Forgive Eve and eat the apple. I promise, you’ll feel so much better. Does everyone deserve forgiveness except this so-called cause of all hell on earth? does every woman, man and child have to continue to pay for this so-called crime against humanity? isn’t it time to get over it. find some woman you love, crawl up between her legs and forgive. she just may forgive you back. and I just felt the earth, herself exhale. she’s been waiting for a long time. i see trees and lambs and missing girls and boys all over the world being freed. as he, and she forgives Eve in unity. Forgive Eve and eat the damn apple, then crawl up under some full belly and juicy bosom and weep. I promise, you’ll feel better. And she just may forgive you back and hand you the manhood you’ve been seeking. (c)2014 Safiar Taliaferro
Author Archives: Safiar
I have no memory of being born in a bikini. I have no memory of laying in the maternity ward at Booth Memorial, freshly waxed, manicured, in a swimsuit, ready for a selfie. I don’t remember anyone exclaiming, “You need to hit the gym!” upon delivery from my mother’s womb. I do remember feeling most free while butt naked, giggling and happy. I remember being at home by the sea, in sand. Island girl. Hashtag.
Until one day, someone said,
Close your legs
Don’t be fast
Put on a robe
Tone down that dance
Dim your light
Don’t say that, don’t do that, don’t wear that
You will attract too much attention, so don’t.
Don’t stand, sit, walk, look like that.
And DEFINITELY DO NOT feel that way.
As if my skin is too brown
My smile too bright
My long legs, less than phenomenal
My waist too small
My thoughts, words and opinions ALL wrong.
And my privacy, isn’t as private as I was taught, since everyone is obsessed with what it’s doing and who it’s not
Eye internalize that I must be wrong. I’m not as perfect as they said.
So much for ten fingers and ten toes, born breathing
Send her back!
She’s orgasmic and blissful. She makes us feel uncomfortable. We need shot guns, an arsenal to hold them back!
Now, how can any ten year old girl focus in class holding all of that?
The fears of the anti-matriarch burdening her back
What else can she do but rebel?
Demand to be free!
What else can she do but agree and subconsciously layer by layer,
Cell by cell tear apart her body?
Destroy the unloved…
She grows up believing she is flawed and broken.
Then once a year a light shines. A door opens. The campaign begins and she can “Get Bikini Ready”
Strut for all to see.
Finally free to BE!
Even though there is no pool or beach near her or her, she too, can live the fantasy. She too can contort her mind, body, dreams, finances, heart, soul and schedule into a frenzied race, for the opportunity to be as close to naked, happy and free as possible. Only now, to be accepted, to be embraced as if she was still Momma’s Baby and Daddy’s Little Girl, worthy of endless hugs, kisses and smiles over all she did, receiving love and acceptance from all who peeped into her crib… now, she must be a million different versions of perfect. She has to “get right” in 90 Days…21 Days…no, 2 weeks to be allowed the privilege to shine, to beautifully adorn herself, to be adored and to commune with the very essence that created Her.
If she fails, even a little bit, she may eat, drink, smoke, mope and sex herself into not caring… until next get bikini ready season
Eat the holidays away and start anew on January 1, 2014.
Once again, it’s the holidays. Thanks Giving has passed and now we are on our way to Christmas. On the radio, on facebook, on t.v., all I hear is EATEATEAT IT’S CHRISTMAS!!! Around this time of year, the posts and status updates start rolling in on diets, the “I feel fat” posts, the I’m gonna eateateat then go to the gym and start a diet January 1. People are stressed and anxious and the body gets the whipping.
One of the main reasons I avoid the the holidays and even the family holiday gatherings is because of the accepted and encouraged over consumption of food. All that food. All that eating. The watching of other people eat and eat and eat. The pressure to eat and eat and eat. It’s like the scene from Spirited Away when the parents smell the food and go sit down to eat and they eat until they literally turn into pigs. In no way are pigs disgusting or disordered because they eat what humans or humming birds may consider to be a lot. A skinnny pig, like a skinny cow would most likely be put to death or turned into lunch meat. Or a nugget of some sort. But a human that eats past the point of satiety and well into the pain and discomfort of her own body in the name of Giving, Family, Celebration and the Holiday Spirit is dis*connected from her self, her body and her own spirit. And where’s the love in that? I grew up being an anxious overeater and have dealt with disordered eating issues most of my life. That changed a few years ago and I re*learned to eat as if I was a baby or a child. Hungry. Eat. Full or Satiated. Stop Eating. Although it’s simple, it’s not easy to do at first.
Holiday Eating Tip:
Be connected. Eat what you want.
Listen to your body.
And the moment you hear her say “I’ve had enough”, stop eating.
Wrap the rest up and take it home.
If you, dear love have an eating problem, an eating disorder, or a dieting problem and you are ready to heal, please email me.
Have a piece of peace, Safiar
I’m tired of trying to be healthy
Tired of being raw
Tired of trying to fix myself
Rather just be flawed and greasy and full of parasites
I’m a host
I love my worms
I’m a sugar fiend’n neurotransmitting coconut shrimp eating whore
I love this about me
I’m tired of fasting detoxing and cleansing
Tired of blending vita-mixing food processing and dehydrating
Tired of reading
Frequent boo-boo dumping
Tired of organic. Tired of pure. Tired of the new best one of a kind cure
Tired of chakra’s Ida’s and Pingala’s
Health food stores doctors and herb jars
noni, acai, goji and aloe vera
water. Tired of all this water
This is my healing water. This is my healing water.
Thank you Mantak Chia
Tired of yoga, running and incense
Tired of symbols and languages that don’t make sense
I speak English and that is fine with me
The secret is, I am a connoisseur of my neurosis
Thank you Reverend Mike
and I use to live on Beckwith St.
Eating melted cheese between grilled bread use to be so good to me
Now it is profane
and so is pizza, catfish and kool-aid
That darn discovery channel
Catfish and their menses
Turning men into Beeoches
But I loved my girl dog Khadija
But like all things vegetarian, I grew tired of her too.
I may have eaten her in my mystery meat China buffet fast food.
So you see,
I’ve failed at being healthy.
I’m ready to just Be.
Safiar Taliaferro (c) 2010
Originally written 3.15.09 in the playhouse on Euclid while waiting to see the one woman stage play Zora.
Goddess Evening. I’ve decided to change the name of my blog. I think this self-love thing is starting to rub off on me. Feeling like having some good gushy sweet and juicy sweetness right now.
Sweetness in my life, in my relationships, in my foods.
And not the processed manufactured plastic coated fake smile taste of sweet.
But the authentic deep down in the crevices, between the black seeds of dragon fruit sweet.
The sweet we breathe in when embracing an old friend lover. The sweet of babies being born.
The sweet of laughing after a good scream & cry. The sweet of listening to your wombn intuition.
The sweet of men and women truly loving and supporting each other.
The sweetness of real sugar touches dripping down my belly inside & out.
Whole fresh ripe raw & organic sugar. The juicy kind of peach mango sugar that drips down your cheek and the kind subtle in it’s sweetness that still leaves the belly satiated. The sweetness of poise.
The sugar sweet kisses that makes me feel not so american fat girl anymore, but more belly beads & hip scarfs, sacred circles & bare breasted sunshine.
The sugar body scrub sweet. The fresh banana peel mask on my face, ripe papaya on my pimples and on my lips sweet.
The sugar smacks on my big honey booty.
The sugary green lights & juicy sweet red strawberry lights up & down each sugar powdered road.
Yes! Yes! Yes! I’m feeling really sweet right now. Gimme some sugah!
– Safiar 🙂