Friday, December 31, 2010

random realization 2985720

ever since i could remember, my friends have loved coming to my house.  they would be at the crib for hours on end kickin it with the fam, eatin up the food, usin folk bathrooms, sleepin in beds, eatin porridge & thangs.  and for a long time i didn't bother to understand why.  as i've gotten older though i've realized that my family is lowkey good people.  & i didn't really grasp that until i read what my best friend left in my yearbook our senior year of high school-- she said she always loved comin over because here she knew what a real family felt like... you never really appreciate what you have until someone else appreciates it for you...
my parents have been married for 22 years this year. they kept me and my bros in church for as long as i can remember & i can literally count on one hand the times i've heard them seriously cutthroat argue. i thank God for them but it's another story entirely for others to see the God in your home & be so drawn towards it.
& it's another thing on top of that for friends to claim & love your parents just by virtue of knowing YOU. do you see the GOD in that??? i'm not a preacher but i know there's something in the bible that says somethin to the effect of live your life so that men can see your good works & glorify your father in heaven.... or somethin lol anywho, apparently i've lived my life in a manner that makes people want to be involved with my family also. kinda like how we're supposed to live our lives in a way that makes people want to be involved with the God we serve. hmm.
i want to be like my parents in that i want my apt or wherever i choose to live or whatever space i inhabit to be a place of peace-- a place of rest where people come & lay burdens down.  last sunday my bishop preached on the beatitude that says blessed are the peacemakers yadda yadda yadda. as Christians we're called to be peacemakers & so i consider it a great honor that my friends feel at home when they're in mine and/ or my family's company. when i grow up i want to be like them.  i want people to feel weightless when they're with me only because of the God in me.
i'm not good at writing stuff that's not poetry as you can tell lol so in conclusion... God is Love,
Rev Run

Thursday, December 30, 2010

me & codename soule's duet piece

a friend of mine asked me to hop on a piece he had already written & so here's what i came up with #OkGo!

I love him, I love him not
I love him, I love him not
I love him… just too much
At this point there just aren’t enough seed head dandelion wishes for us to keep playing this love game/ we’ve prolonged the inevitable in waiting for the last seed to suicide leap its way headstrong into the wind & all we can do now is hope that it lands in the fertile flesh of hearts younger & more impressionable than either of our of own/ I hate that we’re giving up.../ but I try to keep in mind that if we’re lucky, love is cyclical, see i too have learned a lot from the seasons/ learned that seedtime & harvest rarely ever coincide & the last thing I want is for us to reap the regret & strife we’ve unintentionally sown into each other’s lives/ harvest time calls for a collection of long matured decisions pummeled by the rains & beaten by sun, buried in grounds tilled to perfection until they prove themselves  ready to be submitted to God/ so before we make this sacrifice unworthily, let us cleanse ourselves of all unrighteousness/ before we step into the holy of holies let us first petition to God for the forgiveness of our transgressions one to another—I am sorry I couldn’t be the woman you thought I was/  & I’m sorry I couldn’t love you for you & that through no fault of our own, we built a rickety US out of a lowercase N & a backwards Z/ things just weren’t the way they seemed/ but here we are watching the leaves fall as our love threatens to imitate them & take us out just as easily as we fell into it/ but gravity is not my God/ & I’m a little more aerodynamic than you are so I wave this blood red poem on this little white napkin in the air, part parachute, part surrender/ not to you/ not to the tyrant that is our love/ but to God/ ...I know we fight a lot/ but you can’t fight someone that’s  not willing to go toe to toe with you in the first place; I know I’ve dealt you low blows/ but as your rib, those were just my own futile attempts at self-mutilation-- I never meant to pierce your heart- I just wanted to be as close to you as possible/ so I’m sorry our efforts were misunderstood/ sorry seasons change just as quickly as the weather/ sorry I wasn’t a big enough blip on your Doppler radar for you to chase after me just one last time/ I still love you/ & though there were red flags & warnings all along the way, I can honestly say, I did not see this storm coming

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

the burden of words unsaid

The burden of words unsaid is often ignored/ as a writer, I’ve become accustomed to the conception, the gestation & the sometimes gut wrenching labor that comes with the birthing of a poem/ many a time I’ve felt the initial excitement that comes with the inception of an idea/ the growth & discomfort in carrying a message & the painful satisfaction that is sacrificing what was once a part of me to the mercy of this world is an overwhelming profusion of emotion that, as of late, I have become all too familiar with/ I can tell you about birthing complications, when recessive syntax & cadence errors manifest themselves in a premature poem & even of the great lamentation that comes when a poem is stillborn & must be abandoned/ or the miscarrying of words that occurs when I just can’t seem to mean what I say & say what I mean/ I’m a writer/... I can tell you/ …About writing/ about holding a newborn poem, fresh, unedited swaddled in loose leaf/ but I cannot tell you the burden  of an unwed mother/ I do not know what goes on in her mind with one child on her lap, another steady growing inside of her womb/ she can barely support one, refuses to give away the other who for 9 months will be her inverted appendage, she avails herself to 2 options only/ keep him so that he can grow an inkling of resentment for every thing she cannot give him, relive a childhood empty of promise vicariously through this unborn son/ no, she says…/  I’ll just give this one back to God/ … & you talk about sibling rivalry… / I cannot explain the gaping black hole left by an aborted child/the tears of a mother trapped between the poverty of a rock & the poverty of a hard place/ I cannot tell you of unborn martyrs, of sisters sacrificed for the lives of their brothers, of baby boys given back to God with a receipt for all the firsts they never got/ I don’t know anything about the strained relationship between a mother & father that can’t help but see the child that never was in the face of the child that got a chance to be/ I cannot describe the pain in a man’s pride when he can only give one of everything in the world / I cannot tell you why the son you always wanted will never get a chance to see the sun or why daddy’s little girl will never meet her other half /why a little rain ruins the best of plans & bad things happen to good ppl/ ... I cannot tell you how this sacrifice feels…/ I can only equate it to a god asking his son to give his life for this lucky bastard of a world/ but I digress/… I know nothing of a mother’s last words to that little ball of cells unfortunate enough to be born second/ I am fortunate in that I am amateur enough to know nothing of the strength it takes to make such a decision/  & in no way am I drawing a parallel between aborting a poem & aborting a child/… I was just kinda thinking that considering the number of children born into poverty each year, maybe a responsible woman ought to have a choice as to whether or not she wants to add to said numbers… / all I’m saying is… they’re not all dime store whores flying by the seat of their g strings/ I was just kinda thinkin that the next time you wanna throw blood at the clinic you might wanna consider the one who abandoned his 33 year old son so that heathens like us could have a chance at everything we ever wanted/ because when has sacrifice ever been fair?/... I in no way condone death/ but I do support conscious minds & well thought out decisions/ …because nobody ever talks about the burden of words unsaid/ but I got a good 646 that say it’s time to start.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Random Realization #934798

