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‘Essence’ became a sense as in common sense.

Then sense  became cents… as in dollars & cents.

Then cent became scent as in a distinctive smell.

I began to wonder what common sense would God speak to us when it came to our idea of the price or cost of love?

What scent are we giving off?

What love aroma is lingering behind us when we walk?

Ephesians 5:2 says walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma.

After reading this verse I imagined God saying,

“Y’all out here becoming successful entrepreneurs in the selfish love business.

Selling and marketing love genuinely but reaping the benefits and profiting from it selfishly.

Selling and marketing love genuinely but reaping the benefits and profiting from it selfishly.

Y’all out here taking selfies with each other, calling her your sister, hashtagging I love her then turn around and subliminally dissing her mother.”

I imagined God saying,

“What about beautifully coming together in unity? Real love is about the response when your personal limelight is being threatened.”

I imagined God saying,

“Some of y’all may be uncomfortable with the Soul Survivor Writer’s message today but her life’s purpose consists of delivering to congregations in the realest of the real way for the sake of re-writing and re-righting LOVE history and claiming victory over the true essence of love through unity.”

So after all this came to me I knew I needed to deliver a poem I had written, One Vision. Not only speak it but teach it. I needed to make sure each line was beyond just heard. 

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One Vision

The world. Full of US but can we share one vision?

Can we keep faith at the center, communicate better, and stop ego trippin’?

Diverse eyes watching diverse lives pass away because we’re afraid to come together on one mission.

We’d rather hold a grudge, be jealous, gossip and judge.

Meanwhile Friends, strangers, and loved ones hungry for an ear to take heed and listen.

God confirmed my intuition through a young boy on YouTube, pleading to his mother, “Listen, Linda, Listen!”

We out here trying to put pieces together in search of the main ones missing.

Walking by beggars with no eye contact, hatin’ and dissin’.

It’s not rocket science, or some complicated arithmetic.

First ask oneself the reason for the trials and tribulations.

Next hold close to the details of all conversations;

Then study the moves of the “holy” and “sanctified” population.

Do their moves consists of participation and dedication to those coping with personal starvation hateration, low self-esteem frustration – or like me, child molestation?

We must pay attention to details. Body language, messages, and voice tones whether it be over the phone or sitting in front of someone at home.

We must learn to be observant and ten steps ahead conversant.

Our people are hurting. They are scared. The pressure is heavy!

This life ain’t easy!

So with no hesitation we must choose to make a reservation, and encourage each other to discover that self-innovation.

For we never know the condition of one’s link to self-ammunition;

For we never know the condition of one’s link to self-ammunition;

Or over-stand the intrusion of the delusions that lead to so much confusion.

People are hurting. They are scared. The pressure is heavy! This life ain’t easy!

We are ALL searching for perfection through constant correction, in hopes we’re headed in the right direction.

The world. Full of US but can we share one vision?

Can we keep faith at the center, communicate better, and stop ego trippin’?

I imagine God saying, “The TRUE aroma of a scent of love is knowing the sense in my agape love.”

The post Essence of Love , A Sense of Love through One Vision appeared first on Linda Orji Creative Universe.

THIS SHIT AINT EASY.

I JUST WANT TO WALK AWAY …

BUT I CAN’T….

constipation. 

SINCERELY,

LINDA ORJI

The post The Process Hurts appeared first on Linda Orji Creative Universe.

I like the moment when he says, “You’re free! You’re free!” We’re free to spit our fire of creativity however we want into the universe, so others could freely receive it and interpret it however they want. There’s humorous, thought-provoking creativity in everyday survival—a fly landing on my windshield, seeing a roach at someone’s house, or even an itch on my foot. A few nights ago when I got home, I wrote this:

When having writer’s block meets the sound of your neighbors having sex, a really disturbing itch on your foot, and your hopeless dreams of becoming a sports commentator.

I got an itch.

Little tiny bump.

Right on the inside of my ankle.

My right ankle.

Refraining from using my nails and clawing at it.

The itch is trying to escape.

The coldness of my anemic left foot

Is keeping it in control.

Oh no!

The bump is sweet-talking the anemic left foot!

The anemic left foot is humping the bump!

The anemic left foot is moving faster up and down,

up and down!!

No!!

The anemic left foot has fallen for the itch!

Why!

Now the left hand is loose.

The phone is in the right hand.

The left hand has moved the left anemic foot out the way.

The nails are going in for the itch…

Oh!

The left hand nails the itch from the anemic left foot!

GOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL!!

…and after all that, I still got the itch.

Free Style may not always consist of written words. I may decide to go to an open mic one night. I may create a Free Style in one of my Fade to Black videos. Either—or; the fire of this day is poetry and just going with the waves of my soul.

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Free Style

Flows with the waves of the words like water.

Like the Blue Heron, so still in the distance.

Cast away rigidness of geometry, chemistry, psychology.

The dream is that one day the subject of choice will be Soulsurvivortry.

Pronunciation: Soulsur-viv-or-tree noun.

1. The branch of education that deals with the identification of the substances of life through abstract poetry

and writing, which are broken down;

the investigation of their properties and the ways they interact, combine, and change;

and the use of these processes to form new stronger, wiser, substances of life.

Cast away rigidness of geometry, chemistry, psychology.

2. I have a dream that one day there will be a course that teaches the freedom in creating and studying your own study of.

