The Understanding.

You See, the problem is......
that we don't see eye-to-eye.
and on top of that absence,
we don't agree in too many ways.

A simple kiss used to heal all of this;
but I'm looking for a crutch these days...
clutching for a dutch to relax my brain,
cuz it's only cloud filled outlooks...
& thunderstorm thoughts under the Sun's rays.

I try to write you letters
in an attempt to paint pictures,
but out of that comes books...
and in my life I have trouble turning the page.

Part of my problem is this...
I hold onto the past.
Both the good and bad,
Both the happy and sad,
the pretty shit...
and the pretty fucking ugly shit.
Hey, at least I'm fair, right?

With the same emotional arms
that I squeeze fond memories,
I choke the shit out of grudges.
Big ones, small ones...
fresh and forgotten seemingly.
And I'm not saying it's right...
...but dammit it's justified.
Especially when I have been paying
for the past...for far too long,
one that I wasn't even a part of
but has me singing blues songs...
...is it right? I should understand?

Well understand this: I feel you...
I feel you in ways that you don't know,
understand you in ways that I won't show...
from a stance of "never love again",
to the "let's see how this is gon' go".
Because I know...
...I used to be you.

Heartbreak...

The still air was pursed by the exhaling of words…


Of news she didn’t want to face, even when spoken

She became overcome, infected and overrun with emotion

Tears streamed, exploring alternate routes down her face…

As everything else stood still, in place…

..................

As if the environment was in shock behind the news,

Just as dumbfounded as she, stricken stiff with grief

When rejection finally became much more than a notion

Brushed her face with a forceful open hand full of reality…


It had taken so much to build up the courage in the first,

Tuck away her pride in the name of love & the big picture

Only for the painting in her mind to be yet another fallacy.

Heartbroken where she stood, averted the eyes of others

This setting was far too public; sons, daughters & mothers…

Seemingly all sharing her pain, humiliation and grief,

They realized…that it could just as easily be one of them.


Denied public assistance, three children to raise,

Laid off of her day job, the night job underpays…

This is her Heartbreak, hurts her deeper than any breakup,

Scares worse than any nightmare; she could always wake up.



The walls are closing in, options becoming more limited

Depressed about life, but not thinking about quitting it…

No family support, children’s father died in a car wreck,

All she has left is her children & the love for them…

The love for them…No Ordinary Love; it’s Love Deluxe...



Judge her not when you see her now; she’s of those peculiar cases,

And just know that her story is one filled with tough decisions…

She used to always have a good rep; some things traded places…

Her life is a tragic downward spiral that no one ever envisioned...

So when her rep is heard now, old friends hold astonished faces.

She never sold her soul, but sold her body for her children’s lives

At the same time cementing that she may never be another man’s wife.

If her heart isn't broken, then certainly mine is...

As I look over her from Heaven, feeling virtually helpless.

Visions...

Visions prove to be nothing
more than optical illusions,
And trying to get through is
misconstrued as an intrusion.

The storm's calm amongst mass confusion,
Proves to be amusing with no provocation,
Just a bunch of fancy clowns
Dressed up for the occasion.

Visions prove to be nothing
more than optical illusions…
Following blindly is easier for most to embark,
than taking your own steps in the dark.

So, Mind control goes on a stroll…
looking for validation
In a world full of thoughtless souls
eager for assimilation…
A fiend for vindication...
ignorant Blacks get euthanized
w/ no affiliation to the Aryan Nation.

Visions prove to be nothing
more than optical illusions…
chasing entertainment in itself,
is something that I find amusing...

So Even if I wanted to...
and I don't...
you would never catch me putting on a show,
I refuse to do a song and dance;
I suppose that in a sense
I'm Fighting the Temptations…

Visions prove to be nothing
more than optical illusions…
so what we read is nothing
but empty 'facts' yet to be proven.

We are surrounded by history
and examples of misery...
proud pasts turned into fiction,
so who we are is a mystery.

Visions prove to be nothing
more than optical illusions…
but our hearts bleed real imagery,
and speak an unseen truth.

Just listen to Ella Fitzgerald
or the moans…
and groans…
of Nina Simone,
Then tell me why I should continue
to pity a fool like Mr. T.

Visions prove to be nothing
more than optical illusions…
so should I trust what I forsee?

I have a vision of the things we could be...
if we got our heads out of our own asses
and our feet out of others,
If we took the time out
to once again be fathers and mothers,
Stopped trying to always be fighters,
and made room for the lovers,
Quit trying to scheme on those
who are a bloodline away
from being our sisters and brothers,
Started to look up,
instead of searching down for somebody to step on,
Woke up the world ourselves
instead of using the excuse of being 'slept on',
Stopped claiming colors and blocks;
and learned how to get our REAL 'rep' on…

That’s what I see.

But visions prove to be nothing..
Nothing more than optical illusions
In the eyes and mind of a dreamer.
But I still believe.

Miami's Poem: Hendrixity (Jimi Hendrix' Purple Haze poem remix)

*this is a poem from my friend Miami (www.twitter.com/MiamiLPanema) in honor of Jimi Hendrix...check it out & leave feedback*

Pull Heads
Turn off the Lights
Psycho...Delic Trice
Spinnin.....
Ghetto Ways

Excuse me, while I kiss the sky.

Blast me
Try to see if I'm ok.
But all you do....
Is drive my trains
Into,
Tunnels that's stoned

Its too late to tell me right from wrong.

Between.
What was a strong of love.
Sex me baby
Wit all your songs.
Singing
Lasted for one night

Now I'm back to say that I'm still high

Hendroxikayted
Tank hunt of mentally
Algababrated
Souls one immortally
NeoFoxADrankTea
Sultextatry

Speak english to me please....

Pull Heads
Turn of the Lights
Psycho...Delic Trice
Spinnin.....
Ghetto Ways

Excuse me, while I kiss the sky.

Fog formin in my eye's way
My 3rd view is saying to infiltrate.
A new wrong.
But I want it out my way.
How something so good,
Can take away my sane

2003-2007 Previews - The Room Pt. IV (Curtain Call)

Black suit on,

black tie,

white shirt

with the lipstick smeared...

left collar.