"sometimes when God wants to protect you, He removes someone; and when He wants to bless you, He sends someone..."

a friend of mine gave me that word a few days ago.  this quote pertains to so much more than i initially gave it credit for.  i kinda been marinating on it on & off since then, picking it apart, conceptualizing it... 2011 is upon us & i can't help but think back to years passed. 

specifically it opened my eyes to an old relationship that has recently become relevant again.  an ex of mine had been heavy on my mind for the last month or so maybe.  he was that first love kinda kid.  the one where afterwards, you swear up & down you can stay friends. but you can't. at least not right away. in the nearly two years it's been we 've made a few attempts to be friends between the two of  us, to no avail.  each time we were trying to fake a growth & a maturity that wasn't there, trying to force ourselves to be at a place to which we had not yet arrived.  i texted him merry christmas saturday.  he opted to call back & we talked for hours.  & it was easy.  didn't feel forced or out of obligation, no longer felt premature in our efforts.  it was easy.  the day we broke up a friend told me straight up, "yo it's over.  & if it's meant to come back around, then it will."  & if the relationship aspect of it does come back then i'm down.  but i must say i'm quite content with this simple restoration of friendship.  you never know how important good ppl are until you feel/ fill the hole they left.  & i didn't know that this closure was what i needed until it happened, didn't know i was missing anything until it came.  whatever's supposed to happen between us, i will be patient.  i will trust God.  i refuse to try & make anything happen on my own.  what God has for me is for me & i refuse to try & manipulate His plan.

in a more general sense, it helped me see that 2009 was a year of removal & of letting go & of protection while 2010 was a year of sending in, of introductions & entrances.  '09 was by far thee hardest year God has seen me through.  matter fact, we'll talk about 2009 in depth in another post one day lol long story short, God separated me from some people that i swear i couldn't live without-- 2 in particular.  one was my best friend at the time, the other was my man friend at the time.  i can see now that both of these "breakups" were to protect me though at the time i was sure it was the end of the world.  i see now that the man & i had to split quite possibly to protect each other.  after catching up with him the other day i see that our lives were similar in that we went through alot of the same things while we were apart. we both went through very raw and painful growing stages that i know for a fact would have killed us had we stayed together.  & sometimes that's the way growth is.  everybody wants to be grown but nobody wants to actually grow because it hurts.  & as immature as it is, hurt people hurt people.  lesson learned.  notice i didn't divulge into particulars about the ex best friend lol that's for another day.
2010 though... that's another story entirely.  please believe it was not without its ups & downs, hell & high water, trials & tribulations.  but i was surrounded with amazing people to sustain me.  this year He sent me peacemakers, He sent me manifestations of His love & His favor that i would not have survived the year without.  2010 fully embodied the second half of that quote & since they know who they are & i've been alll the mushy about them before in this very bloggy blog, i'll bow out gracefully before i get in too deep :) #pause

the same friend that gave me that good word up there also told me that a time of restoration may be upon some of us right now.  & i truly thank God for it should that word pertain to me.  whatever He decides to do in this season, i would hate for Him to do it without me.  so God i'm down.  for whatever.  i won't strive against You.  whatever You got going down in 2011, take me with You.  please.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

10 Things I Wanna Say to the Next Dude That Claims to Love Me

1.  It’s impossible to love me.
2.    I kinda have a problem with commitment/ but it’s not that I’m unfaithful or anything/ it’s just that people who have promised to hold me forever never really meant it so by virtue of experience & muscle memory, I physically just don’t get it/ for example/ the only things I’ve ever committed all four fingers and one thumb to is holding my first love’s hand, groping this mic stand, & gripping a pen/ &, as you can see, the one that mattered to me most didn’t stick around as long as I would have liked so, as far as MY hands are concerned, you’ll have to excuse them/ the concept of forever was never an easy one for them OR me to grasp
3.    Baby im a thug/ I don’t smile much, half the time they say im muggin and you’ll probably never ever see me shed a tear/ or maybe, I just keep my smile behind my eyes because people hate to see you happy these days/ or maybe, my eye’s don’t cry no more because God made my heart a well  to hold the rain, an elixir to ease other’s pain/ so at times I may seem stolid or depressed but I think that if NOLA’s levees were more like me, Katrina woulda been just another rain storm instead of the devastating flood that it was
4.    I have the most amazing sisters/ we were made friends by divine incident, sisters by holy convocation and so at any given time I may drop everything, including you, to tend to them/ but know that it doesn’t mean I love you less, it’s just that blood is thicker than water and im anemic so I’d rather be warm/ wait, what?/ look ima just put it this way—I got three brothers. For 20 years, it’s been me and them boys! And recently God saw fit to give me four sisters/ so you’ll have to excuse me, but we’ve got some catching up to do.
5.    I love my god more than I will EVER love you/ you will NEVER be the most important thing in my life/ so I ain’t really tryna hear all that “baby if you love me you’ll do this that and the other” because my father loves me unconditionally and seeing as how I did nothing to deserve his love and there’s nothing I can do to make him take it away, you can actually move around with that there—my love is not a barter system to be negotiated
6.  Sometimes I think it was not meant for me to love.  but i do still.  with reckless abandon i love just to spite the universe because defiance is the strongest motivation so i love to prove that i am capable.  prove that i have a broken vessel human heart & not an energizer ironman apparatus, not indestructible but rather made for destruction-- it loves like helicopter blades fighting through arctic blizzards.  like an iditarod race because winning is not synonymous with survival, winning is not coming out on top. winning is loving like your heart is made of cinderblock instead of paper mache, like it's a porcelain doll instead of a pinata, like love is holy matrimony worship between mother nature & father God not a lonely, pleading prayer in the garden of gethsemene.  not a cross to bear—some say love is pain/ but with me, it doesn’t have to be
7.    I did some time in Chicago but I am STILL country as I wanna be/ I race barefoot in the street/ I play tackle football with my brothers and their friends/ I pop sparklers in the front yard on the fourth of july/ I eat neckbones and ox tails and collard greens and cornbread and I put butter and sugar on my white race and I’m willing to bet I can probably eat more than you/ but know that your smallish stomach doesn’t make you any less of a man
8.      i am a daredevil lover. not an evil kanieval stuntman catapulting out of cannons through rings of fire… no/ my heart loves like an aging indian man treading barefoot over hot coals slowly & deliberately like debussy's 'claire de lune' on a baby grand-- a perfectly pitched premature piano solo accompanied by no one... i give my heart straight-- no chaser.  because eventually, the risk it takes to remain closed tightly in a bud begins to outweigh the risk it takes to bloom and so sometimes my heart is just a sacrifice my love is all too willing to make
9.     I want to be the one god appoints to watch over you in your sleep, when you are most vulnerable/let me be your dream catcher/ let me hold your hidden passions, your ignored desires and should you ever forget what they taste like I will feed them to you little by little until you are full with purpose/ let me become your rib again/ let me protect your heart from all that wishes it harm/ allow me to wrap my arms around you/ let me be your backbone, your spinal cord even/ let the steady bass of my esperanza spalding heart keep you, drown out all that seeks to paralyze you/ baby dance with me instead/ and we will sway to these sad songs together/ the drunken dance of the depressed and the downtrodden/ and though disparity and displacement be our muse from time to time, I will not let them take you under/ I will hold on for dear life, for your life/ and I promise, I will not let your heart break
It is impossible to love me/ 10. It is impossible to love me… 3rd times the charm/ 10. It is impossible for you to love me/ as much as I already love you 

