~*2Deep*~

Posts Tagged ‘feel’

Lyrically Speaking: Keri Hilson~ Intuition

In Lyrically Speaking on 28 February 2011 at 12:13 pm

        A man’s arch nemesis has been and will ALWAYS be a woman’s intuition. I think it was apart of the deal when he snatched Adam’s rib. His rib contained 10% of Adam’s DNA which was a divine tracking device and lie detector. It lets the woman know when something isn’t right even when she can’t quite put a finger on it. I can’t describe it, but it is the oddest feeling in the entire world. She could just be sitting there when all of a sudden something tells her to call her man…..while on the other side of town he is getting his freak on with her best friend. Yes, it is like a face off between Batman and the Riddler. It is just this feeling…..

        And as I thought about this topic… one of my favorite songs came to mind. Keri Hilson’s “Intuition”. Yes, this song just screams “I am woman, hear me roar. I know you did wrong, negro don’t play me. Now pack your shit and bounce.” hahahaha I don’t know if that was her intention when she wrote it, but that became my subtext when I heard it. I think it is all even, right? I mean… I know for a fact that EVERY woman pleading Intuition isn’t on the right path, but for the other 99.999999% of us who listen to our intuition for the right reasons, we are hardly ever wrong. A wise woman once told me that our intuition is God snitching on the universe. What an image, right…. but it works. So I go with my gut feelings majority of the time and I am right.

        Now this song has a taste of both Indian and Asian instrumentation to it, and I think that would be a great place to start with my interpretation of the video.

        I think that the video should start with Keri asleep in bed. As her man grabs the keys off the dresser and you see the door closing behind him.

“Intuition”

Whoa [3x]

Hey hey…

Keri pops up in bed and begins to look around. She leans over and looks out the window as she sees him backing out of the driveway.

[Chorus]
I got this crazy feeling
I’m gone be single again
I know it, I can feel it
I know you gone mess up

        Keri gets out of bed and walks to throw on an Asian designer trench coat with a fidora, glances in the mirror by the front door, grabs her keys and hops in her car.

Wow, you really turn me on
So I, I really hope I’m wrong [whoa]
It would break my world If you ain’t true to me, yea
But I’m not the silly girl I used to be
And I Know how it goes yea

       She comes to a light and sees his car outside of a massage parlor. Shot switches to her walking through the parlor looking for her guy. She catches him getting a massage in one of the rooms and she rubs her hands down his back. He pops up to look around but Keri is gone and in her car back home

[Pre-Chorus]
Dude’s out here think they slick
Got a lot of girls on they (dadadadada)
And they can’t say no
Steady telling me they ain’t you
I’ma wait to see what you gone do
Hope you know you got a good thing, yea

[Chorus]
I got this crazy feeling
I’m gone be single again
I know it, I can feel it
I know you gone mess up

I got this crazy feeling
I’m gone be single again
I know it, Its gone happen
I know you gone mess up

       Fast forward technique to push the story ahead a few hours. Scene stops at Keri fighting with a guy while she is wearing a kimono. The fight is brief and he walks out of the house. With Keri walking along the window of the house. Shot cuts to Keri walking along the glass window of an Asian restaurant with her “guy” sitting at a dinner table obviously waiting for someone for dinner. She is on her Inspector Black Chick trying to get a better view of him. The entire restaurant is filled with guys sitting at tables by themselves with an all female staff.

I, I love the way we fight so
So, I hope this is all in my mind (hope it’s in my mind)
Baby don’t you know
It would break my world, if you ain’t true to me yea
But I’m not the silly girl I used to be
See I know how it goes

       The servers in the restaurant and random  staff members throughout the dining area join in for choreography. Some women are private detectives with cameras and notepads. The servers are performing choreography around the guy’s table that they are servicing, every guy but Keri’s. The servers collect glasses, and utensils CSI style and places them in an evidence bag, placed back on the serving tray and exit the dining area.

