Monday, December 16, 2013

Emerging bestselling author Monya Williams

Poetry is amazing, inspirational and very humble. Her spiritual and loving approach to life and writings is amazing. There is so much healing and grace in her poetry, words and the beliefs she lives by. This book is by far a true testimony of life, healing and moving forward.
Please share support the cause and emerging author!              
 
Now available on kindle at a discounted price $.99 get your copy today "My Eyes Saw More Than My Heart Could Handle. "
 

Friday, November 22, 2013

My Eyes Saw More Than My Heart Could Handle

Poetry is amazing, inspirational and very humble. Her spiritual and loving approach to life and writings is amazing. There is so much healing and grace in her poetry, words and the beliefs she lives by. This book is by far a true testimony of life, healing and moving forward.

Now available on kindle at a discounted price $.99 get your copy today "My Eyes Saw More Than My Heart Could Handle. "

http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B00FW5VQ6U/ref=mp_s_a_1_4?qid=1381927566&sr=8-4&pi=AC_SX110_SY165

Monday, November 18, 2013

Never Again

You shitted on my hand of friendship,  now that you want something I have you want to be my friend. I've played these games in my past so people like you have no room in my present or future.  Stop trying to use people to get what you want. If its meant for you then you will have it if not then realize it's not for you. Life is too short to not have any peace so for me I chose peace,  happiness and LOVE. Find your way and your own life and stop trying to evade mine. My life is how I made it or shall I say allowed it to be. Your life is how you made it or allowed it to be, so live your life and stop worrying about mine. I don't need any bad seeds in my life that will corrupt my harvest. I have one life, spirit and soul therefore I select who I allow to enter into it. I'm seeking a better walk with God I'm choosing to be and do better. You my friend have not yet figured that part out. You constantly manipulate and deceive people for your personal gain. Everything you desire from people learn to give it before you try to receive it. I'm not perfect nor do I try to be but I want my life as peaceful as I can get it, I want all that God has promised me. So you do you and I'll do me and if a friendship is destined to happen it will be by GOD...

Friday, November 1, 2013

My Eyes Saw More Than My Heart Could Handle

Get your copy today for $.99 or by it as a gift.Elegantly, incisively written raw in its honesty, profound in its insights “My Eyes Saw More Than My Heart Could Handle” this is not simply the story of an individual artist but a crucial book of poetry itself. The poems are passionate, sometimes angry, out spoken and often compelling. Her talent is unbounded an intimidating raw force that commanded attention and respect. She is an eloquent and honorable role model and her poetry is a perfect example of her depth as a humble human being. A powerful poet that speaks to all audiences her perspective takes her desire in love and her passion for life to another level. Her gift of storytelling is indomitable and vibrant. Monya Williams’s most intimate and honest thoughts were uncovered at an early age due to the deferment of a dream. My Eyes Saw More Than My Heart Could Handle gives the reader a harrowing portrait of the rough worlds of Monya navigating through her riveting exploration through her life’s journey. So thoroughly engrossing, it speaks from a cultural viewpoint. Monya Williams distinguishes herself here as a true artist and a writer of deep talent. This book is the story of an artist in constant evolution, one who embodies the strength of the brilliant woman who doesn’t pacify the daunting ills life has to offer.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00FW5VQ6U?ie=UTF8&force-full-site=1&ref_=aw_bottom_links

Monday, July 1, 2013

God is love

http://letjesushelpyou.com/2013/06/the-divine-love-of-god-is-love-enough-to-forgive/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+Daily-Devotionals+%28Daily+Devotionals%29

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Love, Lust or Lies

Get your copy today.

Hot erotic, sexy love making, kinky poetic romance that will bring your fantasies to life. Pain never felt so pleasureable as you are captivated by the pains of love and the realities of lies. The playtime Karma-Sutra of lust and the betrayals of the one your heart yearns for the most. Not all love hurts, not everyone lust but most do tell lies. Allow the truths of them all to bound your every senses and take you to on an sensually amazing ride.

http://youtu.be/MAVr-QMYo6I

http://youtu.be/MAVr-QMYo6I

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Live

Never allow someone else's vision for your life become the vision you live by. We are given a vision for a reason and its not to live by someone else's perspective.  You are amazingly designed to be who you are. Don't let other people blueprint of life destroy what is custom made in you.
Live life freely and happy, make the most of ever moment. Just existing in life is no way to live. Encourage yourself to be the best you that you can be. You never know in the process you maybe doing the same for someone else.  How you live and see yourself just maybe what another individual needs in order to be free. You can save a life just by living yours.
I love me more than anyone else can and by me doing so I can show other's the love they need and deserve.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Marriage

MARRIAGE

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and
said, I've got something to tell you.She sat down and ate quietly. Again I
observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn't know how to open my
mouth.But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I
raised the topic calmly.She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead
she asked me softly, why? I avoided her question.This made her angry. She
threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night,
we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out
what had happened to our marriage.