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

no sleep tonight: part two


the hardest part about having a music box heart is deciding which melodies to play/ i long to hold 16 gigs and play every weeping willow ballad ever written, every riff and run of travailing prayer in your garden of gethsemene/ when you asked God to take the pain away, to remove this cup from your hands, i heard you/ and, if i could, i would take every cup from you/ take them back like shots of hard liquor, if it meant it would keep you from stumbling through this life in a drunken stupor of struggle/ let me be your drinking buddy/ i will match you shot for shot, treble clefts & half notes of sorrow until my heart is just as full, if not, overflowing-- i was created for this/ with this ironman music box heart, let me hold your muse/ we were made friends by divine incident, sisters by holy convocation-- it was not meant for you to be alone/ this piece was not meant to be a solo but an ensemble/ so let me accompany you/ and, because i'm selfish, i will steal the show, snatch the mic from your hand in a drunken rage and no one will notice when you leave the stage free/ i will let them crucify me/ so when your heart comes near to bursting and your weeping willow ballads begin to crescendo, allow me to wrap my arms around you/ let the steady bass of my esperanza spalding heart keep you, drown out all that seeks to paralyze you/ and we will sway to these sad songs together/ the drunken dance of the depressed and downtrodden/ and though disparity and displacement be our muse, i will not let them take you under/ i will hold on for dear life, for your life/ and i promise, i will not let your heart break.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

no sleep tonight

i flip through old photos of us/ and i realize that, yes, the poetess was right-- sometimes love ends just like this-- in 2 dimensions/ so i comb through our skeletal remains/ polaroids of past passion/ we are frozen in memory of ourselves, the you and i that was us at one time/ captured smiles & constricted muscle solidified under ash/ it was not the eruption that killed us, not the lava that burned us-- it was the debris & the secondhand smoke that constricted our airways/ and so here we lay/ freezeframe tricked into being genuinely happy because this midas touch we had sounded like such a good idea until your heart turned to gold, no longer malleable by the warmth in my palms-- baby you turned cold/ and so i turned around/ in hopes that you would maybe come back to life if you thought i wasn't looking/ but one swift about face later, she had you standing at attention and i haven't felt at ease since then/ i love you/ but only because my heart loves you, only because my spirit longs for you, because our souls, they match/ & so i just do what these things tell me because love itself is incapable of reciprocity & unlike violence & racism & war, there is no justice or peace in love/ no piece outside of the ruins of what was our pompeii/ the mighty has fallen/ & the mighty was me, & me only/ a king mourning his metallic daughter/ an emperor bathing in the remnants of a dead city/ i have melted what was left of you & formed it into a locket/ &, yes, i make pilgrimages to our mt. vesuvius from time to time/ but if this sounds like a heartbroken lovesick take me back piece, just know that my heart is far from it/ this piece is just my periodic hero worship eucharist in remembrance of the one that taught me to love in the first place/ i in no way regret you & sometimes i may even miss you/ but i'm tired of this brian mcknight internal longing for what once was, on some "do i ever cross your mind anytime" bullshii-- miss me with that, "i will no longer audition for your attention"/ so when you come back to look at our photos, i won't be there/ see baby, i found my pulse in my womanhood, heard myself smile until i could not see & while you were turned around not looking, i came back to life again.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Open Letter to the Current Residents of 6203

*except for yall heaux asshh lil baby sheep dawg
OR "Popsicle Thug Love: installment two, End of Year Reflections: part one"!!!

so of course, me being the OD thinker that i am, this whole popsicle thugfest we had talked about has been on my mind a lot lately as i consider people's roles in my life & learn to separate the leaves from the roots & whatnot. & so consequently i've been thinking about you guys. #pause, #word to jerrid for preaching that in HV the other day. when he told us to stop & think about having another year of life, i immediately thought of you guys.  because this time last year, someone i was sooo sure was a root in my life, proved that she was indeed a leaf.  around this time last year i was learning a whirlwind of lessons, none of which felt particularly good-- i was learning how to be alone without being lonely because little did i know, God would soon break me from people that i wasn't aware weren't good for me.  #sidenote-- spiritual and emotional growth can be THE absolute most painful growing pain ever in life lol anywho tho, he opened my eyes to sooo many things that everybody saw but me. but i digress.  the biggest change between november 10, 2009 and november 10, 2010 is a change of scenery and surroundings.  & that's where you harTlets come in.  so fastforward to me writing poems about yall individually & thangs & God gave me the idea to address yall as a household first because of what just being in the place where you all dwell has done for me... because literally, 6203 has become a place of refuge for me.  & i doubt you will ever understand the caliber of people you are & thus the type of environment you've created, not because your mind can't grasp it, but because i can't put into words what yall have done for me in the short time since we started kickin it heavy this summer.  but, you people have called on me to try. & so, here goes:

metaphorically, 6203 is my sanctuary and our friendship is my religion.  literally, the freedom i have there and the fact that any burden i may carry is nonexistent after i cross that threshold has been my salvation this semester. a lot of ppl get caught up in religion-- in services, masses, rituals, traditions-- so much so that they lose sight of the fact that all God wants is a relationship.  with that being said, i literally feel closer to God when i'm with you all-- his most important commandment is to love & i have experienced nothing short of an outpouring of God's love through yall every time i'm in that house.  when school and work and organizations and relationships and the weight of being a poet alone got too heavy for me, i found refuge in 6203.  i'm taking 17 hours, working two jobs [I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE THISSSS!!!], puttin in work for a couple organizations, tryna figure out wth ima do with my life and who i'm gonna get to do it with-- that's a full plate lol but i literally feel weightless in yalls house.  i know that there was many a time when there were things i woulda coulda probably shoulda been doin while i was kickin it with yall but... i could not miss the therapy and the relaxation in arguing and jumping around and effin shii up and cussin out yall lil baby sheep and... etc. etc. lol. my point is, in 6203 i felt more at home than i have ever felt in the 2 & a half years i've been on this campus & for that i cannot thank you enough.  you all taught me that you don't have to play with the first kid that invites you to the sandbox, that if ever there was a time to be selective about who you choose to surround yourself with, college IS that place because people WILL assume things & lump you in with whoever you claim your friends to be.  and for the first time, in a long time, i'm proud and humbled to be associated with BLACK WOMEN at baylor university.  because heauxs can be so so so sooo triflin these days-- this we all know, so sadly this thing we have with each other is looked at as a miracle, as a feat of epic proportions as if we weren't created to love so yes, i am proud.  proud to have succeeded in this-- or rather grateful and blessed that God has allowed me to be apart of something so... rare these days.  he thought enough of me to surround me with women whose reputations do indeed precede them, his favor is amazing; the fact that he would give me you all to personify HIS love, to make that ish real to me??? it's crazy yo. so yes, i AM friends with dede, i AM friends with coco, i AM friends with muhfuggin mojo jojo! ... i don't consider myself to be friends  with a lot of people.  to me being a friend entails something much deeper than this kindergarten bull these kids at this school tryna pass off these days.  so in an effort to be more specific we say family and that's who yall be.  i effs wit  a lot of people who think they know me, think i like them, think we friends but yall know good and well i hate everyone.  most people i come in contact with on a daily basis i can actually live without. and of course that's no fault of their own, i'm just very low maintenance.  it don't take all day to realize sunshine & i don't need all of everybody in my eye tryna make me feel important and gas me up.  plus when you have too many friends, they be havin birthdays, they want gifts fuh holidays & shiii, ain't nobody got time for awwllllat! but i digress again lol i have my team, my squad. everybody else are just subs.  & we all know subs ain't never good as first string. so thank you.  for letting me see the heart of God in your eyes, hear His voice in your smiles and feel his love for me in your unique hospitality; i could not have made it had you all not let God use you as vessels for his work.

so this is for MY colored girls.  who have ever questioned God's love-- His intentions, His directions, His presence-- but are realizing that His love... and Their love... is just. too. real. 

Sunday, October 31, 2010

love is for thugs-- #PopsicleThugLove 101 #ClassIsInSession

before we even start, the original title for this was: 
"ramblings about love:  why i love my friends & hate everyone else on some eff them other nigglets cuz... well, you know the rest- type ish."
but as you can see i changed it lol

so a good friend of mine told me she loved me today.  ok well actually it was yesterday seeing as how it's runnin up on 5 a.m. now but anywho-- like out of nowhere she just hit me wit that 1-4-3 & for a brief moment in the taco bell line, we talked about love [cuz we'ont pass out in drive thru lines when it comes to grubbin round here!] ... what it is, &  what it isn't, etc... & of course me being the OD thinker that i am, i really haven't been able to get the concept of love out of my mind/ out of my heart, since then... & so here i am with this random amalgamation of love ramblings in these here wee hours of sunday morning :)


black people do not love each other enough.  black WOMEN do not love each other enough.  we instinctively hate each other initially as a way to protect and validate ourselves when we were created to love.  but thus is the de-evolution of the black woman and consequently black love altogether because socialization has changed our very nature to one that no longer nurtures.  we are catty, we are evil, we are guarded. but when we love each other i swear it's the most beautiful thing.  but between harsh words & side eye glances, many of us will never see this love. 


luckily, i have.  i have witnessed a love like an eternal electric current, an infinite transfer of energy unlike most friendships i've been in since i've been in college.  this relationship i have with my current team... is not one of constant sacrifice & trial, of constant taking without reciprocity.  this love we have loves like a circular definition, it loves redundantly, like synonyms, like burning kinetic energy.  it loves like it's never been hurt.  & truthfully, without those contrasting contrary "friendships" i don't know that i would be able to appreciate the ones that i have now as much as i do.  these people that i have are FAMILY.  so yes, cliches get played out, but only because they're true-- everything does happen for a reason & yes seemingly good things do fall apart so that better things can come together...


... & clearly i suck at trying to convey thoughts & feelings in a straight up nonpoetic way these days so maybe this will help understand how i love the ones i love & what it really means for me to do this:
  
first, a quote from the aforementioned love conversation-- 
"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. 
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; 
so I love you because I know no other way than this..."
[[Pablo Neruda]]
hmm... selah... pause & reflect. 

& now for my own words:
"i don't love often or easily.  but when i do, i mortal kombat rip my heart from my chest inscribed with a suicide note of my own fingerprints & offer it to you to consume like tribes in 3rd world countries so that maybe you can taste the courage it took me to do so in the first place.  i offer it beating feverishly out of its element, at the altar of your finicky affections in hopes that maybe mercy would be granted just this once & my sacrifice not be made in vain..." 


"maybe it was not meant for me to love.  but i do still.  with reckless abandon i love just to spite the universe because defiance is the strongest motivation so i love to prove that i am capable.  prove that i have a broken vessel human heart & not an energizer ironman apparatus, not indestructible but rather made for destruction-- it loves like helicopter blades fighting through arctic blizzards.  like an iditarod race because winning is not synonymous with survival, winning is not coming out on top. winning is loving like your heart is made of cinderblock instead of paper mache, like it's a porcelain doll instead of a pinata, like love is holy matrimony worship between mother nature & father God not a lonely, pleading prayer in the garden of gethsemene.  not a cross to bear-- i love like an elixir... like a balm in Gilead... "


"i am a daredevil lover. not an evil kanieval stuntman catapulting out of cannons through rings of fire, my heart loves like an aging indian man treading barefoot over hot coals slowly & deliberately like debussy's 'claire de lune' on a baby grand-- a perfectly pitched premature piano solo accompanied by no one... i give my heart straight-- no chaser.  because eventually, the risk it takes to remain closed tightly in a bud begins to outweigh the risk it takes to bloom..." #wordup to miss keys-beatz


#ToBeContinued.  sensual seduction for anyone who guessed that those chunks will most definitely be part of a poem one of these days.  but i digress. 


