Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Do It

Ever have your heart skip a beat?

"Do It"

Do it
Take me under your spell
Prove it
That you want me as well
As I want you too
Do it
Just like at the start
Like friends
The other will be in their heart

Do it
To you
If you'll do it too
Prove it
My soul's feelings are true
That you
Could do it
How ever you wanted to
Remain here in my heart
Where the loving will never part

Do it
Already again to my mind
Can't explain
Arising with short the time
I've known
Stared into those eyes
To have you is worth the try
Do it...


Not sure where this one came from. It started out one way and turned into something different, which is quite typical of me...


Shit me
Cut me
Over fuck me
Assumptions that I could love you
Hold me close
Erase my tears
That you could love me
Is the bitter fear

Spank me
Wank me
Under pay me
Assumptions I don't know my worth
As you chide me
Thank me
Push me out your door
That I could love me
Is the bitter fear

Tat me
Pierce me
Assumptions I am pure
Born a being
Die a boy
Live as man
Seek to destroy
That I could rule thee
Is the bitter fear

Assumptions I'm the same
Dark features
Curly hair
That I'm a black man
Is the bitter fear

Walk me
Run me
Chase me
Assumptions I'll just go away
Into corner liquor stores
Cigarette ads
Welfare agencies
Or maybe football fields
B-ball domes
The ever-present hip-hop video
Assumptions same
That you could be right
Is my bitter fear...

Monday, September 21, 2009


I was going through my journals when I came across this one. Not an old one, but it amazes me sometimes when it comes to the stuff I forget about. I read it remembering that I never considered it finished, and found much to my surprise that it seemed to be fine just as it was... you be the judge!


It feels empty
Yet ghost of the past
Years and then days

Strain and squeals
Old with the new
It's fourteen with two
Leaving their mark
On these pages written
Forgotten otherwise
In the contrasting shades
Of the underground.

Then twenty-three faces
Unknown with the lights
Passing at thirty;
Work maybe home
The obligatory look
From number sixteen
Contrasting shade.

Now it's nineteen
Yet I focus to one
His pale eye
A story unsung
Between his graying beard
Hardened face
Going unnoticed
I forget twenty through four.

Despite the faces that past
It feels empty
With stops
One to the last...


This is an old piece. Circa 2007. With the way the weather has been lately, I found this the perfect time to finally put this piece to digital format. As always, enjoy...


I stop to see
The changing trees
A chill so plush
It welcomes me
Into the fall
Death of it all
And I am just all
Transported back
Beyond the need
To simpler times
To making moves
To upright stand
Out amongst the crowds
Going about;
I smell the blaze
Rustling near
Finding it queer
That shades could steer me
Deep to thought
Of colors strong;
A gold embrace
Of summers gone
The red rebellion
To a winter long
The saffron acceptance
Of a changing scene
The timber brown
As nature sleeps
A sullen gray
For the clouds that weep
Crystalline tears
I'll let melt upon my tongue
As I try to catch them
Like my dreams that run
Attempt escape from me
Just as easy my breath;

I stop to be one with time
Staring around
At the fine canvas
That becomes our lives
Listening to the notes
Our footfalls produce
In the infinite consciousness
That becomes
The sheet music of our hearts;
A stranger to myself
Waiting for the quiet of winter
So I may explore
Without judgment
Surroundings I'm not privy to
Because when the world is naked
It is the best time to see
As it attempts to hide it's shame
Beneath blankets of snow
That only melt away
As the harshness of reality goes on
And God seeks to forgive us;

I stop
Connecting with the universe
In a single moment
As a leaf falls to my feet
The cycle of all things
In such a simplistic scene;
I stop
Going on again
Looking to perfection
And the understanding
That it only exist
In the acceptance
That nothing is
Ever was
Or shall be
But that the beauty
Is what I see
Out of the corner of my eye
That hurried vision
As colors blur
Leaves fall
Scents come
Quiet calls
Leaving all...

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Simple Songs

I'd really love to write a simple song
But it never works that way
Not with colors
The way they won't bend

Should I tell my children
It'll be alright?
Knowing full well
No amount of hope
Or pennies in a well
Will make it right

I'd really love to write a simple song
But I'm at a loss
Because functionally
Equality and reality just don't mix

It's enough to make you go round and round
Up and down
Simple songs
How now they escape man

Wish we could just
Collect ourselves
Slow down
Diminish the needs
Hum a simple melody
That way words could come
Rainbows could bend
Somehow momentarily
Unbinding the world
Of all it's greed
So everybody can sing
And I can listen in the joy they bring
Wrapped around me
A coat of love
Round and round
Knowing this is where I belong
Lost in the lines
Of simple songs...

