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.