anywho.  i love because it's the only way i could think of to show my appreciation for all that is done for me and in me.  i don't have money, i'm not the cutest, i'm not the coolest.  i don't have status or accolades.  but i love like my heart IS an energizer ironman apparatus.  i love like i am invincible.  i love like the shirt off my back is yours.  like whenever you call me i WILL be there, no cliche.  like i'll carry your cross when its splinters rub your shoulders raw.  i do not love by understanding or logic or because our lives make sense together.  i love by being present.  because, for me, love is time.  is marathon conversations about money, sex, God & all of the below.  is catching the itis & napping together.  is running through apt complexes snatching up spare tires & goodie bags.  love is government sponsored debauchery by night, fried bologna sammiches by day.  & the fact that i just sung "oscar mayer has a way" to spell b o l o g n a lol love is attention deficit disorders & nothing is wrong with us.  love is knowing that heauxs ain't people cuz #wordup to Aristotle.  
love is not knowing how to properly close out a blog & deciding to just tell you that ima go get some cereal cuz the sun gone be up soon.  so in conclusionary type ways, love is hoping this makes your day :)
#DickSlangPOW! #PuddittInyaMouf

Thursday, August 26, 2010

30 minute poem i wrote for the homie cuz he messed up w/ his girl :(

ok so BACKDROP-- i wrote this literally just now in like... a half hour maybe--  a friend of mine messed up with his girl & wanted to give her something to show that he was sincerely sorry & so that's where i came in so! p.s. it's clearly from a man's  point of view fyi. 
30 minute freestyle-- #POW!

They say love goes both ways but—I’ve never really been good at crossing streets/  I mean I completely understand why chickens be so indecisive when crossing the road cuz there’s a real big difference between giving & reciprocity/ & maybe I’m just a little overwhelmed at this velocity/ with which we careen towards each other/ & sometimes I may slip & treat you just like any other/ but the fact that I’m apologizing hopefully shows that I could never find another lover/ sweeter than you/ & for that reason alone I promise to be sweeter to you/ I’m a man—we make mistakes but I refuse to make excuses/ & no matter what it takes I know that we can make it through this/ cuz all & all the truth is/ I’m done with the games/ & I try to avoid storms but for you, I’d walk through rain if it would mean that I could still claim you as mine/ & so tonight I wanna stop on a dime & repair whatever is broken in you & take responsibility/ because this wedge that I drove between us unintentionally is actually killing me so right now I apologize to you with every ounce of strength in me.

ASA poem version TWO-- performed at Mosaic Mixer

So you fancy huh??? You, you go to Baylor & you pay awwwlllat money & ya got ya live bears right across the street & you think you something huh kid???

Well newsflash baby, you ain’t NEHHTHIN in comparison to what ya ancestors did

See you traded THEIR chains for YOUR chains & have the nerve to thing the game dun changed
#YallAinthearinMe--
You traded THEIR chains for [[wrist]] YOUR chains & have the nerve to think you dun changed the whole entire game
Oh you fancy now-- but wait…

Hanging from a tree does not make you a monkey-- did you get that???

No matter whether or not you choose to behave like it, you are always and forever royalty.
It only lies dormant, sleeping under your skin
like volcanoes waiting to erupt with destructive new life, hibernating like sleeping bears waiting to roar again
Yes under YOUR skin—all shades of brown and ahh yesss its most precious hue! the rich plum brown, or chocolate some of us like to call it J -- resembling the deep velvet purple robes you used to wear
See, young sir, you are not dark as midnight blacks & blues, you are not a bruise—you’re a raisin in the sun… a dream deferred… & we are just waiting for you to explode like #static #defibrillator
CLEAR! #StartPulse

#PAUSE! Have you ever noticed Africa’s shaped kinda like a... broken heart?

#PLAY! See it used to pump strong & powerful the pulse of this world until yall got all sadity & otherworldly & forgot where you came from & so now your heads & your hearts are always conflicted, throwing off your equilibriums/ see you got a foot in the door & one leg in the grave, & in your hearts you’re still enslaved & so every time it beats, the blood of your ancestors flows up to your brain in an effort to resurrect ancient memories

I use photos as flash cards to stimulate your occipital lobe so that maybe I can trigger something bigger in you/ something bigger THAN you/ baby things aren’t always what they seem/ you live double lives see—slavery in the streets but kings & queens live in your dreams!
you are more than corner boys & baby mamas/ your women were once queens & your men were once fathers/ and so that pain in your chest & that ache in your heart is for us/ So that maybe you can remember us/ so that maybe you can remember YOU/  

For example--#FunFact--  we women are bottom heavy for a reason-- we carry the weight of the world in our wombs…

#PAUSE! Now hold your finger there & flip over to Africa. Picture it. Garden of eden, 2010 years ago ehh give or take a few & #POW! This continent births the world’s first man & woman… & now the weight of the world rests in her womb—

& like Haiti, she lies in wait for the return of her prodigal sons & daughters but we’re too busy doin our dirt like a horse led to the pond that refuses to drink the water & so we remain unconsciously thirsty because our subconscious knows what our hearts are too stubborn to believe like this cliché bling don’t make you a king just like lace fronts & weaves don’t make you a queen like there’s a reason we have such an affinity for the finer things & like wisdom i stand in the market places & scream! For you. & my heart bleeds! For you.

 & so I wrote this poem in hopes of starting a rumor in your hippocampus & maybe he’ll whisper a lil sumn sumn to ya parietal lobe that maybe navigates you back to me where you belong

but from the blank stare in your eyes I’m thinkin maybe I was wrong but… that’s okay…
because that dull ache of a displaced ancestry never really goes away…
& since from dust you came, it’s where you’re headed anyway I promise to GOD we WILL be reunited again, in this life or the next, some day.

Friday, August 20, 2010

ASA poem-- ORIGINAL/ ROUGH DRAFT VERSION

ok so this is the ORIGINAL as the title implies lol but i had to make it shorter to fit in ASA's time slot so i chopped & screwed it to make version DOS which is the note before this. but i really wanna combine the two-- with this beginning, same middle & ending of the other one.