The post Free Style appeared first on Linda Orji Creative Universe.

Because it is the most dangerous and deadliest time anyone could encounter. Thoughts pile up on top of thoughts. The head becomes heavy. The treacherous waves crash violently against the temples shores, battling the frightening winds.

CRASH! CRASH!

THE STORM IS COMING!

Quick, run for shelter, go NOW!

Find a safe place, away from harm.

No, not there!

The cement structure will break your bones.

NO! Definitely not there!

You’ll drown to death.

Try here…

Yea, here is good.

The post Current of an idol mind appeared first on Linda Orji Creative Universe.

If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?
Love is not just a verb, it’s you looking in the mirror. ~Kendrick Lamar

Tell yourself what you are.

Destined to be much more than what you are.
Hurt and pain is the game,
Tend to each wound with rise or shame.
Hold on to each scar but not in vain.
Clean it out and protect it;
Neglect it and get infected.

Poetic Justice

If I told you that a wound healed over time, would you trust it?
Trust is not just a noun, it’s a healing scar.

The post Poetic Justice appeared first on Linda Orji Creative Universe.

30-story brown brick buildings.

Butler Housing, also known as The Projects.

The loud stereo vibrations of grandma’s bleach smelling studio

15E apartment welcomed us.

Wine & Spirits were lifted by the likes of Motown.

The raspy voice of Smokey Robinson,

the doowop of The Temptations,

invasion of The Intruders,

glamour of The Supremes.

And how can I ever forget that three-octave vocal range

of the sweet melodious sound of Marvin Gaye?

Oh yes, the time was gay, indeed!

The occasion? It was Friday.

The DJ? None other than Yodi-yo!

The nickname the streets had given my mother.

She mixed and matched from cassettes on the tape player to record albums on grandma’s

‘Ol Skool’ turntable.

I sat in the corner and watched…

“Oh Yodi, that’s my jam!” Grandma would say as she jumped up to dance

with a shot glass in one hand and a can of malt liquor in the other.

I gazed in amazement; her wig nearly fell off her head,

but not one drop of liquor spilled.

“Now that’s skill!” I thought to myself.

DJ Yodi-yo looked over at her sister and yelled, “This one is for you!”

Her sister instantly turned into her Tina Turner alter ego.

She ran around carefree and barefoot.

Bottom of her feet black.

She strummed her fingers to her imaginary guitar,

came over to me and said proudly,

“I’m Tina Turner, and don’t you ever forget that!”

Yup, good times…

Hours later, the liquor began to speak.

You know how the saying goes,

A drunk mind speaks a sober tongue.

Bottles breaking, angry curse words being yelled across the room.

Somebody getting kicked out or even throwing a broom.

Marvin’s Gaye’s

lyrics now whispering in the background.

What’s going on?

Studio 15E closed.

For tonight.

That won’t be remembered tomorrow.

Next Friday.

Same Time.

Same place.

The post Studio 15E appeared first on Linda Orji Creative Universe.

Seeds planted on soil. (5 Syllables)

Child gazes curiously. (7 Syllables)

Sun’s touch, growth. Roots deep. (5 Syllables)

The post Haiku appeared first on Linda Orji Creative Universe.

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Someone you can talk with about sports,

sit back and crack jokes of all sorts.

He’s book smart and street smart,

can be real cold but has the warmest heart.

It’s kinda tough for you when y’all are apart.

You don’t want to show signs of weakness,

so you find ways of dealing

by exercising your feelings.

And strengthening your uniqueness.

An OG listens when he doesn’t want to;

opens the door for you b/c he was raised to;

Gets his hands dirty like he watched his father do.

An OG is an original guy

who makes you feel like you’re soaring high

when you catch that spark in his eye.

It is the swag in his walk,

the Gangsta in his talk,

the S on his chest

when he’s giving you his best.

He balances the equation:

You take away the O, and just call him G.

He divides your thighs O so willingly.

Then somehow strategically adds that G

to your spot

and makes you 50 shades of hot.

You know he’s an OG when…

y’all can laugh at each other

and laugh with each other;

when your fly matches his fly.

When it all started on Facebook

with a simple, “Hi.”

The post OG Talk w/ Babygirl… appeared first on Linda Orji Creative Universe.

Them: Injection.

Me: Why, so I can look like who? Feel like what?

Them: Walk with a more curvaceous strut!

Me: Far from the crowned Mutt
That walked in the presence of King Tut?
Does good come from that cut?

Them: What cut?

Me: The one craftily performed by my surgeon.

Them: Where?

Me: There.

Them: I don’t see nothing down here.

Me: Get a little closer, noser!

Them: I don’t see a mark, not one trace!

Me: The cut is the one God craftily laced.
And that my friend is where I will…
Inject
Your face
If you don’t remove that talk from my space.

Your body cannot be replaced.

Order your steps. Those thoughts please erase.

This is a war…

Minders and the human race versus

Miners and the human race.

Be careful of the one letter between the two;

Very d…eceiving, often mislea…d…ing.

For the sake of extracting natural minerals working to remove the rock,

Then turning ’em over to manufacturing deficiency-causing industries,

Done with ease and efficiency to maintain currency sufficiency.

Them: Shit.

Me: Precisely. That is the good that cometh from that craftily performed cut.

Now step away from my butt.

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