It's been a while since our lips kissed here

Been a while since she let her guard down...

dismissed fear for the sake of making love.rain...

dear.

Went from every day feeling like December 25th,

the most special time of the year...

to my reality being brought down to ground Zero:

the world's crashing and burning around my ears...

I left everything I cared for...but all signs point back

to here...this room with so much history etched in,

like a desktop showing who I love...sketched in pen.

I survey the room...no sight of her...

except for the pile of clothes on the floor,

and the hanger marks, but of course...

a trail of love's paint in the direction of the window?

I admit...I am caught off-guard for once in life.

My mind has already put together the scene,

I just wish it wasn't starring my wife.

Slow stalking steps toward the cherrywood frame

bloody fingerprints smeared on the pale yellow walls...

surrounding the window in which life turned into fallacy,

and the end of the beginning turned concrete, became.

There was no need to look out and downward;

Already knew in my mind she was long gone...

She was enamored with what's out the window,

every bird to fly, every moonrise, every dawn...

Perhaps I was caging her in, trapped in this room,

A Romance Doomed, an spiritual demise to 'us'...

or the actual sunrise of distrust shone strong

to eradicate the lonely nights of togetherness?

Nevertheless, she's free now...didn't use the door,

it would have been too much like a failed audition;

a Hollywood Divorce...

You walk out knowing that it's all said and done...

and there's only regret from both parties left over.

Well, this is the end of my scene.

I'm all dressed now,

well-groomed and high-strung

rope's irritating the neck,

had no idea how it stung...

the Sun shines bright on my waves,

swinging back and forth

above a kicked-over chair

where my still body sways...

this is the Honeymoon,

we should toast to life now.

2003-2007 Previews - The Room Pt. III (Out The Window)

I can feel another presence in this space.

As if the person were RIGHT.HERE...

wrapped up in her feelings...or

wrapped up in our dealings.

I drove her and myself to crazy...

right within these four walls.

There are scrapes on the floor,

multiple scratches on the door..

all so deep, that the room began to bleed.

This is where I spent my time...

minutes, hours and days...

locked in, just us two...

sizing each other up,

trying to figure out one thing:

who's the victim?

There's no escape for one of us...

as good as dead here.

Worst part is, this room brings out the best...

...and the worst of regrets and fears.

and the only way to rid of them,

is throwing them out the window.

But even that idea's out the window,

because no one else deserves that...

won't rely on help to break my wall.

Can't bear down on someone...

like a blazing September Sun,

breaking my Fall...

Now it's all out the window...

and everyone now knows...

like a too loud heated convo,

and it's nobody's business.

Trapped in this room...

with HER, no less.

Life is grand, I suppose

because she cares...

and I could have ended it,

by throwing it all out the window.

But I didn't...

But I still have that option.

Nightmares.

Every day leads to a nightmare...
and nights ease into nightmares.
The Sun is shining...
But that's just Hell peeking in to make sure I suffer.
At night, the moon shines...
so I find reason to drink
and dull the thoughts
that the moon is just God turning her back on me.
This isn't a movie:
if She's walking off, I won't call out...
Foolish pride is unscripted,
and far less dramatic,
causes far less static...
at least in my fabric.

Everyone's supposedly cut from different cloths...
so I keep my mind naked and wide open,
to share my unadulterated thoughts.
I run into things I didn't see coming,
the pain causes tears...
my eyes cry open.
I close my eyes and run into things
that I thought I had finally escaped.
So I open my eyes...
Try to save myself, no one else wears the cape
only to awake to
another day full of nightmares

2003-2007 Previews - The Room Pt. II

note: My next few posts will be some previews (in a sense) for what to expect from 2003-2007. For those who know what I'm talking about...yeah, here's a peek at some stuff I was toying with in assistance. Don't worry though, the ones I post won't be in the book...[warning: It's more of a dark themed overall feel...but perfect timing in regards to feelings.]

*this is some dual poem shit in a sense...the slash is the divider. First line/lines are the male, the secondary line(s) are the female. It all takes place in "the room"...as they both are in there at the same time, silence being deafening.*


We descended back down here in Hell so suddenly; it's unreal...

Things used to be high flying like a dove, felt like Heaven's dream/

I remember being on Cloud 9 at all times when waters stood still;

suddenly the room was engulfed in flames, something I've never seen..

Now I feel myself isolated, outside of the feelings she's all caught up in,

trying to peer over the wall that's been formed to defend against me/

I somehow feel trapped within my own defense mechanism against him,

but I've always left the door unlocked for if he ever tried to step inside...

This is a game of chance that I'll have no parts of...it shouldn't be like this,

going to bed with poker faces on, only to wake up protecting our hands/

I always sit up at night and stare at my reflection in his wedding band,

maybe it's me who's complicated things; maybe it's not just the man...

I can't take this, I'm grabbing my jacket to get some much-needed air...

Everytime I look her way, she's always seemingly gazing out the window.

Fine, I'm tucking my heart; no Valentine...grabbed the handle of the door,

looked back one last time...no goodbyes./

I couldn't find the words to make him stay when I saw him grab for his coat,

so I did what I've been trying to do to what's holding me back: let go...

We've both got our demons, but he's seemingly vanquished his & reached out

Attempting to help me...but it's not that cut and dry; I'm needing an escape route.

Her:

So here we are, alone yet again...

just me and my own worst enemy...

I cannot think of anything else to do,

other than grab the clothes hanger...

and make a fortress out of clothes,

to defend myself.

-end-

2003-2007 Previews - The Room

note: My next few posts will be some previews (in a sense) for what to expect from 2003-2007. For those who know what I'm talking about...yeah, here's a peek at some stuff I was toying with in assistance. Don't worry though, the ones I post won't be in the book...[warning: It's more of a dark themed overall feel...but perfect timing in regards to feelings.]

*this is some dual poem shit in a sense...the slash is the divider. First line/lines are the male, the secondary line(s) are the female. It all takes place in "the room"...as they both are in there at the same time, silence being deafening.*



This room isn't big enough for the both of us/
This room isn't big enough for the both of us...

