For my Angel.. Mel I love you.

So this piece took me 4 days to write. Every time tries to start this piece I was crying... so took me a min. anyway I know the Mel is lauging at me because I am taking this so hard. but she knows that I need this... so she puts up with me for now.. soon she will start bopping me in the head. LOL. Anyway here is the piece, Mel i hope you like it.

Love TOVA!!!!!! ( she still sings my name)

And there she was, being the picture of God’s perfection.
Throwing caution to the wind and
just trusting the God that made this world that she lived in.
Her secret was, she tucked her wings in by day
As to not frighten the natives
but she couldn’t hide her superpowers.
She would see the good in all of us,
Even when we barley had enough
together to see it in ourselves.
She would bear hug full moons,
causing crescent shadows that changed our
tides of sadness and doubt,
and gave us smiles that God forced us to love
cause she was our road map home.
If she had an official fan club,
I would break my fingers in an effort
to submit my application to be President,
cause even angels needed help in changing the world.
And that’s what she did, day after day.
And I could not get enough of her.
She sung my soul back to God so many times
that it now has her name permanently engraved
on its returned packaging to not miss its destination.
Her Death was God’s electronic message saying “WAKE UP”,
we no longer have the luxury of
sleep walking when life is begging
us to just live in today
and not worry about tomorrow.
Cause that day horizon may be our sunset.
And We work 9-5’s to die shorter lives
just to press footprint
Impressions on shifting sands that didn’t
even bother to remember our names.
and, yeah I should have called you after Wednesday,
but I know now that your call to
glory was more important.
So now I miss you,
I sleep, staring at dark lids to see pictures of you,
Looking at sunset to find your favorite colors.
Talking to children to know of your last sighting,
And you are still making us laugh.
So in an effort to not lose you
I will let your memory live through me.
In strong winds I will listen for your love.
I sing with you as my harmony.
In darkness I will feel for your smile.
When I get to heaven
I will look for my seat next to
yours where us warriors will live forever.

Rest Well Warrior

This is What KXAN said about Mel..


Whether it was a voice calming a frantic 911 caller on the other end of the line, or belting out a powerful song to a crowd, Melanie Wilkinson, 37, touched many lives in Austin.



"She was an earthbound angel that's now heaven bound," said communications supervisor Michelle Frazier.

Wilkinson worked as a 911 dispatcher in Austin since January 2005. Frazier remembered saying goodbye to Wilkinson Monday morning at the end of her overnight shift. Wilkinson attended a Black History Month luncheon, and was killed in a car accident on her way home. Police said the driver of an SUV crossed the center stripe on 5st Street and hit the four-door Toyota Wilkinson was driving.

"I know what people mean when they say it just doesn't seem possible," said close friend and voice coach Dr. Beulah Curry-Jones, sitting on the piano bench in her parlor where the two first met.

Jones can still remember the day Wilkinson's daughter brought her over so she could critique her young daughter's voice when she was in high school.

"When she first sang it was sort of like the feeling, now forgive my grammar, if it ain't broke, don't fix it,” said Jones.

Wilkinson went on to attend Huston-Tillotson University in the 1980s and studied music under Dr. Jones direction. She later received a Master's degree in music from Texas State in San Marcos. She had performed for numerous church congregations and ceremonial events. She became a favorite of the late Congresswoman Barbara Jordan, and sang at the city ceremony when Jordan's memorial statue was unveiled at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport in 2002. Wilkinson has also performed for Lady Bird Johnson and Maya Angelou.

Jones accompanied Wilkinson on the piano for many performances. Jones' last performance with Wilkinson was for a Martin Luther King Jr. celebration Jan. 18 at Texas Lutheran University in Seguin. The gospel song 'Lord Don't Move that Mountain' was Wilkinson's favorite song to sing. Jones would play it on her piano in her parlor, while Wilkinson would belt it out next to her.

Last Wednesday, the two close friends spent the morning together. Jones never imagined it would be the last time, but finds comfort knowing Wilkinson was ready to meet the Lord.

"I would say that she was always in a state of readiness," said Jones. Her life may have been taken, but her memory is sure to live on. Jones said, "She was a person I think anyone would want to know and I think they would be glad that their paths had crossed."

Rest Well my Angel..

Mel was one of the most loving, caring, kind hearted, most giving person that I know and the Angels are rejoycing to have you home.. I will miss you and I will always love you... please save my space next to yours in heaven.

This is from the Movie "13th Warrior"

There is alot going on... and when I feel like I am not strong enough I read this and I feel better. Hope you like it.

Viking Death Prayer

"Lo there do I see my Father
Lo there do I see my Mother, my Sisters and my Brothers
Lo there do I see the line of my people
Back to the beginning
Calling me to join Them
Bidding me to take my place among Them
In the Halls of Valhalla
Where the brave
May live
Forever."

He keeps my pen hand strong...

I am afraid.
To shy to speak this into
existence but I know that it is coming.
I miss you.
I have tried to fight this since you left.
Once again,
Uncle Sam has decided that we are the ponds
in his new game of war and
we do our patriotic duty to stand there and get played.
We have been programmed to move forward without
taking the time to love being right here.
You were taken before we even got a chance
to know if this was real or not.
I am afraid to say your name,
not knowing if the next time I say it,
the letters will be engraved or
rolling off my tongue in our forbidden bed.
I am scared of being here without you.
I don’t what a t-shirt with your face.
I don’t want to go to any benefits in your honor.
I just want you home,
is that too much to ask to see your face again?
I just don’t understand
why God would put you in my life just to lose you
and I know that life is sometimes not fair
but those never meant more to me than they do now.
My pages can’t hold on to anymore of your tears.
Promise me that you will be here
to wipe away the doubt,
hold me until the pain turns into joy.
Don’t fight for this country,
fight for me,
and fight everyday to get closer to our safe place.
I will stand by our shores and
be your light house home.
I promise my next tears will be on your shoulders
and I will say “Welcome Home”

i wrote this a while back... just posting it now.. yeah I know I suck sometimes.