Carousel Of Being

When was the last time
Was simple?
I was on a tune
Light as a breeze
I thought
Aren't I lucky
To have actually had a childhood
To run and play
Without distraction
And the harsh realities of adulthood
Upon my feet
In my eyes;
I look at children today
And somehow
They're older
No more wiser than I was
But far older in their youth
It's like
A young Michael singing
'People Make The World Go Round'
Pain and heart beyond one's years
Except the notes are seen
None-the-less beautiful
Bringing tears
Because it's dangerous
To know the world too soon;
But I can't help to wonder
With their eyes around me
Was I the same as a child?
In someone else' eyes?
Is it just a carousel?
Round and round
As I'm standing there
Beyond and ticket-less

Monday, September 14, 2009

Bitter Certainty?

What's to be the truth?
Heaven or hell?
If it's all left up to you
Should I be
As you should with me
Tired of man's fantasies
Tired of his dreams
Spawning all that brings to ruin
Among his beautiful possibilities...

What's to be the lie
That you're feeding me
As to why should we
Follow blind through and through
Without asking things
About what you do?
Tired of the dream
Tired of the lies
Tried of getting by
In your fantasy
While trying to make some room
For my own dreams
If it's all left up to you
Should I be
As you should with me

If I left it up to you
Would I be
Part of reality?
If I had to save a few
What then
Would be your point-of-view?
That's the trouble with the dream
Too much is left
Up to questioning
And a human being
Who walks the line
Claiming mortal
While ruling as divine
In a fantasy
That does not include
Who we truly are
But what we want of we
Our beautiful

So what's to be the truth?

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Quarreling With Myself

This poem is for Akili who turned me on to a W.B. Yates quote that I couldn't get out of my head..

"Quarreling With Myself"

I got into an argument with myself
Thinking about yesterday
And trying to answer tomorrow;
I brought up a few good points
Only to have me rebuke
In a selfish attempt
To protect the fantasies
I bound in and out of
To avoid too much damage from the world
Before long
There was so much yelling
My head began to swell
Capillaries burst
And my soul began to drip
Swiftly with purpose;
As I couldn't let my essence drift away
I captured it
Held it lovingly in my hands
Where it remained until there was quiet
I picked up a pen releasing the flow
Moving past the rhetoric
Into the songs
That became of my screams
Understanding truths
Giving presence to my dreams...

Friday, September 11, 2009

Too Late Tonight For Glory

Contemplating stories
I'm awake too late tonight
Longing for the blanket
Of death that waits in sleep
Listening for the glories
That I can only dream
As I contemplate the stories
To tell my soul's undoing

The simplest of pleasures
Always out of reach
Longing for a time when
I can truly sleep
I'm awake too late
Far too many times
Contemplating worries
Their nightmares to descend
To tell my soul's undoing
In this time and space I'm in

My waist is getting weary
From the imbalance I digest
My soles they beg to rest
As I contemplate the stories
I'll dream in sleep tonight
Or is it early morning?
I can't tell underneath these lights
Waiting for descent
As the madness slips and stays
And nothing I type makes sense.

Too late tonight for glory...


Could longing be the greatest aphrodisiac?


Come and tell me you love me
Get me high
Come and touch me
Tell me you want me
Make it right
Bring me flowers
Bring me your rain
Bring me sunshine
Let me know your pain
Come and tell me you love me
Touch me
Kiss me
And get me high

Don't you play me
Just stroke me
Make it right
Bring me heaven
Let me know you'll stay
Through the nightfall
To the start of day
As you kiss me
Slip away
And make me high

Come and tell me you love me
Get me high
Come and show me
You want we
Make this right
Bring me your soul
Your honesty
And I'll give you everything you please
Bring me passion
I'll give you joy
Come and breathe me
Free me
And let's get high...


Dedicated to the curious...


She told me
I didn't have to be that way
That it saddened her
To lose the qualities which lay within
Guilt rose within a part of me
The part old
Tucked away
But loved to the point
You can't bare to dispose of it;
It rose
Because despite my level of acceptance
There are still dreams
I dare to dream
Which slip away with each newly lit candle
Into a darkness I've never understood
Along trails of smoke
Fashioned from singed barrels
Aimed into nothingness
The pungent smell of futility
Lingering in my rooms
Saturating my clothes
emanating from my very being
In her eyes
Making me want to crawl back to the womb
Deny procreation
Because choice never bestowed
Brings about Agony
Each time
In sadness away explain
My complicated existence;
Shooting blanks
I take aim again...

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Remote Access

Though spawned of a moment, I do believe this piece also has something to do with a brief conversation my sister and I had the other day. I think it started when I said to her, " know me, I've always talked better to myself than anyone else."