The sunset shining I see out the window is an example,
a symbol if you will...of the dwindling hope for us/
The sunset shining used to easily draw my attention;
now it serves as a distraction so I can forget about 'us'...

This wooden closet...if it were to hold all of our problems,
it would need an infinite amount of hangars and shelves/
He's looking at the closet in a transfixed state...
as if he sees every one of his skeletons before him...

Look at her, judging...assuming...and I thought she was the best of them,
turns out she's AGAINST ME...she's simply just like the rest of them/
I have no idea where his mind has gone...where the man that was so ALIVE,
so eager, so IN LOVE has gone...to leave me with this shell of him...

I've spent countless hours in this very room, walking on this oak floor...
wondering where it went wrong, why it went out the window.../
Little does he know the days that I've sat in the middle of this floor...
surrounded by clothes strewn everywhere, tears fell somewhere...

The heels on my Oxfords making scratches as I turned and wheeled,
back and forth...pacing away to a suicidal soundtrack in my mind.../
..scrapes I've created in the wood, from the hangars I've clutched,
when self-inflicted pain was my crutch...bloody Merry in a sense...

It's why I always folded up her clothes she left haphazardly on the floor,
it gave me something to focus on...take my mind away from the window/
He always seemed so concerned with why I was mopping and waxing the floor,
I swear he saw the scrapes from me...but never said a word; anything...

(to be continued)

2003-2007 Previews - Amnesia

note: My next few posts will be some previews (in a sense) for what to expect from 2003-2007. For those who know what I'm talking about...yeah, here's a peek at some stuff I was toying with in assistance. Don't worry though, the ones I post won't be in the book...[warning: It's more of a dark themed overall feel...but perfect timing in regards to feelings.]


Stumbling around the kitchen,
eyes glazed, drunken stupor
but the pain hasn't numbed a bit...
it just seems to have gotten more intense.

Intentionally falling head-first into the counter-side,
in two ways you could say I'm trying to cut corners...
because my amnesia is seemingly defective,
subjective...
I wish that it was at worst a little bit selective...
So here I am, enjoying being drunk off of liquor
but suffering from sobering heartbreak...
Trying the transferrence of pain trick,
bumping my head to shape my brain up quick
in hopes of some type of major memory loss.

Maybe then I could be happy, if I could only forget
the stories told to me without blinking or stuttering,
with eyes wavering or muttering,
trying to rebuild a foundation on some MAC lies...

Making others suffer for my own pain was never my intent
So I just keep banging my head...hoping to one day forget.

2003-2007 Previews - Stargazing

note: My next few posts will be some previews (in a sense) for what to expect from 2003-2007. For those who know what I'm talking about...yeah, here's a peek at some stuff I was toying with in assistance. Don't worry though, the ones I post won't be in the book...[warning: It's more of a dark themed overall feel...but perfect timing in regards to feelings.]


It's all in the eyes...
That's where I always saw the spark
The light strong enough to brighten all of my days
Bright enough to keep the dark thoughts away...

Now all that matters is decayed,
So my thoughts turn grey
Like her hair will never be,
And the tombstone at her grave.

You were helping me find myself...
Left me without a map, and all by myself...
Can't muster up the courage to just die myself...
Just to meet you; so I just sit in the dark and cry...
By myself.

Hiatus.

Not the name of a poem, it's just what it is for the time being........................okay, maybe it's the name of a poem too. But this is the last post for a while...I've got a few things to put work into and focus on.


HI.
The greeting always feels like 'goodbye'.
Maybe it's the reason behind rhyme...
or maybe it was only a matter of time.
Either way, my appetite's gone...
been a while since I last ate...

EIGHT.
That many nights since insomnia re-appeared...
making fun of my intentions,
and pouring gasoline onto my biggest fears.
Been hesitant in making my decisions...
especially the ones concerning me and you, here.

US.
We, you and me, 'he plus she'...
whatever you address, just be sure to call...
so I can put a voice to the writing on the wall.
The ominous messages telling me it's time
to take a hiatus, leave each other be.

While I Wait...

The yelling was less deafening than the silence.
As much as I used to cover my ears,
I'd keep my hands at my sides now
if I could get the yelling back.

I never knew the extent of the fights,
just that it was a battle of wits,
mixed with a contest of bitch-fits,
and topped off with a "Fuck you"...
all for good measure I suppose.

The talks afterwards were the worst though.
I felt like a witness on one of those TV shows,
where two detectives take turns in the room,
asking odd questions and making statements...
like, "You know this has nothing to do with you, right?"
and, "We both love you very much baby" to me.

Of course, this was always after another argument,
where I would be sent to my room in the afternoon
or can't come in the house when I'm outside playing...
so I learned to just wait until the music turned down,
the backdrop to their curse words and insults...
the instrumental that never drowned them out,
the same music that I wish were playing right now.

If the music were playing, and the shouts were starting,
I'd know that we were here. together. a family.
and that they still loved each other...
I take that back; They still tell me they do,
just not enough to work it out I guess,
and of course, this has nothing to do with me.

But somewhere in my mind I misconstrue:
and think that they want nothing to do with me.
The weekend exchanges...I felt like a UPS package.
Both always trying to out-do the other,
but it seems that it was never ME they had in mind.
More questions...
"Did your father buy you those brand new shoes?"
"I bet your mother wouldn't let you stay up this late huh?"
"Your father doesn't bring any other women around you does he?"
"You would tell me if your mother has strange men at home, right?"

One day, I just packed up my book bag
with as much stuff that could fit
as many snacks as I could carry
and the blanket that my mom and dad always used...
and I left.
I left because I don't like being in the middle.
I left because I don't like choosing who's right.
I left because I don't know what went wrong...

I left because it was no longer "us"...
it was "me and her" or "me and him"
and I just want "us" back...
so I left it up to "him and her"
in a note titled "While I Wait..."

...in the dark.

...in the dark.
Meet me there.

Doesn't really matter what you wear,
don't care what fragrance you choose,
It'll be just me...and you...
in the dark.

Let me learn of your beauty
without using eyesight
so if I were to ever be
blinded permanently,
never again to see light...
I could still see you,
in the dark.