But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; I had lost my heart to
Jane. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her! With a deep sense of
guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our
house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore
it into pieces.

The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger.
I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take
back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in
front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was
actually a kind of release.

The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be
firmer and clearer now.

The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at
the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep
very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane. When I woke
up, she was still there at the table writing.

I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.

In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want
anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. She
requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life
as possible.

Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month's time and she
didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage. This was agreeable to
me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her
into out bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that every day for
the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever
morning. I thought she was going crazy.

Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.

I told Jane about my wife's divorce conditions. . She laughed loudly and
thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face
the divorce, she said scornfully.

My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was
explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both
appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his
arms. His words brought me a sense of pain.

From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten
meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don't tell
our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down
outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the
office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my
chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse.

I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I
realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face,
her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I
wondered what I had done to her.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy
returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. On
the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing
again.

I didn't tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month
slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. She was choosing
what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not
find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger.

I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I
could carry her more easily.

Suddenly it hit me. she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart.
Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.

Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it's time to carry mom out. To
him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part
of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him
tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind
at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom,
through the sitting room, to the hallway.

Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly;
it was just like our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our
son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn't noticed that
our life lacked intimacy. I drove to office.. jumped out of the car swiftly
without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my
mind.I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Jane,
I do not want the divorce anymore. She looked at me, astonished, and then
touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my
head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I won't divorce.

My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the
details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other anymore. Now I
realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am
supposed to hold her until death do us apart.

Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed
the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.

At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife.
The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I'll
carry you out every morning until death do us apart. That evening I arrived
home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run up stairs, only to find
my wife in the bed - dead.

My wife had been fighting CANCER for months and I was so busy with Jane to
even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from
the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push thru with the
divorce.- At least, in the eyes of our son- I'm a loving husband..

The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It
is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create
an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in
themselves.

So find time to be your spouse's friend and do those little things for each
other that build intimacy. Do have a real happy marriage! If you don't share
this, nothing will happen to you. If you do, you just might save a marriage.
Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were
to success when they gave up.

I love this story.

Monday, April 8, 2013

For sale

There comes a time in your life when you have to cut all ties from your past. This is my time so I'm selling two women rings both size 7 & 1ct for $2000 each or best offer. If you are interested email me at monyalw38@gmail.com no low balling. They are from Jared's quality rings.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Love, Lust or Lies (romance novel) By Monya Williams

Love lust or lies is a southern urban fiction book of romance with a touch of poetry by Jacksonville's own Monya Williams. See how the entanglement of the hearts want, desires, and needs captivates you reeling you into the pleasures of the mind, body and soul. Feel the passion for one's aspiration to love and be loved, the longing to be touched and the choices that have been made in order for these events to take place. The knowing when to let seasonal things past in order to make way for lifetime embraces. Monya Williams explores the false realities of the misunderstanding of relationships as she personifies the truths about life and love. Taking blinders off our eyes in order for us to see what truly is and not just what we want them to be. Let go and become captured in the journey of love lust or lies as she draws you in as if it were your story being told. Love lust or lies by Monya Williams go out and get your copy you will be glad you did.

www.createspace.com/3636211

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Free


You were the dagger in my heart,

spark from not being grounded,

wounded from trusting in the lies told,

behold I know the truth in your lies,

wise enough to know enough is enough,

and to much of enough ain’t no good,

misunderstood my wants for my needs,

greed took over,

 rolled over between someone else’s legs,

in someone’s else’s bed,

fed me false hope,

provoked to seek peace from someone like me,

not my enemy I no longer sleep with thee,

free to be me in my own skin,

so close to me she’s called my next of kin,

pretend no more,

the whore is who you adore,

explore her rejection to you,

your plans fell through,

no more me and you,

throughout the night your bed is cold,

bold I am to shine in your darkness,

confess I'm blessed despite this mess,

righteousness prevails,

bed rails of misery,

fiery darts thrown at you by you,

blue in the face flat lined,

intertwined screwed by Satan’s mistress,

depressed you played and got played,

betrayed by your own ego and pride,

hells ride is full of discomfort, embarrassment, resentment,

content with the outcome I've moved on,

strong and more powerful than ever,

clever enough to show you,

who’s true my back is covered,

my lover,

partner got it under control,

blow your mind your pressure and all,

fall to your knees pray and seek forgiveness,

confess for all the lies,

cries go unheard no feelings felt from your words,

heard no more from your own ears,

tears burn like acid on your face,

displaced in your soul no longer recognized,

despised by your flock,

mocked only to be put to shame,

tame your loins and find peace,

defeat once again as history repeats,

greet a new way of living,

thinking of ways old,

let go in order to become whole,

shalom I wish for you,

through for sure now that this poem  puts you and my past in its proper place,

about face never to look back.

