Biography of MONCIANA EDMONDSON
Monciana was born in the West Indies and immigrated to New York City when she was 17 years old. She is an alumnus of Herbert H. Lehman College in the Bronx, where she played Div III basketball and earned a BA in History.
She is curious about life and is always seeking the lessons in everyday occurrences. She is currently a model and actress.
MONCIANA EDMONDSON Poems
A Simple No
Is it the light in my eyes? Or the breadth of my thighs Maybe the curve of my hips And the smile on my lips?
I Need The Sun
I need the sun I need fun No sun no fun Did you use a gun
A love life that's crippled, lame No longer do I wish to play this game Way too old for his mess Not jumping through hoops to pass his test
I have walked my loneliest step Each day just another lonely rep I have cried my loneliest cry And sighed my loneliest sigh
What Do You Live For...
What do you live for? What is the purpose of each breath? From birth to death? From whence comes the power in every step?
What If I?
What if I were to lie Would you stay or say goodbye What if I were sick, would you still want to come by What if I were to die
There is a song in my head. It won't allow me to rest. I still feel the melody playing in my breast. The melody, the memory of your touch.
Contentment is only an elusion, mass delusion, A fairytale: that comforts us wretched ones We who suffer through this human existence. Daily trying to go the distance.
I have outgrown your backyard. With it's dark corners, And arid soil. No more will you stunt my growth,
The drum beats of your heart are strong and loud Listen closely; in each beat your liberty is to be found War drums that speak the language of love; self-love The breath demands that voice be heard
Your words are like the desert sand Always shifting Dry and arid, no life grows there Play your games, the truth incinerates like volcanic flames
My Last Man
The last man I was with helped me feel small An attempt to make his soul seem tall At first enthralled What I found in his arms would make my mother appalled
The Long Way Home
Home is where true love dwells Life giving sustenance always flows from her wells The comfort of her arms invites and compels Nourishing those that would only seek
I accepted the gift of life Gestation: parasitic feeding, I grew In the womb the seeds of life renew Living cells moving to the sustaining rhythm of life
You who deceptively deceive
We who still believe
The Few who stay true
To love that continues to brew and renew.
To the few who know the truth,
There is no quick fix in a touch and the meeting of lips,
Nor the pleasure to be found in the movement of hips
Not money nor fame,
Will ever douse that flame.