Allow my fingertips to trace
the very outline of your existence
until I've got it down-pat,
with my eyes closed...
so even as I sleepwalk,
I wouldn't miss a step
on your body's trail...
in the dark.

When your vision adjusts to the night,
search for me...let me feel your stare
so that I can know where to look
in a room full of hundreds of eyes...
It will be your glare that lights
those despondent days
when the sun doesn't act right.

Love me to your fullest potential,
hold onto me in the dark...
as if you were to lose me
if you ever let go of your grip.

And I promise to do the same,
in the dark, or the light.

Changing Seasons

Maybe I'm the reason,
and was in search for the rhyme
or
perhaps you were the season,
and didn't see the change coming.

What was thought to be the long haul,
in essence turned into a short trip
and now we must embrace anew...

A new beginning
after an ending
that in fact,
I knew about.

She's changing...
can no longer see her sons
under the same unified light.

We're changing...
trying to emerge out of
the darkest part of the night.

Your season has changed,
for the better I'd say...
others may beg to differ;
we season things differently.

True, you no longer have any more spring to your step
but you're not suffering through these Chicago winters
Summers just won't be the same without the baseball games...
but you suffering through life is all that's on my brain...

so fall peacefully, into eternal rest...
and enjoy the season's change.

When You Speak...

When You Speak...

an ear twitches...
intrigue is perked
eyebrows raise
thoughts halt
attention is paid
a life is changed.

When You Speak...

old folks share a chuckle
children dance
men nod in approval
women smile genuine
doors open to hearts
you are invited in.

When You Speak...

people adhere to your verbs
lives are spared
children are born
families unite
people stop fighting
people start writing
Masterpieces are created...
just behind your words.

When You Speak...

the atmosphere changes
life becomes less dangerous
the Earth keeps spinning,
but it has you in mind.

When You Speak, you wield a great power to make positive changes. Imagine the impact if you were to act...

Long Distance...

Long Distance relationships are hard.
The distance between me and her is crazy...
more miles than I care to count on a map.
We talk thru text while both watching our favorite show;
I watch from the comfort of my couch at home;
she tells me she's watching from her bed.

We never talk TV; we discuss 'you and me',
'us' stuff...and how 'we' can solve certain things.
I wonder if she really laughed when she typed it...
I can't hear it so I'm doubtful.
She says she misses me...I don't know though,
if I only had her hug to reassure me...
or a kiss to remind me...

She probably feels the same,
but little does she realize how I suffer
how I use work as an escape to take my mind off
because when I sit at home it works overtime...

Hopefully soon we can be together
this is slow murder to me...
it hurts but not enough to die;
it's driving me crazy like papercuts...
if all of those were placed on my heart,
and salt mixed with alcohol were poured in...
like I said, not enough to die
but at times I wish I were dead.

Show's off...now she's ready to talk
says to call her in a minute and 17 seconds...
a minute sixteen, her name's on the screen
of my phone, while on TV is BET...
As I wait for her to answer I hear our favorite song
drum in my ears, 'Simply Beautiful' penned by Al Green.

And as I daydream about a love far away from here,
her answer brings me back to life...
back to the reality of how we are swimming in love,
but when we are sad it feels more like we're drowning.

Typical convo...neither of us say much...
I can envision her sitting on the bed
laying on her stomach, left arm props her head
right manicured hand on the phone and such...

I get a call from my job, "I'll hit u right back"...
Swear, in my ears I could almost hear
the frustrated closing slam of her flip phone...
Turned the TV off, room is all black...

Get off the line with my boss, call back...
'Simply Beautiful' fills my ears again...
always to the same part before the pickup:
"...and I'd expect a whole lot of love outta you..."

Hurts my heart every time to hear him say that
it's like my Love Trial's a movie and he's the soundtrack
When I call, I hear the phone ring...
...and her ringtone for me...
That reminds me why I shouldn't be calling...

We're in a long distance relationship in the same house
but there are prices to pay when you strike your spouse
the body heals fast, but there's no timetable
for wounds of the heart and the mind
the abused is now the abuser,
and it serves me right.

Mathematics of Love

1 Principle (1)

plus +

2 Believers (2) = 3

plus +

2 Hearts all in (2) = 5

minus -

4 half minds of doubt (4) = 1

good and bad times x

effort for 2 (2) = 2

plus +

nobody's perfect (0) = 2

split by none

equals

you and me, two.

All that's left is all that matters.

Nobody Knows But Me

Humiliation
Loneliness
Self-Doubt
Heart-Break

The endless chain of unattainable love...
whether it's me on the non-giving end,
or chasing after out-of-reach hearts...
It's an seemingly infinite emotional cycle.

I could use that now, to ride away from here...
'love' or a 'cycle'...I'm not choosy, really
Because standing around others makes me lonely,
but being by myself comforts me greatly...
Even in the midst of the quote 'Genius loves company';
There aren't many to qualify being around,
otherwise it would be saying how Genius appreciates it...

I often hate when I think out loud

so then I attempt to reinstate it

only to end up locked out of my own mind

So it appears the insanity I tried to hide,

is prevalent for all far and wide to see...

but no one can recognize it for what it is,

stares it in the face, yet

can't see the forest for the trees.

It might be best that

Nobody knows but me.

the first time (the last time)

I have thought
and dreamed
and imagined
exactly how this would be.

And right now
in this moment
it's here upon me.

I must admit
it's everything
and more
than I ever wished for.

The embraces,
loving words,
adulation,
and attention...
it's almost overwhelming.

But I appreciate being appreciated.

This is the first time
I've ever felt like this.
Might not make sense,
but it warms my cold heart.

It's sad that it must come to this,
that I had to leave to bring you back
to your senses,
to your family,
to me.

As I lie down with closed eyes,
I can see perfectly clear...
that I am surrounded by love.
I just wish
I had the chance
to smile at you,
or the words
to say thank you.

the explanation of the inspiration...

Before anyone gets the wrong idea, Danyelle (the one who inspired the previous posts) isn't an ex-girlfriend of mine or anything like that.
She's my dear friend who was trying to help me with some topics, and took time out to send me a slew of different titles and subjects.
And of the ones she sent, these four jumped out at me and I wrote them well within an hour. Many thanks to you Danyelle!