"Remote Access"

This morning while waiting on the train
I suddenly wished
That I'd grown up in New York;
I watched the students
Book-bags in tow
Watched turnstiles
Heard those clickity-clicks
As each new soul was admitted
And the platform filled
I saw different colors
And though I appreciate
Much of my youth
It dawned on me
The universal theme
To my state-of-mind
I wished I'd grown up in New York
Because here
There's escape
I could turn my head in any direction
With the inevitable joy
Of the knowledge
That I'm bound to see someone like
That's it
Not the shows
Not the parks
Tall buildings
Or convenient subway
Just the fact I could be
Without feeling alone
Lonely in a belief
That I would never look into knowing eyes
Shared story
Be accepted just because
Is the New York state-of-mind...

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Broken Scream

No sooner spoken
Promises volley me
Escape seems a fleeting dream
Always on the cusp of shattering
leaving me spoken
Like records and fragile things
I collect to collect
Dust of my insipid dreams

Knew someone who gave it all away
Trekked the terra night and day
No sooner spoken
He continued on
His adventure spawning wings unsung;
Yearning to be that way
I get lost in the shattering
As debris blankets all the things
I collect to collect
Dust of my vivid springs
Hiding under my skin
The curls of my hair
Behind the lenses I wear
No sooner broken
In order for me to truly see
I am no sooner spoken
Before broken
As a whisper from a scream...

Monday, September 7, 2009


Being alone and being lonely are two VERY different things...


I'd really like to know
I'd really like to be whole
But most times I just go

I'd really like to see
I'd really like to be complete
But lovin' it aint free
So I'll go

Like the stars within the sky
You know you can't see truth
Until it's night

I'd really like to say
My heart has found a home to lay
But life it aint that way
So I'll go

I'd really like to hold
Someone other than my pillow
To fall asleep for dreams
Of things the way they've never been
Lips to kiss and touch
Eyes to know this much
That I'd rather be within
Than go

Like the stars hanging high
To see their glow
You must wait till night
Maybe this you already know
But no one ever really wants to go

Thursday, September 3, 2009

About 8:40

Inspired by true events...

"About 8:40"

About 8:40
I'll arrive a little bloated
From conversations and a diet
That seesaws between healthy
And American
I'll sit for a moment
On the edge of the futon
How to avoid the landlord
Without having to stoop
To telling him how our entire first floor
Is shit
Avoid him
Just so the ten dollars I have left
Which should've gone to him
Can go towards accompanying
The month-old catfish of tonight's dinner.

About 8:40
I'll strip
At first my clothes
Then my thoughts
Exposing the naked truths
That I am not so bad off
Either way
All the while
Hunched over in creation
Of a new piece of my soul
Dispersed about
To keep me from talking to myself...
Too much.

About 8:40
The music will start within my mind
At first
A slow
Methodical drip
Echoing its way into a symphony
I'll conduct in the shower
As I lather
With the steady stream
Momentarily washing away
The dirt

About 8:40
I'll split again
Lie to myself a little
How is it the oddity of me continues?
Ducking in and out of shadows
From my landlord and existence
Just to breathe
Get a little more bloated
In my attempt to balloon
Just enough
To float away free
Into 8:41
Into eternity...


I think that God does indeed have a sick sense of humor...


Times I sit
Wonder why
Get caught up
That I'm denied
The eyes they wear
To see the world

Wonder why
Within my head
I must be black
For words to tread
Wonder why
It takes denied
For me to feel it's right

It's true that I
In sorrow play
It's true in blue
I do awake
But cursed am I
To be this way

Times I sit
Wonder why
Cloudy sky
Makes me high
Why I love
When there's only pain

Wonder why
Despite my tries
To play this game
It's true that I
Too many nights
End up the same
Buried in my misery
Pages deep
No sooner free
Yet it feels so right

It's true I cry
But they don't see
Wish that I
Could feel the dream
Just out of reach
I always seem
The way my mind makes it right

I've tried to love
Tried to hate
I've tried to fit
But not one bit
Ever last the night
Out of touch
And out of place
From finish to start
I run the race
That's when it feels so right...

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Who What Where When & How

Who was it
That forgot to tell me everything?
The What's
How to achieve them
Where they were located
That despite my ultimate desires
Some of them I would never posses
Because the world's favorite obsessions
Segregation and profit
Ultimately deem so
Even when it smiles
Offering the lie
"You can be all that you want to be"
Allow me to finish that...
"For a price"...

So now
I spend my time trying to figure out
To circumvent the obvious delusional potholes
Placed about this journey to me
The ultimate center
In which I must live
All the while compromising
For the world about me
With it's when's and where's
What and who's
Tantalizing just beyond my reach...