 

                ©2012 Monya Williams


Monday, February 11, 2013

The pickle jar

The pickle jar as far back as I can remember sat on the floor beside the dresser in my parents' bedroom. When he got ready for bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar.
As a small boy I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made as they were dropped into the jar . They landed with a merry jingle when the jar was almost empty. Then the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the jar was filled.
I used to squat on the floor in front of the jar and admire the copper and silver circles that glinted like a pirate's treasure when the sun poured through the bedroom window. When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the bank.
Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production. Stacked neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were placed between Dad and me on the seat of his old truck.
Each and every time, as we drove to the bank, Dad would look at me hopefully. 'Those coins are going to keep you out of the textile mill, son. You're going to do better than me. This old mill town's not going to hold you back.'
Also, each and every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins across the counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin proudly 'These are for my son's college fund. He'll never work at the mill all his life like me.'
We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping for an ice cream cone. I always got chocolate. Dad always got vanilla. When the clerk at the ice cream parlor handed Dad his change, he would show me the few coins nestled in his palm. 'When we get home, we'll start filling the jar again.' He always let me drop the first coins into the empty jar. As they rattled around with a brief, happy jingle, we grinned at each other. 'You'll get to college on pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters,' he said. 'But you'll get there. I'll see to that'
The years passed, and I finished college and took a job in another town. Once, while visiting my parents, I used the phone in their bedroom, and noticed that the pickle jar was gone. It had served its purpose and had been removed.
A lump rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside the dresser where the jar had always stood. My dad was a man of few words, and never lectured me on the values of determination, perseverance, and faith. The pickle jar had taught me all these virtues far more eloquently than the most flowery of words could have done. When I married, I told my wife Susan about the significant part the lowly pickle jar had played in my life as a boy. In my mind, it defined, more than anything else, how much my dad had loved me..
No matter how rough things got at home, Dad continued to doggedly drop his coins into the jar. Even the summer when Dad got laid off from the mill, and Mama had to serve dried beans several times a week, not a single dime was taken from the jar.
To the contrary, as Dad looked across the table at me, pouring catsup over my beans to make them more palatable, he became more determined than ever to make a way out for me. 'When you finish college, Son,' he told me, his eyes glistening, 'You'll never have to eat beans again - unless you want to.'
The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born, we spent the holiday with my parents. After dinner, Mom and Dad sat next to each other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling their first grandchild. Jessica began to whimper softly, and Susan took her from Dad's arms. 'She probably needs to be changed,' she said, carrying the baby into my parents' bedroom to diaper her. When Susan came back into the living room, there was a strange mist in her eyes.
She handed Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand and leading me into the room. 'Look,' she said softly, her eyes directing me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the old pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I walked over to the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out a fistful of coins. With a gamut of emotions choking me, I dropped the coins into the jar. I looked up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had slipped quietly into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was feeling the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak.
This truly touched my heart. I know it has yours as well. Sometimes we are so busy adding up our troubles that we forget to count our blessings.
Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life, for better or for worse.
God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for Good in others.
The best and most beautiful things cannot be seen or touched - they must be felt with the heart ~ Helen Keller

- Happy moments, praise God.
- Difficult moments, seek God.
- Quiet moments, worship God.
- Painful moments, trust God.
- Every moment, thank God.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Love

Romans 12:9 KJV

Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is

God is not the author of confusion, often we tend to step out of the will of God because we choose not to be patient and wait on him to move in our lives. We are to love as the bible says so. Too many times we try to force people to love the way we feel they should instead of accepting the only way in which they know how to love. Love is about compromising give and take, not all about self.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Love Lust or Lies

Love lust or lies is a southern urban fiction book of romance by Jacksonville's own Monya Williams. See how the entanglement of the hearts want, desires, and needs captivates you reeling you into the pleasures of the mind, body and soul. Feel the passion for one's aspiration to love and be loved, the longing to be touched and the choices that have been made in order for these events to take place. The knowing when to let seasonal things past in order to make way for lifetime embraces. Monya Williams explores the false realities of the misunderstanding of relationships as she personifies the truths about life and love. Taking blinders off our eyes in order for us to see what truly is and not just what we want them to be. Let go and become captured in the journey of love lust or lies as she draws you in as if it were your story being told. Love lust or lies by Monya Williams go out and get your copy you will be glad you did.

www.createspace.com/3636211