When It Rains...[inspired by Danyelle]

"When It Rains, it pours."
That's how she explained it to me.
"Matters of the heart are like a confused weather report...
Affection makes the Sun shine like a July afternoon,
That very same sunshine makes my heart rain love.
And when it rains, it pours."

She said "Rain isn't all bad like most people think."
I nodded and agreed silently, eager to hear more.
"You can do things in the rain...
Things you can't do any other time."

I immediately began envisioning puddle splashing,
Attempting to use my own body to cover her head,
Because we were too engulfed in each other...
To even consider bringing an umbrella.

And even though we were braving the elements unprotected,
nothing could have felt better than the rain at the moment.
Pictures of kissing during a downpour in summer,
Flashed through my imagination at a rapid pace...
Images of close embraces and invading each other's spaces.

I sat and thought about how I feel about rain.
Like she said, you can do things in love...
that you can't even imagine during any other time.

I.Love.Rain
I.Love.Love
I.Rain.Love

The Right Time... [inspired by Danyelle]

I should have said goodbye the moment before I met you.
That would have been perfect timing apparently...
Because trying to say it now is proving to be too difficult.

We've agreed that it's imperative we both move on,
Or more so you think so and I have to put up a front
And just nod in agreement to hide my feelings...

Or more so I brought it to you alll matter-of-factly,
And had to witness your tears, listen to you recap your fears
And 'right hand before God' swear off all future dealings...

I wish we woulld've done this earlier...
Before some of the good times that are forever indelibly etched
In that part of my memory bank that I call "The Time of My Life"

I wish we would've done this later...
There's still so much for us to learn from and about each other
So much for us to discover about the world, together...

I can't make up my mind...I don't know why
But I think there's never a right time to say goodbye.
I can't bring myself to say it, So I'll just walk away.

Why Won't You Let Me Be Great? [inspired by Danyelle]

Why won't you let me be great?
There are missions to accomplish
Tasks that need my tending to
Goals to achieve during this lifetime

Yet, you have me sitting...here.
There are so many lives I've yet to affect,
So many stories to share and reflect on
So many dreams to spare from being stepped on

Why can't you just let me be great?
It's not about the fame, but I'm highly capable
The world needs to know me...no,
The world needs to FEEL me.

I am here to care for others
I am here to uplift mothers
I am here to encourage fathers
I am here to teach brothers.

So WHY won't you let me be great?

I can persuade someone to positively change,
Flash a smile her way to brighten her day
Aid him to believe in his own abilities
Show them how to be better listeners to each other.

But yet, here I am...sitting here with you.
In this dimly lit room, with a bunch of reminders
Of past problems and issues,
Of let downs, loneliness and lies.

Just me and you in this room,
A dim light, these reminders,
A chair, and this mirror.
Let me be great.

I Dream In Color [inspired by Danyelle]

City lights blazing, a spectacular type of dullish orange
On the backdrop of a midnight blue evening sky
Smiles flashing bright white, as spirits are high
Races of every kind, intermingling and intertwined
Each sharing love...it's shown all abound
Fluorescent red, like an ideal sports car
There are no dark differences here;
Only faces and eyes that light up like the stars
and of course, a brighter future:
A world of equality and respect,
Where differences make one interesting,
And worthy of meeting and befriending.
I dream in color.

My Glass House

At times I wonder where my life's leading me...
or am I leading my life...or is life defeating me?

Sometimes I feel so worn down,
tugged, dragged & pulled around...
that all I want to do is Sit.Down.
Get out of the eyesight of the public,
the folks I don't and do want to be near
so I don't have to explain myself,
or paint a fake smile over a frown...

Changing Faces like SWV isn't really for me,
don't want TLC when I get sonned by Destiny
seasoned like Salt n Pepper in this tasteless reality...

she made a long-term vow to me...
to never let the world's weight win the bout with me
how I was the best man like at my best friend's wedding
said she'd be by my side...
some real Adam and Eve shit.

But she fucked me up like that trip thru Eden
gave her all she wanted; couldn't get what I needed...
"Bye, my side"...must've left and taken the rib,
because I helped mold her into who she currently is...
or portrays to be apparently, her mask isn't ski;
but still didn't stop the girl from flat-out robbery...

but that's another story for a life full of mis-steps,
bad moves, attitudes, decisions and Disappearing Acts
...at times my life is on some real Wesley Snipes shit.
Mother disowned child without saying the words...
kept her mouth closed but actions speak in stadium sounds
it's so deafening that I can't hear shit else spoken to me...
"I love you"s drop to the wayside like already-known lies,
displays of concern are disavowed like CIA secrets
extended hands are treated like extended fists...
so I duck accordingly.

My own foundation was built upon lies,
so I find it so easy to lie to myself these days...
but it's a paradox of sorts, hard to explain:
I say but know but feel but do differently.
I'm available for people but close my own doors,
close enough to feel, yet remain withdrawn...
open up my heart yet keep it closed off
dependable for most but depend on none
easy for you to trust, but I don't trust one.

I have created the most beautiful glass house it seems,
a wonderment to behold, despite the lack of entry
I'm attempting to work on a door...
but if it's for your entry or my exit is yet to be seen.

I know.

I know that the blog title is spelled "wrong"...I know that "separate" is spelled "s-e-p-a-r-a-t-e". My "spelling" is what makes it "seperate"...get it? Apparently the same folks also red-flagged on Fabolous when he first hit the rap scene...

In other news, new post by the end of the day. Just felt I'd clear up that non-issue.

The Race Card (Ficticious 'humor' - wordpress repost)

This was back when things were way more simple. Think you’re better? Think you make more money, or that your car is better, or that your girl is better? Put up or shut up. We played the Race card…from the cage to the end of the parking lot. Loser gives up whatever was the issue of discussion…title to the car, chain, shoes, girl (”hoe…bring yo ass!” (c) Luda), whatever. It’s retarded to lose your 10,000$ car in a 25 second footrace, but that’s how things were done when we were younger. We didn’t have time for all that fighting and shooting and shit; we were just a bunch of basketball players who loved to have fun. Forwards and centers didn’t say shit….especially when Melo and Marvin where around. Fucking with them? Guaranteed you’re walking home. The guards ran shit….literally.

