<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35435165</id><updated>2011-08-02T09:42:43.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Check me out!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Enia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17401409335561189256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35435165.post-9220342912085389029</id><published>2009-06-23T01:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T01:13:33.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My 2008</title><content type='html'>I havent blogged for ages and I realized I have missed it...well my last blog was in 2007 so I'll summarize my 2008 in a poem I wrote last year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;In 2008, I have learned that not only does the past drag you down,&lt;br /&gt;It also carries you forth once you realize that it is only that...the past.&lt;br /&gt;In 2008, I have learned that I might be a masochist,&lt;br /&gt;Taking a lot of nonsense in the hope of a non-existent love!&lt;br /&gt;In 2008, I have learned of my naivety,&lt;br /&gt;... Of my silliness,&lt;br /&gt;But most of all,&lt;br /&gt;In 2008, I have learned that I can love again.&lt;br /&gt;My 2008 has not been easy,&lt;br /&gt;I have struggled academically,&lt;br /&gt;pushing my frontiers and my view points.&lt;br /&gt;My 2008 has taught me of the power of knowledge,&lt;br /&gt;...of forgiveness,&lt;br /&gt;...of love!  &lt;br /&gt;My 2008 has taught me that it has to start from ME.&lt;br /&gt;It has been filled with joys and sorrows,&lt;br /&gt;Laughter and tears,&lt;br /&gt;It has been filled with LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;Well, 2008 is not over,&lt;br /&gt;I have a huge smile on my face as I write this.&lt;br /&gt;Amidst all my lessons and my trials,&lt;br /&gt;In 2008, I have re-discovered myself.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35435165-9220342912085389029?l=yvettek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/feeds/9220342912085389029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35435165&amp;postID=9220342912085389029' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/9220342912085389029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/9220342912085389029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-2008.html' title='My 2008'/><author><name>Enia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17401409335561189256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35435165.post-8570257648792261747</id><published>2007-05-25T02:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-25T02:20:31.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To all my sisters!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"MAYA ANGELOU'S" BEST POEM EVER&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...  enough money within her control to move out and rent a place of her own, even if she never wants to or needs to...   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....  something perfect to wear if the employer, or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour...    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...  a youth she's content to leave behind....    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....  a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to retelling it in her old age....    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ......  a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..  one friend who always makes her laugh... and one who lets her cry...    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .....  a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family...   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....  eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a recipe for a meal, that will make her guests feel honored...    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....  a feeling of control over her destiny.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...  how to fall in love without losing herself.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...  how to quit a job, break up with a lover, and confront a friend without; ruining the friendship...  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...  when to try harder... and WHEN TO WALK AWAY...    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...  that she can't change the length of her calves, the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents..    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...  that her childhood may not have been perfect...but its over...    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...  what she would and wouldn't do for love or more...    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...  how to live alone... even if she doesn't like it...   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW..   whom she can trust, whom she can't, and why she shouldn't take it personally...    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...  where to go... be it to her best friend's kitchen table... or a charming inn in the woods... when her soul needs soothing...    EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...  what she can and can't accomplish in a day... a month...and a year...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35435165-8570257648792261747?l=yvettek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/feeds/8570257648792261747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35435165&amp;postID=8570257648792261747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/8570257648792261747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/8570257648792261747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/2007/05/to-all-my-sisters.html' title='To all my sisters!'/><author><name>Enia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17401409335561189256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35435165.post-7558724666364630868</id><published>2007-05-16T04:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T04:48:00.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>After A While    ©1971 Veronica A. Shoffstall</title><content type='html'>One of my fave poems!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and company doesn't always mean security. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and presents aren't promises&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and your eyes aheadwith the grace of woman, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;not the grief of a child &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and you learn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;to build all your roads on today &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;so you plant your own garden &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and decorate your own soul &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And you learn that you really can endure &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;you really are strong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;you really do have worth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and you learn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;and you learn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;with every goodbye, you learn...