WELCOME TO AFRICA—LAND OF THE KINGS SAFARI TOUR!   WE HAVE ZEBRAS, WILDEBEAST, GIRAFFES, TIMON & PUMBAA & LOTS & LOTS OF [[MONKEYS]]!—*GASP! SHH… LOOK! OVA HE-UH WE HAVE A MAMA LIONESS & HUH BABY CUBS RESTING IN THE SHADE J
hmm… is THIS what they really think of us???
Safari tours & loin cloths & aye aye aye aye aye #ShootsTranquilizer…
When did we demote ourselves from kings & queens to monkey court jesters??? when did we trade Ankara & native…  for baggy slacks and burlap sacks, our native tongue for these broken obscenities, our homes & our families for the things of this world… see
We traded chains for chains & have the nerve to thing the game dun changed
#YallAinthearinMe--
We traded chains for [[wrist]] chains & have the nerve to think the game dun changed but wait…
Hanging from a tree does not make you a monkey [anymore than eating a banana makes you a nigga] do yall hear me???
No matter whether or not we chose to behave like it, we are always and forever royalty.
It only lies dormant, sleeping under our skin
like volcanoes waiting to erupt with destructive new life, hibernating like sleeping bears waiting to roar again
Yes under OUR skin—all shades of brown and ahh yesss its most precious hue! the rich plum brown, or chocolate some of us like to call it J -- resembling the deep velvet purple robes we used to wear
See, young sir, you are not dark as midnight blacks & blues, you are not a bruise—you’re a raisin in the sun… a dream deferred… & we are just waiting for you to explode like #static #defibrillator
CLEAR! #StartPulse
#PAUSE! Have you ever noticed Africa’s shaped kinda like a... broken heart?
See it used to pump strong & powerful the pulse of this world until we got all sadity & otherworldly & forgot where we came from & so now our heads & our hearts are always conflicted, throwing off our equilibriums/ we got a foot in the door & one leg in the grave, & in our hearts we are still enslaved & so every time it beats, the blood of our ancestors flows up to our brains in an effort to resurrect ancient memories
I use photos as flash cards to stimulate your occipital lobe so that maybe I can trigger something bigger in you/ something bigger THAN you/ baby things aren’t always what they seem/ we live double lives see—slavery in the streets but kings & queens live in our dreams!
See we are more than corner boys & baby mamas/ our women were once queens & our men were once fathers/ and so that pain in your chest & that ache in your heart is for us/ So that maybe you can remember us/ so that maybe you can remember YOU/  
For example--#FunFact--  we women are bottom heavy for a reason-- we carry the weight of the world in our wombs…
#PAUSE! Now hold your finger there & flip over to Africa. Picture it. Garden of eden, 2010 years ago ehh give or take a few & #POW! This continent births the world’s first man & woman… & now the weight of the world rests in her womb—
& like Haiti, she lies in wait for the return of her prodigal sons & daughters but we’re too busy doin our dirt like a horse led to the pond that refuses to drink the water & so we remain unconsciously thirsty because our subconscious knows what our hearts are too stubborn to believe like this cliché bling don’t make you a king just like lace fronts & weaves don’t make you a queen like there’s a reason we have such an affinity for the finer things & like wisdom & stand in the market places & scream! For you. & my heart bleeds! For you.
 & so I wrote this poem in hopes of starting a rumor in your hippocampus & maybe he’ll whisper a lil sumn sumn to ya parietal lobe that maybe navigates you back to me where you belong

So who am i?
Well they make me out to be some poverty stricken continent forsaken by God but, right now…
I’m just the ache of ancestry in your temporal lobe…
Trying to re-invigorate the pride of a displaced people in your heart…
Is that alriiight?/// or & I guess that’s the start #kanyeshrug
[[idk which to end it with just yet]]

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

i'm a auntie guys!!! :)

ok so basically like sunday which was... june 11, 2010-- my best friend since we was 12 had her beautiful gorgeous baby boy named anthony dre'mond carter & so ever since then i been soooo baby struck or whatever you wanna call it.  i just been real super gushy like with all things concerning life & love & mistakes & blessings &... but i digress.  i'm just sooo in love with my new nephew yall like he's the shiiiii by default ya feel me.  he got nothin but greatness all up & thru him.  he was 7 lbs 2 oz i believe & 19 inches long, not too tall but he got quick lil legs  like his mommy so i know he's gonna be a hurdler just like we were back in the day :)
#sigh... it just makes me see my bestie in a whole other light ya know? like...
they say havin a baby doesn't make you a man but... after 8 years of bestFriendship & 9 months of watching her carry little anthony, i finally saw her as a mother when she held that baby boy. & here i go rambling again but dag! i'm just proud of my best friend & the wonderful mother she is & will continue to be <3

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

July Second-- a chopped & screwed "sijo"

this here is the second poem in the July series.
p.s. a sijo is actually a 3 lined poem where each line varies between 14-16 syllables but in english, sijos usually run at 6 lines. either way i breaks rules suckuh. stop frontin- it's nehhthin lol #dontjudgeme

so i met this boy.

heartbeat like thunder, eyes like lightning & the color of morning rain

--he's the perfect storm

his smile harnesses my breath like strong winds

& i just want to stand in the eye of our tornado


p.p.s. i'm mos def gonna continue this one, i #lowkey like where it's going :P

Monday, July 5, 2010

poems under construction...

1. Aiyana Jones-- google her
2. "do not ask of those who constantly take from you..."
3. My Next Boyfriend or Dear Future Boyfriend
4. Fractional Love
5. AdDICKted-- about a girl looking for love in all the wrong places...
6. Land of the Kings
7. Sam's poem-- physical manifestations of emotional needs...
8. Just Like His Father
9. Poem for Anthony, My Future Nephew <3 -- he'll be here any day now :)

L-BOOGIE COMEBACK!!!

ok so anybody that knows me knows that i'm on lauryn hill's balls somethin MAJOR.  & i don't give a ffffffffffff lol like i just really got mad love for that girl slash grown woman, defend her to the death & err'thang lol but on some real ish, she has to be literally one of THEEE greatest artists of all time, dispute me if you want-- she was and still is the realest female to ever do it: she spits AND she sings for one. and not just sings, she #SANGS bro. and she don't just spit, she actually HAS SOMETHING TO SAY. everytime i listen to that girl, i hear something relevant to my life & that's saying something phenomenal seeing as how she ain't put nothing out in a good decade & some change
the miseducation of lauryn hill was the first cd i ever bought with my own money. that's how epic that shiii is and not a day goes by that i regret that purchase. i can still to this day listen to that whole album from start to finish, not skip a track and know dang near every word. this chick is my favorite artist. ever. with one solo album to her name. & that's how you know you bad. who else mastered vocals & lyricism, her words strangle my heart & her voice just straight breaks that heaux-- you can't get no better than that. and she does it all with TRUTH. she ain't BS'in NOTHIN bro... nothing. i mean people say she's crazy, she's bipolar, blah blah blah BS BS BS, & im thinkin wtf does it matter? she spits/sangs truth every time she grabs the mic, idgaf what kinda condition she has. yeah cuz we're all completely sane & ain't never had a issue a day in our lives... 


see that's why i effs wit people like her. and my other auntie erykah badu. and my cousin janelle monae. i kick it wit the weird kids man, #NoShame whatsoever... i been tryna tell yall i been crazy since forever anyways. we had lost it waaay before it was cool homie, you betta #WRECKANIZE!


and oh p.s. the whole reason i felt the need to speak on her in this here post is because i heard tell she talmbout gettin back in the studio. NPR got a interview where she talks about being #excited and whatnot about recording again... i almost peed when i heard that, i ain't even gon front kids. & i will purchase that heaux, no questions asked.


