what you see is what you get - short and sweet

sometimes i fancy myself a politician on the hill stomping for the people's rights
making the laws tighter on those who abuse the elderly and small children and lighter on young people who simply don't have the influences to keep them driven for the best for themselves
and well
other times i envision myself as a wealthy entrepreneur who owns several successful restaurants, clubs, and hotels,
all modern but with traditional lines and warm color palettes
attracting a diverse clientele who
like me
are into comfort and class in the same breath
most days i am the perennial do-gooder
focusing my time and energies on those much needier than i
always remembering that my own struggles are not comparable to many others and taking that as drive to promote change one person and a time
praying that i make the world ahead just a little bit warmer and safer than mine

regardless of anything i always see myself busy
never stagnate
always moving
always changing
developing into someone bigger, better, stronger, wiser
someone publishing a different stamp on society with each wind of proactive energy that arises.

love deconstructed

i want to laugh but i can't sometimes at the things that you say or do that completely complex me and
frustrate me about the way we are and aren't and i sometimes want to discuss them but i am told that i am full of too much discussing and that you would rather do without all of the fussing but
if i bury that fussing it doesn't make it go away
nor does it make it feel okay it just puts a pretty band-aid on a potentially infected wound but
without the proper attention there is no real way to know how harmful the original blow-in-question was
surface or ...?
and your brand of humor is so different from mine that i spend lots of time adapting to and understanding the difference between when you are serious and when you are joking but the truth is that i still am often left in the dark here
and there are times when things you say really hurt badly but in fear of being labeled a nag i stay silent because to speak is to be thought the fool
at least here
and then there are the times when i am made to feel selfish or not thoughful
like i don't do enough or think of you enough or anything enough
and i want to pull my hair out with frustration because i know that i feel the same way sometimes
i feel those same things sometimes but if i say them i am mean and if you say them then they are another thing to add to the list of reasons why i am not a good...
good...
partner in this partnership which ought to be 50/50 any way you decide to split it and that is how you illustrate that you are impeccably committed but when things feel one-sided it's hard to know that anyone has really tried
i just want us to be successful but i continue to struggle to figure out what that means and
eerily enough i feel like the end result of all of this is what will make us the strongest that the world has ever seen but
i just want that time to be soon because i need that push of hope
that glimmer of glory to sometimes wake up smiling the next morning
to remember that you are here in this like me
i eat, sleep, think, and work for us
everyminute of everyday of everyweek
and yet my integrity is called into question with the stealth checking of my personals to see what i am saying to the next one about this or that and
the land of questioning that always lies in between
but you see my public and my personal now
you've read all there is to read but i haven't
i still wonder about all of the private world that exists for you
and while temptation exists to invade what is your own i stand firm to not because i can only hope that you will one day feel the same for mine
what's crazy is that i still think of you as this divine intervention sent to me in my life at the perfect time and in the perfect place but with normal imperfections that make us us and unique
what's crazy is that i still cling to the fantasy of what i know we can be
and what keeps me sane is falling asleep next to your love
one night at a time.

"boss_has_landed" (dedication)

despite what i

let transpire

i am not some lame for hire

some
replicated replica of an original ass muthafucker who deserves the respect you give to another
friend, family member, or even lover

come down off that insensitive bullshit and let yourself stick with a winner who suffers losses and climbs back up the ladder for repositioning
i'm done wishing for treatment i've earned.

i'm exhausted from racking my brain to figure out why i get the short end of the stick from you but
truth dot from this spot to the next

i will do my best to question myself a little less
as I've been
giving until i can't give anymore for as long as i can remember and i
care for others the way i would hope them to do the same and
maybe that's what makes you view me as soft and lame but
He knows me different
and for every ounce of dirt thrown on my feet i grow more gritty
more wise
more immune to your misappropriated discontent

Because you made me.

though i will never let you change the few things about me on which my seldom self esteem relies
in His eyes i am forgiven for my profanity because He knows I'm angry
in His eyes he loves my speech

because it admits my faults against my commitment to the world in which i live
and in His heart
He knows i'm boss
increasingly aware of the things i must do in order to survive the flood of blows from those i know, love, and trust but to whom i am

constant, easy prey
shred with unlevel logic
less emotions
less for the faint at heart.

"jim negro"

black man, black man

majestic beautiful glory

strong present with presence necessary

by any means

fighting an endless war of negativity and negro

negro overpowering the afro

the african

the struggling black from your neighborhood

someday we'll all be free

but when?

when

can i rest my head

black WOman

and sleep deep to awake to our black men still tall

still courageous

still living more than breath

more than air through gritted teeth

growing into what Medgar and Malcolm and Martin were

hero should not have a generational gap.

so

black man, black man

will you rise to the call now the way those before you did not hesitate to?

the way those before pushed for to their plots?

yes, you have obstacles

but so did they

chaotic and unreasonable

organized and bureaucratic

oh black man, black man

Be Negro No More!

we should antiquate the days of the Leagues with Jackie Rob

robbed we were so long of that truth

we own the night

beautiful, chocolate, caramel, cocoa-black men

why not take it?

roots of royalty entrapped in systematic shut-downs of self-esteems through relentless stereotyping

profiling

limelighting the negative instead of the

kings and queens we are

descendants of decadent empires that created culture from the ground

hit fast blood thick staining the concrete jungles we now inhabit

lives lived fast and taken faster

ruled by a history of subjugation that seeks to repeat the dirt

not the glory

the pain

not the pride

decay instead of dynasties ruling the present day of our

black man, black man

Medgar

Malcolm

Martin

making room in the ground

for his blackened feet

sunk in the negro quicksand.