The race card was a highly reliable weapon against big-shit talkers….all until Luke came along. Luke was new to the neighborhood, and had transferred to play on our basketball team. Apparently, he must’ve heard about our braggadocious ways of playing the Race card, because he came down with the intentions of winning something from someone.

Usual ridderick, typical back and forth banter taking place…then Luke walks into the cage and starts talking shit to any and everyone who would listen.

“You bitches are weak as fuck…garbage ass muthafuckas…”

He had the language down. Those were indeed fighting words. Roy decided to be the one to shut Luke down. Luke had merely moved here two weeks ago, and all folks who knew of him SWORE that was the first time they heard him utter more than two words…usually “Yes, coach.”, in practice.

Roy: “I’m about to shut your goofy ass up, coming here talking all this shit. What you putting up?”

Luke: “You’re not worth putting up SHIT for…but I tell you what; you win, and you’ll never hear me say anything negative to you again. Promise that. Don’t worry about putting up anything, because once it’s over your dignity will line the pockets of my slacks for many years to come…bitch.”

Roy: “Dignity? Playing for pride? Sounds like a scared bitch to me…I don’t give a fuck though. However I can shut you up, I’m for it…”

Luke was already standing near the outer part of the cage at this point, and Roy walked to line up next to him. As Roy turned towards the parking lot, Luke turned to him and said:

“You’re dark and ugly. Worst part is, you’re ugly BECAUSE you’re dark. You look like you smell of alligator-used swamp water…your hair looks like….how did that go? Your hair looks like a brillo pad that my Negro maid would use. Your feet are too big for your body, but they are the same size as your lips and nostrils. You look like Curious George, you should be running with the lions and tigers and bears. Your mom is an alcoholic, a whore, and a bad cook who adds too much salt and hot sauce to everything…all wrapped up into one. Your dad is a lazy mechanic who smokes too much crack in his offtime…..wait….no….that’s your mom’s current boyfriend. We don’t know what your dad looks like, so nevermind. Your mom named you Roy to make it easy on you when filling out the top of Section 8 forms…and because of that…you will NEVER.AMOUNT.TO.SHIT……..Nigger.”

With that, Luke just walked off…going back the direction which he came…blonde hair flowing in the light winds. After that day, we never played the Race Card again…nor did we look at White people the same…we just beat the shit out of Luke everyday after basketball practice. Roy went on to get his skin bleached and team up with some guy named Sigfried. We never heard from him again.

-end-

What I was feeling at the time (wordpress repost)

Insomina’s winning…
it’s been a long time, but it’s only the beginning…
Been awake so long, it hurts to even try to close your eyes…
Been an ape so long, can’t help but show your animal pride…

To the girl who I gave my world 7 years ago-
You’ve carved a nice path of destruction
One that caused for many tears to flow…
Now I divorce myself from love, I only want seduction…

Destroyed my idea of the perfect woman, so heartless
Cut my heart for the world to see, you a doc or an artist?
I’ve recovered, I think, pretty sure I’ve healed just fine
And of all the things I lost, what I miss most is my mind…

Black Tie Affair, my feelings once again on display
placed neatly in a large black box on a special day
In my wake, am I dead or merely dreaming despondent?
But I hardly ever sleep; is what I see my reality?
Visions of the end, I guess it’s only my mind wandering…

The Chase (wordpress repost)

I’m chasing after a man in the street’s night
I feel he’s got answers I need; wrong or right
Might need light…he’s trying to shake me thru dark alleys
ran back twoards a main street, ducked behind a Denali
I slowed pace…put the tool off safety
Heard an old phrase about God protecting fools and babies
The ‘fool’ theory will be put to test today, G-A-T
when cold steel’s to his brain, how will he A-C-T?

I crept closer, on stealth mode, not making a sound
plams sweaty, black Nikes slow-slapping the ground
Took off my hood, a slow smile began to wind
I’m not crazy, but this guy will soon lose his mind

the wet ground shone a fuzzy reflection
shit was distorted like my reality, far from perfection
looked at the window of a Charger and it kinda threw me
for a loop…the man staring back hardly knew me…
But I kept fake-nailing it…decided I had to press on
My heart kept making beats…chest getting it’s Mr. West on…

I see him…crouched down, looking the wrong way for too long
Time to make this hip hop nucca sing a brand new song…
Grabbed him by his collar, went to see the shock on his face
but who I confronted was an image I couldn’t erase
All this time I thought I was pursuing the truth,
I was only chasing ghosts…trying to keep pace with my youth.

The Beauty Of It All (wordpress repost)

Sometimes it’s hard living when you are cognizant of your eventual demise.

Everything around you expires like rebates, spoils like milk…

wilts like flowers and Chamberlain, decomposes like Bach in reverse…

everything fades…loses color, yet ironically we say it dies.



Sometimes it’s difficult living when you are aware of your isolation.

Whether real or imagined, I imagine what appeals is just as real,

as the things we’re disgusted by.

the people we are lusted by…

the people we lust after,

the idols we blindly follow

the cure we chase…

all of the fallacies are a tough pill to swallow.



But even that’s only if you’re looking at the half filled glass upside down,

pour the rest out and let it evaporate into the ground…

and then proclaim that you don’t have shit…can’t see the point in any of it…

but even then, you pay attention long enough and a flower may grow.

I turn my glass over all of the time…but it’s usually into the cups of others…

so when I say that I don’t look at life from a half full perspective,

it’s due to looking at others drink from my benefits.

And that’s the beauty of it all.

CRZY State (wordpress repost)

Standing in a room all alone

yet I’m surrounded by spirits

The silence is turned up,

ironic how I can’t hear it.

I’m forced to face the ugly sides of myself

Distorted and contorted, some faces of fear

maybe I would be more at ease if it were amusement…

but there are no funhouse mirrors;

Everything I see is real here.

I feel a brawl on the horizon brewing

I’m not yet ready to battle my demons…

I see Faces of Death leaning against the wall,

smirks for smiles, acting like they knew.

