Lovely Lies

Mundane exchanged for a rosy view

Seems that’s all I was to you

An actor lost in your charade

Love for lust, a resented trade

Script rehearsed, the curtains part

Each line a flawless work of art

The opening scene, the hardest blow

Reverie cloaked in regret and sorrow

Lost letters and a missing line

Turning back the hands of time

Speculation turned to fantasy

Forbidden fruit and ecstasy

Time for the second part to unfold,

I listen intently to all I am told

Emotions freed and wishes shared

Sacred thoughts, vulnerabilities bared

All these years, it’s left you haunted,

My heart’s the only one you wanted

Your sole love and soul mate

Inevitable trials, but worth the wait

My voice returned and calmed your fears

“You’ve held my heart with you for years”

Uninhibited, you pour out a verse

Each word retelling the tale of our curse

“Old love and long distance

Down the path of least resistance

Leaving all to begin again”

You’d already begun to write our end

Lies in lyrics, now we know

That “little girl”, she’ll never grow

Your perfect nose and my complexion so fair

Mommy’s green eyes and your black hair

Her daddy found her in his dreams

Lovely lies, now it seems

The final scene, always the best

Putting true love to the test

Reality returns, we realize

We imagined it all through blinded eyes

Our story was perfect, our love surreal

But stories are just stories, none are real

Faced with a choice, the risk was too great

The pain in your voice decided our fate

Knowing your heart, I fed you a line

Told you to go, that I would be fine

Returning the favor, you said “this isn’t goodbye”

That was the moment I first heard you lie

I offered a promise before we let go

“I love you more than you’ll ever know…

Always have, always will.”

I pray you trust and cling to it still

Curtains close, you take your mark

No applause to greet, only the dark

No more lines to recite, you take your bow

All reason gone, along with your vow

My biggest pet peeve

Maybe Holland was onto something after all. I now have the liberty to express what I previously could not due to a lack of suitable platform. This'll do.

There is something that has been bothering me a lot lately, both in my personal life and world wide....PREJUDICE - an unfavorable opinion or feeling formed beforehand or without knowledge, thought, or reason.

I'm not just talking racism, although sadly that is just as rampant in 2012 as it has ever been. I mean the judgement of others based on religion, sexual preference, hair, clothing, tattoos, and other such pointless things. To see anyone and think a certain way about them because of what you experienced with someone else who had similar characteristics, or to assume that a person is a what you think they are based on untruths you've been told in the past is simply irresponsible. And quite juvenile. I am so much more than meets the eye. If you can get past the physical, my dark skin and kinky hair, big lips and wide hips, the bible in my purse and my tattoo covered body, perhaps you could find out that I am a sister, a friend, a daughter, an aunt, a girlfriend, a teacher, a humanitarian...but most importantly, I am a human. Just like you. With feelings and opinions. With highs and lows. Strengths and imperfections. With enough love in my heart to spare to even a stranger who may have prejudged me.


I would like to encourage you to get out of your own way. Your new best friend could be that person behind you who looks nothing like you. And that's okay. We're all perfect...just the way we are.

How do I let my sister talk me into these things? I'm not a writer. I'm not exceptionally funny or creative. I sometimes lack the articulation that my dear, sweet Holland has. Yet once again I find myself doing what she tells me to do. In this case...a blog! Really?!
I'm Harlan Tate. The younger, cooler, and wiser sister. Don't tell her I said that. I could write a thesaurus about me and all my awesomeness, but it would be redundant as you will soon discover. Holland created the about us section and kind of summarized The Tate Sisters.
I want to emphasize one point she made. We are JANES (note the name change) of all trades, mistresses of none. We don't have a lot in common but there is one thing that unites us - our lack of sticktoittiveness (I'm putting a patent on that word so don't even think about it). We start things but never finish. Boredom is both of our middle names. If we're not naturals at something, you better believe we'll quit. My motto is "If at first you don't succeed, give up and try something else." Who has time to be mediocre? I'm way too awesome to be bogged down with things that makee me seem...well...not. Anywho, we've tried everything from photography to massage therapy to knitting to pole dancing. Wait, no, I was great at pole dancing. You get the point though.
So I wasn't sure how to end this and if you've paid any attention to what I've already written, then you've probably figured out that I want to quit. Holland told me not to. Meanie. So I'm going to challenge myself to stick with something that doesn't come easy. Wish me luck!

For Lack of Inspired Creativity...Untitled

Perfectly she spins and sways

While the masses sing her praise

Each step written and carefully planned

Choreographed by another’s hand

Day in, day out she dons that smile

Just a prop for quite awhile

Part of the costume she’s forced to wear

To save them all from her despair

They’d all flee if they saw inside

So she pushes it deep, and then she hides

Locked far away within her soul

A little girl she can’t control

She cries and begs and pleads to be freed

But the dancer keeps dancing, fulfilling their greed

The little girl whispers “please let me out”

But her voice is unheard among all the shouts

Eagerly the dancer performs on command

Ignoring the little girl’s need to expand

The melody continues, new expectations to fill

No life, no liberty, no freedom of will

A prisoner to their selfish delights

Too weak to stand on her own and fight

So she keeps dancing till the music fades

But the end of the song is the end of her days

Snow Storms and Hurricanes

Folded up someplace in time

Misplaced words, an unread line

Encrypting all that was to be

Barren seasons lost at sea

Snow storms and Hurricanes

Unrelenting Masquerades

Scattered pieces of debris

Blown about aimlessly

Tossed to and fro and back again

Unprotected from the wind

The salty gale dissipates

Fragmented words congregate

On the ravaged shore they rest

Evidence they stood the test.

The Tale of Two Sisters...from Different Misters...

Thanks to the accessibility and speed of modern technology everyone has a place for expressing their opinions, ideas, and creativity to the world. We have chosen this blog as our very own stage to do just that...express ourselves! We're just a couple of quirky chicks who are surviving this imperfect life just like everyone else. While most of the stories featured here will be embellished versions of true events (what greater muse than real life, right?), it is quite possible that this blog will just be a "hodge podge" of creative writings....I mean, does anyone really know what they're doing as a novice blogger??? This is all very new to us, so hang on and enjoy the show...the world is our stage, we just don't know the end of the script just yet! :)


<3 Holland