[Pre-Chorus]
Dude’s out here think they slick
Got a lot of girls on they (dadadadada)
But they don’t say no
Steady telling me they ain’t you
I’ma wait to see what u gone do
Hope you know you got a good thing cause I,

[Chorus]
I got this crazy feeling
I’m gone be single again
I know it, I can feel it
I know you gone mess up

I got this crazy feeling
I’m gone be single again
I know it, Its gone happen
I know you gone mess up

 

        Then you see everything go pitch black, when a spotlight pops up over one guy like an interrogation lamp. Keri walks up to the two-way window and her silhouette is seen dancing directly in front of her guy. Snippets of individual female detectives come into the light surrounding him.

Your gonna get too comfortable (you gone mess up)
Gonna want something new babe (you gone mess up)
Your gonna be just like the rest (you gone mess up)
It’s gonna be you babe before me

         They release him and he is free to leave. Keri is seen in a designer trench coat walking behind him out of the police station.  He gets to his car and pulls off before her. She runs to her car and speeds off.

I trust my heart, broke down my guard
I worked so hard to take good care of you

I trust my heart, broke down my guard
I worked so hard, I hope it ain’t true

       Keri begins to say this next part into her rear view mirror. She pulls up next to him, glances over, and then runs through a red light and he stops. She makes it home before him.

Look at me
You wanna miss all this?
Go ‘head
Bring that back
Whoa [3x]

        As he reaches for the front door, Keri opens it in her Kimono and takes his hand to lead him upstairs.

 

It’s in my mind
Whoa [3x]
Hope its in my mind

        There is a pan in shot of a photo in her bag of him sitting at the table in the restaurant by himself and then a figure of a woman fades into view in the chair across from him. She has on a fidora to cover her face and the video ends.

        Yeh…I know. Wild and all over the place. But this has that Carmen San Diego feel about it. A woman detective going on a hunch. That inner voice telling her that something isn’t right. And though she may not have the proof… it’s there. So, that was my take on it…. did you like it?

       Check back tomorrow when I ask my 200 Men about the 2 things they wish that women would stop doing. How does that tie into intuition? Well, we already know as women what we want guys to stop or start doing…so why not hear from them. Maybe these are the things that make them misbehave which in turn peaks our intuition.  [Will insert Link here]

        Scroll Down to leave a comment or read comments. If you are on the Homepage, click the title of this individual blog to see or leave a comment.

Sincerely,

*My Mother’s Daughter*~

Lyrically Speaking: Lyfe Jennings~Hero

In Lyrically Speaking on 21 February 2011 at 12:02 am

        I searched high and low for a song that I thought would speak of a woman’s worth that was not sung by Maxwell or Alicia Keys. I also wanted to mix that with a song that sang of an appreciation for an independent woman who was not put to a rap beat or came within ten feet of Destiny’s Child or Ne-Yo. So one day, listening to my Rhapsody playlist I came across one of my favorite singers, Lyfe Jennings, and his song Hero. Eureka! This is what the juggling of one’s balls must feel like… because I got a great feeling in my happy place when I heard this song. I thought…. this is as subliminal of a message as you can get when it comes to being an independent woman.

        Tomorrow you will get to read my blog about what 200 Men Said…. An Independent Woman’s Place [<~Click Here to Read]….but today I wanted to celebrate her. I wanted to celebrate the independent woman free of a bitter bitch anthem and really vibe out to her without even saying the words “independent woman”…well, outside of this intro.  Because a REAL independent woman does, a wannabe shouts about it. You will NEVER hear a REAL independent woman claim the title, but everyone else will call her one. It is in the core of who she is and everyone around her can feel her independent power and never feel negated by that power. And I wanted to celebrate her with a Lyrically Speaking song that many may not have heard;I think that Lyfe did a wonderful job in capturing that.

        I see the opening of the video very reminiscent of a Superman meets Clark Kent moment. She should start in her Clark Kent stage with her hair down, cute little house dress via Victoria Secrets. Nothing kinky looking but short and regular but still seductive in nature. Think, her wearing his button-up or his college football jersey, etc.  The shot should be Lyfe sitting at the kitchen table finishing off dinner as he starts singing and then gets up to put his plate in the sink walking directly up behind his “Hero”. And he should grab her and maaaaaaybe give her a pelvic thrust on the last line.