Envy rocking a green replication,

hating like he’s known to do…

Defiance got his arms crossed,

sneering, refusing to budge…

Selfishness has it’s back turned, concerned about no one…

Typical shit.

Selfless is tapping him on the shoulder,

trying to lend a helping hand…

Arrogance is on some decked out shit…as far as spirits go.

In here looking like a magic cloud, silver lining to his shadow.

But that fool is a midget…baby joker don’t worry me

Self-doubt though?

On some Giant shit that could get me Plaxico Buried.

It gets me every time…aim lower…

I always shoot myself in the foot with worry.

I need to control these demons…but don’t know where to attack…



Fuck it, selfishness gets it first as I remind him how I do for others

He starts to shrink, and I start to feel better before I feel worse…

look over at Selfless, and see his heart is getting too big for his chest…

I give so much sometimes, the shit hurts…I gotta find balance…

Clutching my chest, I turn towards Envy…this shit should be easy…

I’ve got no reason to be jealous of another motherfucker,

because even with my DNA they couldn’t replicate me.

Envy falls flat, but guess who’s getting fat?

Arrogance beats his chest, and Selfishness perk up a bit…

Shit.

I focus in on Self-Doubt, easily the toughest

I declare this world mine for the taking,

I can do anything.

I’m too talented to fail, too Rasheed to not succeed…

we’re Common in species only…that’s where it ends.

Self-Doubt quivers, but Arrogance is peaking…

telling the rest how he’s the shit…figuratively speaking.

I point out flaws in my character, chinks in my armor

acne, only 5′10″, one ear smaller than the other…

not the buffest guy around, don’t make the most change

I drive a Chevy Malibu; stop acting like it’s a Range

Got a bad case of Depression- in fact, I’m surprised he’s not here

probably sitting somewhere in a corner with the light off,

relishing in the darkness of his own sadness…

but anyway, got a case of Depression that leads to Isolation…

how the fuck you walking around here like you’re perfect?

Arrogance sat down…seemingly defeated…

Defiance was still standing, arms folded…a little bit shorter.

I realize that I cannot do everything on my own…

I understand that bull-headedness will only lead me to a Matador

I’ll be thoughtlessly chasing red capes for the rest of my existence.

A one man gang is sure to fall when it comes to team ball…

Defiance drops his arms and comes out of his stance,

and when I turn around, I’m met by Self-Doubt…big as a house.

What the fuck? I’ll be battling these demons for the rest of my life,

it seems I need one to keep the other in check like Congress and Senate…

Guns and Butter shit…Angel/Devil shit…Peace and War…

shit might drive me crazy or put me into an early grave.

Remembering the last two, I look over to the Faces of Death…

same smirks on their faces…they already knew.

Made of the World

From a Rose I was birthed…

in the middle of a storm…

I felt cursed as I got wet…

and trickled down with the rainfall,

and fell into the soil face first.



Mud in my eye, I did not know where I was…

Who I am, what’s my plan and where that I was going.

All I knew is that I was growing…

When I finally stood up, I became a man…

Privy to the ways of a world so clear yet confused.



Look around to see precious life being abused,

love mistreated and clear night skies taken for granted…

Green eyes blackened for things other than jealousy,

Dreamers awaken from their perfect worlds to wonder…

“Where was we?”



We were the Gods creating our own world,

but too wrapped up in advancing creations for appreciation.

I looked down in shame…but then I saw the rose…

and I remembered in an instant the beauty that I live for.

Must Be...

"This must be love."
That's the only explanation my mind can fathom.
the anxiety and frustration
tears and strained voices
clenched fists and stress lines
the migraines and sore spirit?
This must be love.

Fun can be had with anybody,
and fights can be made w/ anyone
but to still want to fight + have fun,
after the laughs pass away
and the smoke + dust clears
is a truly special realization.
This must be love.

But...I wouldn't put love through that,
would love really do that to me?
It's possible...but so is just about anything.
Maybe I was in love with the thought,
moreso than the true definition and meaning.

I've paid the price for what I thought was love...
more times...
than all of my trips to Vegas and bets on games,
heart stolen from my chest, a repeated crime...
only for me to not file a police report,
and eventually catch her on my own...
steal my own shit back, the OJ way...
and hear Love beg and plea to me
how I shouldn't lock my heart in a safe,
how it's safe to leave it out,
no harm will be done, really...
And everytime, I fall for it:
hook, line and lover.

"This must be love."
That's what I tell myself.

*untitled

There was a time where I wanted to be
everything to everyone...save lives & smiles.
Whether going a step or an extra mile,
I was trying to do all that wasn't done for me.

It never dawned or occured under moonlight,
that I wasn't merely extending a hand-out;
I was chasing acceptance that was missing...
the feeling of being wanted, needed, adored
understood + appreciated...not underestimated + ignored
by the most important people in your sight's eye.

Giving others assistance started becoming my dependence
and like with any other drug, the levels increased.
I started to forsake self for the sake of "help"
Fighting a battle that I can't win with life.

Some people have called me an angel...hardly.
It makes me feel awkward; I nervously play it off...
they say that I speak & they can see something;
how close I am to God...& it helps reaffirm their faith.
Truth be told, I don't know what God thinks of me...
whether He's proud of me, or considers my tattoo a mockery.

I haven't been to church in quite some time,
usually only pray when others need me to do so,
hardly ever speak to God because of my thoughts:
"If I didn't call on You when the going was GOOD,
how dare I come to You once things get hard?"

So my faith ducks and hides behind my pride
and I walk this Earth knowing He walks with me,
but it's a silent journey...I often wonder to myself...
"what DOES He think of me? Am I on the right path?"
And as always, I'm just far too proud to ask...

The First Day...

They say the last day of your life
is usually the most normal,
but for obvious reasons,
ends as the worst day of your life.

I beg to differ on the sentiments,
opinions of people I will never meet.
In my own altered and skewed vision,
the beginning of my existence tops all...
reigns supreme as the worst day in my short history.

Unarmed? That isn't the issue...
most people are unarmed for life's combat.
Unaware? DANGEROUS.
The most unprotected mental state and environment...