Cool hands embrace tense chins,
wishing they could heal broken hearts and
quite trouble minds.
With history repeating itself,
early morning writing sessions have not
released the pain and spikes piercing
though empty “I love you’s” have left you … hollow.
The holy needs the sins of another to be washed away.
I sleep next to you,
my cold hands pressed to your
tough temples and I tell you
“ Letting go won’t be painful and I will reach
into your hell and store your nightmares in
my womb for a little while until they
mature into air light dream.
Carrying memories of when you were happy.
Since your mind is so focused on haunting
you I don’t mind if you rest in mine for a while.
Fell the warmth of the sun on your skin,
squish sand in between your toes and
watch love hues peek over horizons and
listen to the winds,
for they are singing a song welcoming you home.
I know that you have been left for dead in loves
aftermath but let these hands revive you.
Hold you between rib cages until your heartbeat
finds its melody again. I want nothing more than
for you to be happy, but it seems like you have
settled to walk this life’s journey alone.
But going alone is not your only road home.
Building bridges to your heart has not been
easy but I keep bricks and mortars on standby
just in case you decide the burn the
work that we have done.
You cut down Rapunzel’s hair like her
strength was not enough for you.
You are looking for perfection
in this imperfect world.
You life is mirroring death in so
many ways that you are scarring me.
This is hurting me to believe that
this was not meant to be. I see that man that you
were trying to be: holding your wife’s and children’s hand,
making retirement plans and all the while
just being happy to be your own man.
I wish I could dream for you.
So you can see what I see in you.
I wish I could take throse rose
colored glasses off,
so you can see that
I am still here with cold hand,
trying to show your were home is.

Cont of Writing Lab... 2.15.09

I watch her make melodies with heartstrings and she is the most curious creature God has blessed me with. I want her not for a night but a life time, she smiles when I am not the gentleman I need to be and she yearns for my touch. She tells me that I am intoxicating, but what she doesn’t realize is that being with her is better than any black I have hit. Her words sooth me, her eyes thrill me and most of all her patience kills me. Not that I could have any woman, but she is so far out of the ordinarily that I don’t mind the extra to get next to her. I see new books being produces in her womb, birthing stories to tell our grandchildren of our new beginnings. I wish my life didn’t lead me down paths that kept me away from her. I have been around the world and never met anyone quite like her. Angles sometimes fall and stars sometime burnout but she is everlasting. And I wish I could tell her these things and for her to make sense of it all, but my past sometimes tarnishes my good intentions and the bruises that I have caused on many hearts have caused her to close hers from my own, but I will not stop trying to show her that in this little span of time I can become her everything, because she has already become mine. Heartbeat will not last a life time, but the impressions that you have left on the rhythm will carbon date our story to when Kings made women their Queens in one night. Her mind flatters my intentions of becoming hers for one night, but I am asking more that can you just be my man, but can I have your hand to hold when this road gets to tough or can I call you to say I love you because I just can’t get enough. If I had an extra day I would give her forever, a never-ending promise that today will be the start of our beginning. I will hold on to the landmarks that led us to today, trace back our roots of yesterday and watch the forecast of tomorrow. It’s funny that after all the bad relationships and the time that I have stayed away from my kids I have found heaven in the dark coroners of my poetry dreamscape. With traveling being my first nature and loving second I will keep my factices alive on burning paper. But for now I will hold on to this stand and tell her I love her in stanzas and catchy lines because reality sometimes need time to catch up with fleeting ideas.

Part of the writing lab 2.15.09

The divine heart has been touched by swollen tears; it is time to nurture the divinity in your prayers.


I would like to show you the God in me so sit back and relaxed and read into my divinity. I have taken time from past lives to piece together my super powers, and I can’t say for sure that I have always known this. I have researched my lifelines that have been cut off from my laugh lines and deep impressions have caused some memory lapse. I strain sometimes to realize my greatness. God dwells within me, but sometimes I hide him from me. It like I wrote a note to not forget myself and I forgot where I but the note. Sometimes my self-esteem has left little to the imagination of what I was lacking but I never forgot you on my journey to become whole in your eyes. It’s the age old battle of becoming perfect vs. being perfect enough for you to love me and I have reached the age of accountability to know that both points don’t matter and falling is not my mission, but getting up is. I have taken plane rides, cruise lines, jumped into beds that were not mine, looked for heaven in Satan’s eyes just to find out that God never left me, but was waiting for me to see the “wrong way” sign. I wish that my heart was not touched by so many desert tears, but joy doesn’t come without some pain, and living right doesn’t come without some bloodstains. So I dare you to tell me that you don’t hear the God in me. Look into the hollow holes in my hand and tell me that you do see my sacrifice. I have been the lashes in Jesus back and the bag of silver in Pilate’s hand at the same time. I have denied God more than three times, and asked him to remember me in my time. Its funny how the created tries to control the creator and with choice we have lost purpose. I pray for the day that you get to see God in you but for now I will share my stitched on wings until you are ready for your own. It is ok if your wings come back broken, your healing will be your redemption, your testimony will start with “Thank you” and other blinded angels will follow the God in you to get home safely.

Random facts about me..

So if you dont know... one of my favorite bands is PAramore, and because I love them you should too.... Buy their stuff now... buy it...