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35435165-7558724666364630868?l=yvettek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/feeds/7558724666364630868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35435165&amp;postID=7558724666364630868' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/7558724666364630868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/7558724666364630868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/2007/05/after-while-1971-veronica-shoffstall.html' title='After A While    ©1971 Veronica A. Shoffstall'/><author><name>Enia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17401409335561189256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35435165.post-4008035726322219130</id><published>2007-04-24T01:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T01:53:53.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem Galore</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Of late Iv been somewhat disenchanted and I remembered that writing poetry helps me feel better.So here's no 3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. IS OUR LOVE DEAD?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I often wondered if ,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;we could let each other go.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If we could be friends,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and be content.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If we could be near each other,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and not steal a kiss.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well,it seems we can.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Both of us intent on moving on,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but not yet ready to ..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;close the chapters of the past.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Indeed I've noticed,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the stolen glances in my direction,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the red carpet treatment,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;reserved only for the one who ...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;shares your heart..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;..your soul.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But could it be my imagination?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;my solitude capturing images..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;images that were not even there,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;...unspoken words in an attempt,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;to capture the divine love we shared.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Could it be that your love is truly dead,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and you think of me only as a friend?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;no longer the queen of your heart..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;..your confidante,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;...your first love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Could it be that we've both grown &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and gone &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;separate ways?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Could it be that we dont trust..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;dont trust our hearts?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Could you love me like before?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Remember..you promised me forever.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We had magical moments,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;we made beautiful music,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;and yes..we made love..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;sweet love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is all that in the past?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Surely,could all that love disappear?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is it truly dead?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I guess time will tell.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;For now, all I have to do is wait...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;wait for destiny to reveal its plan,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;for me...for us,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Will our love survive this test of time?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Or is it already gone...dead?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35435165-4008035726322219130?l=yvettek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/feeds/4008035726322219130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35435165&amp;postID=4008035726322219130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/4008035726322219130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/4008035726322219130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/2007/04/poem-galore.html' title='Poem Galore'/><author><name>Enia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17401409335561189256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35435165.post-3247528994870636153</id><published>2007-04-19T02:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T03:04:12.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank God Im single!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hey all, as I was coming to work today, I tuned into a local radio station.Now, the topic of the day was,"The use of protection within marriage." When I say protection, I am sure you all know what I am referring to....'gadgets', as they were calling them in the morning. Anyway,a lady calls,she has been married to her husband for 6 years and they have 1 and a half kids...ie.no. 2 is on the way.She has been suspecting her husband of adultery for the last 3 yrs of their marriage and would like to start using protection when they resume their sexual activities.So she wanted to know if this is wrong and if it would in essence push her husband away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As I was listening to this story,I was amazed by the number of men who called in and said that there was no way on this good earth that they would use condoms.The interesting bit is, they all accepted that they have affairs and some even mentioned having up to three concubines.In their eyes,once you marry someone, her 'goodies' are yours for the taking and they would all rather have them without any barriers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And it got me thinking, where are we headed to when the man insists that your body is his? Where does he get off saying no condoms within marriage and then running off with the next skirt wearer he sees? Their excuse is that they always use protection outside the home and they should not be forced to do the same in their houses.Fact is that some of these men are unaware of the proper use of these condoms and can still get infected.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It really is a shame that women still need to defend their reproductive rights in this day and age.My advice to the lady would be..."&lt;strong&gt;If&lt;/strong&gt; you want to stay together, he has to wear the condom.If he is not ready to,the door is wide open...&lt;em&gt;kama hakubali,achana naye&lt;/em&gt;.Sex is not just about fulfilling your body desires. It should be about respect. If your husband doesnt respect you or even love you enough to think of your protection and consequent health,then you are better off without him."