Verse 1

Superman can’t cook chicken like this, (this)*
And Wonder Woman can’t french kiss, (kiss)
Aladdin only gave me one wish (wish),
That’s yo body

 

        She playfully pushes him away  and starts to back up because she knows where this is heading. Lyfe follows and presses her up against the wall just as he says the last line.

Spiderman don’t forgive me when I’m wrong, (wrong)
Batman don’t look good in that thong, (thong)
Catwoman don’t keep me rock this long (long)
That’s yo body

         Then I think that he should stay still as she leaves from under him. He then turns and leans on the wall where she once was as there is a speed reel like in Adam Sandler’s movie CLICK where he presses fast forward and everything but him speeds up. His “Hero” is shown getting the kids ready for extracurricular activities like football and karate practice, leaving to take them and returning. Leaving to get groceries, and returning with bags. She drops one in fast mode and “Regular Speed” Lyfe catches the bag and sets it on the counter. She’s even seen cleaning the house and putting the kids to bed before it comes back to regular speed as she is closing the door to the kids’ room; throughout this Lyfe is walking regular speed.

[Chorus:]
It’s a bird, (it’s a bird) it’s a plane, (it’s a plane) it’s an angel down here
With no wangs, it’s a bird, (it’s a bird) it’s a plane, (it’s a plane) short shorty
It’s the hero song everybody sing along.
You are my hero (hero), you don’t need a costume everybody knows your name,
The greatest hero (hero) you can make me feel good even when your miles away.
You are my hero (hero) you can make the sun shine even when the sky is gray,
The greatest hero (hero) one kiss from your lips and all my troubles fly away.

        She is seen walking seductively down the hallway headed towards Lyfe who is sitting at a keyboard. She places a bowl of soup on the table next to him right before she straddles across his lap and they are looking into his each other’s eyes before they kiss. Lyfe picks her up and walks over to the bed and gently lays her down as the shot pans beyond him to the window to watch the sky change from night to day.

Verse 2

Wolverine can’t cheer me up when I’m sad, (sad)
Captain America can’t slow dance, (dance)
Hulk can’t make a boy feel like a man (man)
That’s Yo body

Aguaman can’t work a job with two kids, (kids)
Iceman can’t cook soup when I’m sick, (sick)
Wonder Twins don’t know how to work this stick (stick, stick)
That’s yo body

[CHORUS]

It’s a bird, (it’s a bird) it’s a plane, (it’s a plane) it’s an angel down here
With no wangs, it’s a bird, (it’s a bird) it’s a plane, (it’s a plane) short shorty
It’s the hero song everybody sing along.
You are my hero (hero), you don’t need a costume everybody knows your name,
The greatest hero (hero) you can make me feel good even when your miles away.
You are my hero (hero) you can make the sun shine even when the sky is gray,
The greatest hero (hero) one kiss from your lips and all my troubles fly away.

        As the view pans back out Lyfe is laying in bed by himself asleep as she walks into view fully dressed for work but now she is in Superman mode; hair in a bun, power suit, and heels with brief case. She shakes him and walks out of the room. Now every shot her “Superman” outfit changes. She gets to the hallway to call for the kids and she looks like a Doctor, walks into the kitchen to hand them their lunches and she now looks like a police offer. Walking to the front door she looks like a waitress. By then Lyfe has made it there and given her a kiss and as the shot goes to her pulling back from the kiss in front of the open door.The next shot is her outside as she closes the front door to head to the car as a pregnant stay-at-home mom.

Up and away (up and away) off to work she leaves,
back at four thirttttttty, we’ll make love till we fall asleep,
when we wake up, she’ll put on that cape again,
me and my hero, me and angel, me and my girl and my best friend.

Lyfe goes into the kitchen and pours himself a bowl of cereal and walks into the family room and sits on the couch during this next few bars.