God is Love, Rev Run :)

Friday, July 2, 2010

o m g guys we finna roll uo to this open mic spot in downtown and they talmbout throwin a heffa on stage! eeek!
Hmm. let's test this here mobile blogging right quick. 1... 2... testing 1... 2...

late night philosophizing with the homies :)

God knows what you need when you need it. He's so strategic with the people he places in your life... it's ridiculous... I mean I shouldn't be so... amazed because He does stuff like this all the time. But it truly is amazing the seasons He brings you through just to get you to the next checkpoint in life. He brings you through periods of solitude so that you can learn to be alone without being lonely & through it all still trust in Him & Him only. #check. He brings you through periods where the people you call "friends" drain you & leech off of you & mistake your kindness for weakness only to bring you to people who take care of you & appreciate you & with whom you are equally yolked and/or growing in Him. #check.

I just finished having a conversation with two of my closest friends. We talked for hours. And the truths we shared left me feeling so... refreshed! Like I'm literally still sitting here going through all of it in my head & I'm just inserting those gold nugget tidbits into places in my life that were lacking before tonight. I don't even have words for this post, I just knew I needed to scribble something down just so I could have a chance at sleep tonight slash this morning...

We shared a transparency with each other that I can say is truly lacking just... on this planet period. the Realness is gone, the role of being each other's keeper is gone in this world today. In life, we as people go through a lot of so called "friends". So many people slide through our lives who are #disposable-- people who are ACCESSORIES rather than NECESSITIES. People that make you look a little better but the outfit is still just fine without them... wow lol idk if y'all caught that revelation??? Courtney Streat, I love you kid. Really & truly. But I digress lol somewhere along the way we stopped "keeping" each other. See at this point in life anyone that doesn't uplift you is a deadweight liability. All I need is my ride or die keepers and that's it. No offense intended but I need people to look out for me, to keep me in check, to have marathon discussions with me about everything under the sun, to give me the genuine, Godly opinions and truths that I need. And at the same time I need them to allow me to let my hair down, let me laugh, let me act stupid & be goofy & just be myself, uncensored & unbridled. I need relationships that resemble two way streets in that there is a constant exchange between us of love, of give and take, of intellect, of conversation, of thoughts & opinions, of questions & answers.

Ok so I'm rambling lol but I said all this to say two things: we as people, especially black people/ minorities need to go back to keeping each other. We don't love each other anymore and so we don't realize that in fighting each other we're only defeating ourselves. I need intellectual heart to heart dialogue to replace an exchange of bullets & slurs & insult & obscenities. I need truth wrapped in love to replace these lies wrapped in facades, I need us to go back to the day when keeping it real actually meant keeping it real.
And the second reason I wrote this is to reiterate that I truly have found a group of keepers-- genuine necessities in my life that keep me grounded and sane in the midst of this new fakeness epidemic we're so quick to call real. And for these people, I am grateful to God because people like this are not easily found. In fact, I'm convinced that they cannot really be "found", that we must let God place them in our lives in their due season because "even the right thing at the wrong time can by default end up being the wrong thing." Seasons come and go for different reasons and for this one I am truly thankful. So all I can do is bask in this season & glean all that I can so that, should this particular season ever end, I will have nothing but gratitude & thanksgiving towards God for loaning me these priceless gifts. I feel the need to keep the gifts He gives me in the best condition that I can because I never know when they'll be taken from me. And there's nothing more disrespectful than purposely not taking care of somebody else's things. #UhUnh! #RUDE!

#sidnote: this Eric Benet is sooo on it tonight. His voice can most definitely have my children. #thatisall

#shoutout tiiiime!!! I would like to send my utmost hatred to Sam & Courtney for keeping me up this late knowing that they are my muses & that once words are in me, I cannot sleep until they are berthed from me. You heauxs knew such things & then yall did what yall did anyways! So from now on, BOHFUH yall just shut up talkin me so I can friggin go to sleep!

#truth :: I love, yeah I said it! LOVE you guys & I will do all I can to #keep you. As long as yall keep frontin that yall actually like me, that's really all I need :) I would most definitely take a bullet grazing for either of you any day :)

the video for July First

Thursday, July 1, 2010

i been having a lot of weird dreams lately... about people in my past that i've had to cut ties with. but in these dreams, we're just as close as we once were. so obviously questions arise... why am i dreaming of restored relationships when i've already settled myself with the thought things can never be as they once were. & i actually like it that way, i like progress, i like change, i like when things get better, i like when hindsight shows me where i've been & how bad it was for me in comparison to the advancements of now... i mean i guess these dreams could mean something... or they could mean nothing at all... i mean at the end of the day, it was all a dream...

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

#OldStuff :: Untitled [[7.21.09]]

take off your shoes, for the place where you stand is holy ground
right here at this altar where i kneel before the pen & paper the very gates of hell are opened up & i am forced to come face to face with my many demons
the skeletons in my closet
the ghosts of my past are here with me as i confess my sins
sins of loving too hard
of giving too much
of forsaking myself for others
i present them to you here on this paper
wet with the tears of great lamentation
stained with the scarlet red of re-opened wounds
this paper reaks with the stench of the sweat of my labor
i write these sins, these tragedies in order to free myself
free myself to live again
free myself to love again
free myself to smile in your face one more time
until the pain becomes too great to bear and i am forced to return to this sanctuary
sacrifice these thoughts in exchange for forgiveness
wipe my tears and dry my eyes so that i can free myself to smile in your face just one more time
i do not write for your enjoyment, entertainment or your amusement
i am not "sharing"
i am confessing
pleading guilty
repenting
seeking atonement for the indulgences of my heart i once again kneel at this altar where only God can judge me
& as i lay my crimes of passion before him
i humbly ask
"forgive me father, for my heart has a heart of its own"

#OldStuff :: The Things She Carries

[[pray for forgiveness >> alicia keys]]

it was her first time
she knew that because of this, it might take awhile to get it right
& yes, it would hurt
but it would all be worth it
that's what she told herself
see, the weight was becoming unbearable
&, of course, it would only be this once
just this once
that's what she promised herself...