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I dont want to sound pessimistic about marriage, that is a story for another day:-). For now, all I can say now is,Thank God Im Single.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35435165-3247528994870636153?l=yvettek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/feeds/3247528994870636153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35435165&amp;postID=3247528994870636153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/3247528994870636153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/3247528994870636153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/2007/04/thank-god-im-single.html' title='Thank God Im single!'/><author><name>Enia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17401409335561189256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35435165.post-1984513314946878737</id><published>2007-04-18T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T02:48:31.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting go</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Iv taken a break from the usual poems to write about what I am feeling at the moment. I have always believed that when you love someone,you hold on.You go through life's trials and tribulations together, not forgetting for a single minute what brought you two together in the first place. Then somewhere along life's voyage, I was faced with the dilemma, " should I leave or should I stay?" This personal battle is highlighted in my previous poem and its a battle I continue to face today,five years later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;I have been called a hopeless romantic, an idealist, a 'lost cause'. Personally, I live for the day this world will acknowledge the power of love and consequently that of hatred born out of love. I want to believe that a day will come when each being seeks to improve the life of another, when good triumphs over evil, when I do not have to shelter my heart in a relationship for fear of betrayal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;Idealistic...perhaps but that is me and I am entitled to my beliefs:-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;And as for my previous question...should I leave or should I stay? ....lets just say...Im on my way!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35435165-1984513314946878737?l=yvettek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/feeds/1984513314946878737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35435165&amp;postID=1984513314946878737' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/1984513314946878737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/1984513314946878737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/2007/04/letting-go.html' title='Letting go'/><author><name>Enia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17401409335561189256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35435165.post-5418942378033406823</id><published>2007-04-17T02:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T02:41:00.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;They say that first love is a little foolishness and a lot of curiousity. It is on this premise that I wrote this next poem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Why did you have to destroy our love?&lt;br /&gt;Why do we leave then go back?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I love you in vain?&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Why is it so hard to say goodbye?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of loving you,&lt;br /&gt;Or so I believe,&lt;br /&gt;When I leave I remember,&lt;br /&gt;Remember the loving words and Kisses,&lt;br /&gt;and then I cry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cry for a lost love,&lt;br /&gt;a would be forever,&lt;br /&gt;a feeling of appreciation,&lt;br /&gt;that touches the most bitter of souls,&lt;br /&gt;that is what you and I shared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all that is lost now,&lt;br /&gt;as we are no longer together,&lt;br /&gt;no longer an 'us',&lt;br /&gt;just 'you' and 'me' ,&lt;br /&gt;FOREVER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35435165-5418942378033406823?l=yvettek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/feeds/5418942378033406823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35435165&amp;postID=5418942378033406823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/5418942378033406823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/5418942378033406823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/2007/04/lost-love.html' title='Lost love'/><author><name>Enia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17401409335561189256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35435165.post-126173761290592151</id><published>2007-04-13T02:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T03:13:46.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Intro to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;hey all,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;This is an introduction to me....I have the capacity to love alot and this tends to get me into a lot of trouble... a lot of pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;In the past, I have written a lot on my pain but I didnt share it as I thought it was too personal..a wise gal however told me that my experiences might help someone else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;So here goes...grab the tissues and enjoy the journey to my deepest feelings:-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;1&lt;strong&gt;. HEARTBREAK&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A perfect love,&lt;br /&gt;A blissful ensemble,&lt;br /&gt;You and me…&lt;br /&gt;Together forever,&lt;br /&gt;That is what I thought..until…&lt;br /&gt;Until it happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One bright Sunday morning,&lt;br /&gt;Called me on the phone,&lt;br /&gt;And said you didn’t love me anymore,&lt;br /&gt;That’s when I fell…&lt;br /&gt;Fell into a bottomless abyss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could this happen?&lt;br /&gt;How could my Romeo become my Julius Caesar?&lt;br /&gt;Where did I go wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved you enough to forget my life’s ambitions,&lt;br /&gt;When you held me in your arms,&lt;br /&gt;All else was lost but the feel of your lips on mine,&lt;br /&gt;You the chalice, I the wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t bear it…cant stand it&lt;br /&gt;Why did you have to say goodbye?&lt;br /&gt;One thing is for sure…&lt;br /&gt;I loved you then…&lt;br /&gt;I love you now&lt;br /&gt;And forever will.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35435165-126173761290592151?l=yvettek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/feeds/126173761290592151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35435165&amp;postID=126173761290592151' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/126173761290592151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35435165/posts/default/126173761290592151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yvettek.blogspot.com/2007/04/intro-to-me.html' title='Intro to me'/><author><name>Enia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17401409335561189256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