You are my hero (hero) you don’t need a costume everybody knows your name,
the greatest hero (hero) you can make me feel good even when your miles away,
you are my hero (hero) you can make the sun shine even when the sky is gray.
the greatest hero (hero) one kiss from your lips and all my troubles fly away. (yeah)

        Just as he sits, his “Hero” is seen walking into the house with the 3 kids running past her, no longer pregnant. She stops in the doorway and she undoes the bun in her hair as Lyfe calls her into the family room where Captain America & Friends is on TV. She is now back in the same mode that she was in at the start of the video; loose hair, glasses, and comfortable cute house dress with footy socks. She sits down & cuddles next to him and he hands her the bowl of cereal and wraps his arms around her as the song goes off.

Shorty this the hero song, everybody sing along
Shorty this the hero song, everybody sing …
Shorty this the hero song everybody sing along,
Shorty this the hero song, thank you for singing along

         Yeh…. if I had a say so in the video…. that is EXACTLY how I would direct it. I think it tells a tale of how the every day woman can, in fact, be a hero. These are the unsung independent women that don’t seek praise nor boast about their independent power, but they are independent women just the same. I don’t know Lyfe’s intentions when he wrote the song, but I am in LOVE with it. It is my own personal anthem because this is the kind of woman who I am and would like to continue to be. So, I salute Lyfe for this song and I salute the true independent women who don’t apologize for being the women that they are because they don’t have to. And that is said without attitude or pride. Dont get that confused with the need to shout your independence from the mountain tops running all the good men away. Or feeling that you need to shout it to get a strong man to want to be with you. Trust me, wannabes…..if you shut the fuck up… he will come. lmao! And that is all I have to say about that.

These are gonna be the longest 3 years. But we’ll be here waiting for your return Lyfe. God bless!

P.S. Scroll down the page to post a comment or to read comments

P.P.S. If you are on the homepage, Click on the title Lyrically Speaking to go to the actual page.

Sincerely,

~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

 

A “Loc” on Intimacy

In Cupid & Other Myths on 4 January 2011 at 10:51 am

        

         “I WISH A NEGRO WOULD TOUCH MY HAIR AFTER I GOT IT DONE! “ is heard being yelled from a gaggle of African-American females at a brunch. “He better go get a white girl for that” is the follow-up by the freshly done, mohawked co-signer giving cliché snaps and hi-fives in my imaginary scenario. Yet, imaginary or not….at least ONE African-American sister reading this nodded her head in agreement at the reality of such statements before reaching the sentence about it being a made up scenario. We live here. Somewhere between I Wish A Nigga Would Blvd and Madame CJ Walker Ave where it has become okay for our crown and glory to remain nothing more than a show piece head-dress to be paraded in front of our kings like an artifact in a museum; on display but not to be touched. How’d we get here?

        Did we get to this point from the hours upon hours of sitting next to the stove in the kitchen smelling dinner cook as your mom threatened to burn your neck if you didn’t lean your head all the way to the side as Blue Magic sizzled in your ear? Or was it the reoccurring echo of your mother yelling, “Dont let anyone play in your hair while you are at school” that has somehow follow you into adulthood, long after the threat of lice were gone?  Or was it the old wives tales that your hair carries energy and not just anyone should be playing in your hair like it is recess? Whatever the case may be, if your man is good enough to play all up and through your candy land….why can’t he play in your naps? It sounds so silly once I put it that way doesn’t it? You can sleep with me, but don’t touch my hair. I mean, if we told inner city girls that they needed to care for their bush as much as they do their…well..bush, we may have more virgins in the world and cut down on the world population. Why can a man have sex with us… but can’t touch our hair? Strange…..very , very , strange.

        Knowing the Black woman better than she knows herself ( yes, I’m black), I know for a fact that no matter how liberal she may think that she is… she would rather vote Palin in office with Bush as her VP and McCain as Secretary of Defense before she would ever want to see a Black man with a White woman. It is fact. Even the liberal ones cringe at first sight, evaluate a flaw in her, compare it to the flaw in him and then become okay with it. It’s because we wonder…..what in the hell does she have to make him cross melanin lines and date outside of the cotton field. It is not racial. It is a direct example of confusion between Black males and females personified and in the flesh and we are left to face it.  When not in “mixed company” we share derogatory statements like nigger jokes at a country club amongst ourselves about how the White woman will do the stuff that we wont do , never seeing it as a negative for us but rather a negative for her. This isn’t intended to be racial as it is informative. Its Lisa Lamponelli , Carlos Mencia, Paul Mooney and Richard Prior on stage being copy/pasted into the privacy of our own homes. They say what we think…and even reveal what we have yet to understand.