"she" is not a victim of bulimia nervosa
she's not a skinny white girl standing over a toilet trying to decide which finger to use

"she"...
is me
a girl who holds so much in
paper in one hand, pen in the other, she is buckling under the pressure of words unsaid
dragging daily under the weight of thoughts confined to her mind

she's been binging all this time but she can't hold it in any longer
she is full of stupid mistakes, heartbroken apologies & fearful confessions
once hidden in the unconscious recesses of her mind, they now force themselves into her chest
the acid burns her throat as potential words threaten to manifest themselves, dancing across her tongue...

but as much as she would love to confess, to apologize, to be free
she can't
she swallows hard, forcing the thoughts to return to the depths from which they came

maybe it's pride that won't allow her to express her emotions thus making her vulnerable, revealing her "true identity"
or maybe it's fear that her words will fall on deaf ears unwilling to hear her heart beyond her stammering syllables
or maybe she doesn't understand how ppl could respect her in her weakness...
support her in spite of her failures...
love her because of her flaws...

whatever the case
she continues to hold all these things inside
right next to the other things she'd rather not acknowldge:
regrets, fears, unrequited love
adjacent to things she holds for others:
secrets, burdens, promises

for these are the things she carries
the weight of which, she thinks, makes her strong

but unbeknownst to her, or rather, hidden under all these things
is the knowledge that one day
she will have no choice
but to purge her heart of the mistakes, the apologies, the confessions
the fears, the regrets, the unrequited loves
the secrets, the burdens, & promises

one day she wil have no choice but to put down the things she carries

*It's not the burdens of everyday that drive men mad. It is the regret of yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves that rob us of today.


#OldStuff :: Contradictory Expectations

dear great expectations,
dear maker of boxes,
dear you who are irrelevant,
I am not the person you think I am…
But then again, I never claimed to be…
I never claimed to be perfect or well rounded or all put together
I never claimed that I had it all figured out
I never claimed to know wth I’m doing
No, these were all assumptions assigned to me by you
You who are irrelevant, you who smile in my face but behind my back it’s a different story, you who assume self perfection while expecting failure from all the rest
You.
This is the box you put me in; you expect so much &, simultaneously, so little
You.
Your life is life’s greatest contradiction
You put me on this pedestal only big enough for one foot to stand on & watch me struggle to stay within these four walls
These four shrinking walls attempt to contain my greatness, to limit my happiness, to abort my dreams before my heart has a chance to birth them
These four transparent walls attempt to make me inhuman, immortal, unforgivable, indefatigable…
but that’s cool…
prepare to be disappointed.
because truth is I’m tired, I’m dying, & I’m far from immaculate
These are all assumptions
Assumptions that my smile means that I am “happy”
Assumptions that a dry eye means a healthy heart
Assumptions that the S on my chest means that I am super woman…
Truth:
I don’t fit in
I don’t belong
This S on my chest is for Survivor
See even when im compressed & upset & distressed
I still strap up that vest before each & every test
Oh yes… I’m a survivor
I am the one thing that is not like the others…
& that’s totally okay with me.
So you who are irrelevant, “perfect”, hypocritical, “chosen”, you who are contradictory to life itself,
...I imagine that it takes more effort to be someone you are not?
Just remember that the box you’re so comfortable in was only made for one.
So if you find yourself getting angry or upset or disappointed with the things that I do or the life that I live, remember…
That I never claimed to be any of those things you assigned to me anyway
So, in conclusion:
I think that if I am doomed to be miserable either way, I’d rather be miserable just being me.

#OldStuff :: Window Seat

http://loveisntenough.com/2010/04/05/a-five-year-old-reviews-erykah-badus-window-seat-video/

she was shot "because she was
naked
& cool
& free…"

she was
assassinated...
"because she was
naked
& cool
& free..."

one day i hope to be as transparent as she
as in what you get is exactly what you see
as in i ain't worried about yall cuz i'm busy bein me
but
for now
take me as i am is my only plea

for now i move slowly through this purgatory
halfway between that which is opaque & that which is translucent
see unfortunately i'm still slightly bound by these
these layers
this costume
this mask,
it not only covers my face
but also my mind's eye:
you don't know me & i don't know the she that me is either
and so i'm slowly starting to pull off these layers of hypocrisy
this costume of impurity
this mask that resembles everyone else but me
as i move towards my transparency
locate my identity
cease committing this perjury
i long to be naked
&
cool
&
free...
but see...
i know no sooner than i remove this costume
life as i know it will end
& i just don't think i'm ready to die
i just really can't afford to be different
to stand out
i mean a square peg can't fit through a round hole & i need to fit in with the rest of y'all
because i know all deviants lose their lives...
so i guess it's either die to myself
or die as myself...
accept conformity
or accept my exile...
sacrifice all...
or be a sacrifice...
decisions decisions...
so i guess until i make my decision
i'll just stay in line
stay in uniform
straighten my mask
turn myself
off...
because
i need you to want me
i need your direction
i need your attention...
so tell me what you want from me
because being
naked
& cool
& free
is overrated anyways

#OldStuff :: Untitled [[5.7.10]]

I remember when I loved you
I remember when the sun refused to rise until the sound of your good morning woke the light behind my eyes
& it was easy…
easy like that song that says that Sunday mornings are easy
easy like these metaphors & similes make understanding easy
easy like… like rocket science easy
it was easy…
as easy as trying to pass a three cord rope through the eye of a needle easy
see
you were the moon before 1969 & no matter how carefully I aimed to please you, I always landed among the peasant stars or in the never ending black hole of your unwarranted anger
… & that shuttle never missed its destination
& so many times I was stuck in this here space station trying to decipher the longitudes & latitudes of where exactly I went wrong because according to your navigations, the logistical errors made were never your own.
I was both the navigator AND the driver, knees on the wheel, map fully unfolded spread across the dash thinking that love was our destination when it was merely the journey in between our together departure and our separate arrival.
… I guess not everyone is privy to the knowledge of things to come
… they say in a relationship: he who cares the least has the most control and so, here I was thinking that I was in command when all along you were in the captain’s chair withholding from me the coordinates of our final destination
you
domestic terrorist
you
homicide bomber
you said that it was killing you too but why I am I looking at one lone corpse when I swear there was supposed to be two?!?
… I mean really…
what kind of girl do you take me for?
You hole your heart up in this emergency capsule ever ready to eject itself from the situation should it appear too good to be true but for me baby you were my truth
& maybe just thinking you know the truth will set you free because I could have sworn you loved me & at one point that assumption was all I needed to remain on cloud nine
but I guess… ignorance is bliss
because real truth hits heavy handed like a brass knuckled bloodied up fist
& I’d say I’m pretty light skinned cause I can’t handle too much more truth before others start to see that I am becoming
a bag lady
knapsacks and backpacks and bookbags full of your heavy handed brass knuckled bloodied up
truth
& I am tired of bearing the weight
of a useless
irrelevant
unrequited love
so I sit
easing slowly into this empty bus seat
& I reminisce of better days
when love was new
& I remember when I loved you
when the sun refused to rise until the sound of your good morning woke the light behind my eyes
… & it was easy