Perhaps mistaking snakes for tulips
and puddles for vortexes,
misunderstanding one's spoken love language
for verbal curses and Witches' spells,
sprayed bullets are taken
onto the body as cologne mists...

You are molded by hands that
you have no hand in choosing,
watched over by eyes that
you can't seem to read,

influenced by the liquors of that individual's life,
when you don't even know what drunk looks like...
I'm encompassed by Angels and Demons,
trying to make out who's who in a pitchblack room
and everybody's tapping me on the shoulder,
talking at the same time; shouting matches...

Yet you look to me for strength...
to be some type of guiding light...
I'm not going to lie to you,
I don't even know where I'm going...
barely know where I've been

Just figured out this life was a game...
how to win? Furthest thing from my mind.
I wasn't aware of what some call a "3rd eye",
so I'm guessing mine has gone blind.

It's okay to lose faith in me once you see me close my eyes
Sometimes I need a break from this world and my problems
that I don't seem to have the answer to in this crowded room...
But listen to me and take this with you on your journeys...
I only want you to not put faith in the wrong places...
because life is a gap-toothed bitch, and those are some big spaces...

don't focus on the smile, there's much more to be offered
as long as you don't lose sight; treat it like a whore...
I mean, have plenty of fun, but don't fall for her...
because the minute you think this is it,
you'll have the rug pulled from underneath you...
and reality is a hard floor to fall on unexpectedly.

Just brace yourself, it's what life's smile needs...
So the day that you look up and begin to see the beauty,
it'll be due to the necessary work you saw fit to endure.

Dr. Dre Process

He's got a problem, but everyone's dancing on eggshells
Wanting to speak up, but not incur his verbal wrath...
he's got promise and talent...or talent at making promises
"This is the one right here...you're it!"

But they never are...

He drops them and moves on to the next like connecting flights,
or a child with a room full of toys who discovers a new one
and each time, the toy has to be bigger and better...
...in order to keep his euphoric interest, otherwise...
on to the next that can fill the void he has
In trying to find the next best thing...
Lately, he's been trying groups...
adding what he thinks will work...
Yes! This is the one right here...you all are the hit!

...until later on.

People who care about his rep have finally spoken up...
To inform him of the damage he creates with this torrid practice...
"you're playing with lives here, what you do affects others...
it's far more far-reaching than affecting the ones you drop,
faster and faster as if the very label they're on is hot..."

It's to the point where it seems he has a disease...
if he can't pick them up, get hope and drop them, he's hurt
the shakes, out of place...what is one to do?
It's how he starts days & ends them...all with constant flow.
But if he doesn't stop, there will eventually be fatal consequences...
those that were dropped will come back to kill him...true enough.
So now he sees what must be done...and he tries to drop his last one.
The bottle's in the garbage, now starts the Detox.

The Powers-that-Be

The places that I travel when
I forget to remember where I'm going
all gassed up, motor running
but I'm on my feet all day
life needs a replay of the previous
events so I don't lose the lesson
in the sea of my eyeblinks
or when I'm here in my ear drums
somehow couldn't use my tongue
for nothing more than 143s
via text message that I spoke
with a pen placed to the sky
while I listened to how
it might look on a clear day
night sky filled with clouds
Scowled as I cried inside
displayed "mr. nice guy"
for a select few named "all"
it only makes sense to me
to fly once I fall,
to run full speed
the moment I hit the wall
to write only when spoken to,
to listen only when touched
to speak only while reading
to look when music is played

and to feel only when all other means have failed.

These powers are for good, even if I've forgotten how to use them.

In The Recesses of My Mind...(unfinished)

In the recesses of my mind,
class is still taking place
so the hallways are empty
as I walk searching for myself...
in a building with no mirrors.

The sun shines through the windows,
and the lights are off so...
the hall has that surreal
'light at the end of the tunnel' feel...
So why do I feel I'll never escape?
This is a hell of a school building,
where I'm trying to unlearn being a fool
for others as well as for myself.

This is my proving ground so to speak,
how ironic...stuck in a place designed for learning
where I didn't learn shit but how to hide
my real self from others in the light...
now that it's dark, I'm overexposed...
passing rooms used as examples,
friends who suffer more than I do,
smile more than I and appreciate life.

One has a sickness and is determined,
she pushes forth and does good for the world
even if it doesn't realize the need,
even if it doesn't realize her deeds...
I do.
I just want the sun to shine on her long enough,
where her grandkids can ask when her hair first turned grey
on a porch where she's spent half the evening
telling stories of past events and days...

But anyway, to look her in the heart makes me sad,
so I listen elsewhere as I walk down the hall...
I hear wheezing and a wheelchair motor,
the temperature is freezing as I approach...
The closer I get, the more hazy the view...
Tears have filled my eyes as my vision worsens
to see an old friend once heavyset and energetic,
crippled and fragile, a fraction of his former self.
He can't even wipe his own mouth...
but here I STAND and complain about food stuck in my teeth,
that I have been working at for seven minutes to get,
when seven minutes to use his arms would make his day.

Light dims...the skies are grey now...
No more hope at the end, unsure of where to begin.
I see an old picture taped up in the hall
about Donnie's death, now more tears fall...
I feel trapped within these four walls,
with no escape from others' pain
I don't know how to deal,
I'm really missing the rain.

The rain lets me be myself under it's protection,
cry my soul out while I figure out my next step...
but here I am, with no direction, in a hallway with no lights,
the smell of unlearned lessons in unopened books in upopened lockers
running into all my life's ills and concerns...
and I'm worried now...
Not because of what I've dealt with so far,
but because of what's ahead...

I've yet to face my own problems and past
yet to take on mistakes and situations head on
I haven't yet dealt with my little girl not being born.
Don't know how to handle not being wanted by my Mother,
handled the same way she handled my older brother...
Can't face my Father for looking me square in the eye
and verbally passing off his life's largest lie.
I know the truth, as I've always known...
For all of the genius that is recognized by them,
why do they treat me as if I'm colorblind?
as if I can't make out what the signs are...
So I stopped once I began to see Red.
I couldn't do it anymore; I almost wanted to see them dead.
See, respect is a two way street in my eyes,
and they walked to cut across the grass...
as if my 'respect' and theirs would never meet.