        I’m not a freak by any stretch of the imagination, but I often wonder what do people get out of the whole “pull my hair” segment of sex, I mean who does that? If this were a question on Jeopardy the answer would be “What is Shit that White people do?”. I’m tender headed. I don’t like to comb my hair when I HAVE to yet alone allow a guy to grip and cause alopecia traction baldness in a heat of passion. So what do people get out of that? I am soooooo serious when I ask this question. Outside of kinky violence, I can’t see much else being received from it. Or can I?… Nope, I can’t. But I do have a serious question to ask, a few actually.

        Black ladies…..do you think that we lose a huge portion of our intimacy with our Black men because we often refuse to let them touch our hair? I mean… think about it. To a guy, touching your hair is a subtle way of him sending you a signal that he is feeling you. Swimming or sexual encounters in bodies of water or the shower is on the top of many men’s fantasy lists; seen Baywatch Lately? Men go crazy as a woman does a slow walk out of the water and pushes her hair out of her face. The slow hair blow as a woman gets out of the car was designed by a man, for a man as a way to seduce him via Yaky 1b natural. Yet, ladies…. most of us do not partake in any of these activities. I don’t care if a woman is natural or creamy cracked out…. several will not let her man touch her hair. WE have built up this impermeable wall of Pink Oil Moisturizer and Jam that most black men have learned before they were able to pee directly into the bowl that they do not touch a black woman’s hair. We have unconsciously trained our future kings that they can touch everything on his future queen’s body but her crown. Am I the only one who sees something wrong with this?

       I mentioned this to my big brother on Sunday, and I promise you that if he had wings he would have jumped off the sofa in agreement and flown away. For a moment it looked as if he had caught the Holy Ghost, but it was just frustration releasing. He wasnt even paying attention to my side conversation with his wife…. but I ‘ll be damned if he wasnt fully listening now! lol. I wish I had recorded it just so that women could see the amount of energy and excitement he expressed to finally have a black women expressing his same sentiments. He said, “I would even go as far as to say that THIS (not touching a black woman’s hair) is why SOME black men date outside of the race.” There you have it… straight from the horse’s mouth! Ladies, here you have a black man telling you that he could understand why a black man would date outside of his race….just to feel someone’s hair/scalp… than to stick around and not be able to express his silent form of affection to you. I’ve even posted this question on Twitter and got blocked from tweeting because I ran out of my daily allotted tweets by responding to the sea of guys who said that they wished they could touch their girl’s hair/head. I posted it again today and will see what happens.

        So in closing, Black women… we’ve got to do better when it comes to allowing our kings to touch our hair. Maybe let him touch it for the few days leading up to a retouch, or right after you get it washed. Maybe this is the connection that we need to re-establish in order to allow intimacy to flow from a natural place, unrestricted by social taboos and norms. Maybe, and just maybe this will cause Mr. Lynch to shake in his grave if we can get one woman to allow her man to run his fingers through her hair. Would it hurt us to share this portion of ourselves? Would it kill us to open of a gateway to intimacy that hasn’t been there since the invention of a hot comb? Can we learn that there are things far more important than our hair? I hope so……your relationship is counting on it. And I am not asking you to let everyone touch your hair… just your man. SO yes, if the complete stranger (white woman) standing behind you at the Reagan National Airport decides amongst her friends that you have beautiful hair and decides to reach out and run her fingers through your hair…..(This happened to me)…..just breathe before you commit a felony. Everyone is not as restrictive as we are about our hair….and this is the day that you may need to examine why. It is my suggestion that we ask ourselves if this is the cause of why black love has a “loc” on intimacy.

Sincerely,

~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

%d bloggers like this: