The Silent Cries Of A Barbie Doll: New Edition

By Tamika Barr-Jaskolka

The Silent Cries Of A Barbie Doll is a novel based on this poet's reflection of personal hardship, fear and tribulation, like a diamond in the rough. She had to be picked up and dust off before anyone could see the true value she possess.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pen2Paper Press, Ltd.
• Release date: Jan 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798885676489

Tamika Barr-Jaskolka

Tamika Barr-Jaskolka writes motivational, spiritual poetry as well as non-fiction novels in which touch the hearts while tackling the minds of all who come to read this poetic author's tale.Tamika Barr-Jaskolka lives her life as a hermit, someone who can easily be passed by, in traffic and never be seen however this extraordinary poet's writing can not be that simply overlooked, for this poetic author writes poetry in which projects music to most reader's ears while the intimate stories she gives her readers can be felt with great compassion and be seen through the deepest illustration, this author paints with words, in each of her books: The Second Time Around, The Curious Mind Of Little Athena and The Silent Cries Of A Barbie Doll. Tamika Barr-Jaskolka is constantly writing for her up & next coming books: The Ever Changing Faces Of Blackness, and The Rap King!

Book preview

God Speaks

My child I’m the ALPHA AND OMEGA. The beginning and the end.

For life to come or go, my dear, I must state when. That’s the rule no matter how gentle or cruel and the rules? I determine when they are to be bent. The longer you dwell in hell I assure you the greater you will sin. But if one should knock, I will answer just pray I let you in. Under the hardest of circumstances, I’ve been known, to be a very good friend.

My Beginning

My name is Barbie Desiree Smith, and I was born to Susan Marie Smith and James Robert Smith on November 22, 1970. My mother is a tall,

Full figure, beautiful, mild, manner, white, woman, and my father is a tall, thin, handsome, educated, black man and through their union, my brother and I were conceived. My mother named me Barbie Doll, for she professes, that as a child. I was so adorable, I looked like a living, Barbie Doll.

Although as a child, I was very fair skin with jet black curly hair, looking more of Spanish descent, than black and white however the older I got, my complexion gradually darkens, to the honey tone, I am today, with my complexion, my thick lips, and round nose, are the strong indicators of my black ethnicity, and my long, straight hair with long, sleek legs are the strong indicators of my European Ethnicity, my identity is no longer, mistakenly denied. To my mother and father, I ‘am, and will always be their Barbie Doll but to my Lovers, I am just another attractive woman.

My parents always treated me with gentleness and kindness however the men I choose, throughout my life, treated me like anything, but a Barbie Doll. I was raised in a middle-class neighborhood. My parents worked hard to give me a life filled with little regrets but the life I ended up living, consumed me with many regrets. Although my father was raised as a Muslim and my mother was a catholic, I became spiritually grounded early, conflicting as it may sound, both holy books offer conviction to believe, Christ is the true Light from God. This is what I received from them however my conviction was more profound from one than the other.

My mother is a patient woman and she endured plenty from my father, mostly through His threats of leaving in his desperate attempts to weaken my mother from the frequent baseless accusations of affairs she perpetually accused him of. My father worked long hours, fourteen hours shifts, five days a week, as a businessman and an independent electrician however he played hard too. He would ritualistically stop by one bar, every day before Coming home from work and this would upset my mother deeply. I would hear her cries about it, as I listen, closely, behind the closed doors. Something my mother was unaware of for many years however my grandparents was aware. My mother’s parents never made my brother and I feel uncomfortable whenever we were in their presence however, I could see the resentment they held towards my mother, for being with my father. It was through those moments, I came to witness, the strong bond, my mother and my father possess for one another, which I grew to long for that in my life as a woman however founding it has been more of a challenge, for me, than life; itself.

The Marking

The Taste of my Blood became very familiar to me, my nose would bleed often, and whenever someone would upset me like he or she, my nose would start to bleed, like an unclogged faucet with water bursting free. Causing my mother to be frightened and cautious whenever she dealt with me. As doctors try to determine what the situation could be, only to determine that it was nothing more than excessive pressure, in its form of release. But at night it became more of a threat for me, from the excessive drainage of blood, caused great concern that I may drown.

In my sleep. Until one day, I prayed to my lord, in an emotional weep, this is when the lord spoke to me, requesting me to stand back onto my weary feet.

"Your bleeding is your barring, true indeed,

You’re my child; soon you’ll come to see,

It’s something you may not want yet it’s