honey, you shrunk my self-esteem

although i never had particularly high self-esteem
lately i find that i have even less
stressed to the point of no return with a level of unrest that mounts in the way that violence builds in overseas war yet
at home the war burns longer
and stronger
and thicker than any i have ever known
despite my best efforts i constantly feel alone
empty
shiftless
worthless
knowing that nothing i will do will likely provide the consistency i want and need
i crave something that i'm not sure exists and yet i am persistent in its pursuit
i look into her eyes and see something worth fighting for and so
i do
but honey,
you've shrunken my self-esteem
into something mean and trivial
minute and untraceable
and again
something i want but deeply fear i may never see again
i simply find myself in a never-ending swirl of confusion with
one minute feeling like bliss
and the other feeling internally dissed and dismissed
told things that cut my soul and make it bleed tears of disappointment and dirt
that's what i feel like
that gritty grit that gets stuck under your feet
that gets swept away
that gets feverishly scrubbed off
i never thought i was 'dirty' before
i do more and more each day
i try to communicate and love and provide all in the same breath and
i know i'm human and i don't do it to perfection but i thought the lesson was in the effort
in the commitment to getting better
doesn't seem like it
sometimes i am scared in my own skin
tiptoeing through my day wondering when i will, next, be scrubbed off in lieu of cleanliness
indescribable is what it is to never know whats next
to love so hard it bleeds
to not know if its returned genuine or as a payment of perceived debt
indescribable
is it to have someone you think so highly of think you are
-.
i
am
small.

if i had a nickel

if i had a nickel for everytime i saw young man or woman that looked like but did not look like i on the corner sipping
box wine and looking for the next line of coke to sniff or
weed to roll into a spliff these
once potentially ivy-bound and now
concrete strapped misfits don't get that the way to survive in the ghetto is to
get out
get up
do something to make you and your own different
because i cannot consciously sit on my stoop and look at you and you and you
the never-will's of who's who
have even a subliminal influence on my nephew who isn't yet to be two
years make your excuses old
the stories of racism and profiling are well-known and while certainly not
dispelled as myth are
things that we must accept as other people's ignorance and resolve ourselves to change in a new movement
otherwise the
sitting and sulking on the hot block where the cop on the beat knows your name and the street on which you live
is just
not
it.

like father, like me

the thought of him being gone frightens me
scared stiff and straight before the news even hits
i grow pensive and introverted the the rest of life's squabbles
what and where will i be without his presence in my life?
tall, dark, and wise
never have his words or his love steered me wrong
days when we don't speak i wonder where he is
what's he's doing and what show he is watching on television
what new health kick he's on or what political conspiracy he has subscribed to in the last few hours
i crave hearing his voice
his deep laugh
being told one of his dry, yet completely hilarious jokes
i see myself in the image of him
mirror reflective of his greatness
his dexterity and kindness stretched far and wide
made in his likeness
my grandfather is the representation of a life of service.
humanly flawed
divinely placed
he stands tall in the face of all i have ever seen
combatting the world's inadequacies with intelligence, wit, and logic
will he be able to battle this with the same strength?
can he?
i fear it's nearing his alleged 'time'
that 'time' that people speak of post-exit in an effort to ease a pain that simply
well
cannot be eased.
the thought of him suffering makes me nauseous
wanting to transfer his ailments to my own earthly limbs
preserving god's soldier for another to experience
the world will never be able to explain to me why bad things happen to good people
why good things happen to those unexpected
and why everything else just
just is.
his walk
his hugs
his smile
i paint his essence in my heart to breath life into my days
but know that paint can never replace the original
the original
never imitated
never replaced
i can only pray for good news
i can only pray for more time
i can only pray that i've showed and told him enough times how i feel.
what if prayer simply isn't enough?

to clarify any potential confusion

you may have noticed that there are several posts of poems and other creative pieces with dates that predate today, which is when i started this blog.

that is because, little by little, i am moving over some of my favorite works from my old blog and i wanted to stay true to the dates that they were written. newcomers - please check out the work and let me know what you think!

riding dolo

i want support in the same way that i dish it and
want to feel like when we kick it we can just kick it without any bullshit because
i love you and don't love it and for some reason my silence is not as legit as yours
it gives you
pause for frustration that isn't intentional yet
when i express the same sentiment your response is detrimental
to our
health
there is so much wealth in happiness and i want us to roll around filthy in it
spend time together loving and laughing and
just being us
the way we were and the way i know we still are but there are so many superfluous things standing in between the us and the view of that
but i'm resilient
despite my cries and sometimes whines
i'm stronger than people like to admit
and when i told you that i am committed
i am
so until things subside and this constructed divide crumbles
i'll just continue to tell you i love you
to show you i love you
to care for you and look out for you the way loved ones do
and soon you, too, will realize
that what's good for you is good for me too
that i have bad moments and days like you do
and that the playing field is equal betwixt and between moods
i just ask for more understanding because
i'm not as brush-off-your-shoulders and hardened as you
and every day i put more effort into walking tall beside you
i try so hard to provide for you and for us and to muster together the energy to always be what you want and need for me to be
but i need encouragement from you, too
and i want to feel like you care as much as i do about understanding and supporting me because
i'm human, too
so human
and i don't want to shirk away
i don't want to stay away
i want to create a way for us to have the life we deserve
until your luck turns to meet me halfway
and then we can
together
as partners
conquer everything that seeks to conquer us first.

Making the big move!

After years of having a blog located at http://www.xanga.com/skytrox , I have decided that, with a new year in the bag (my birthday is fast approaching on the 13th), it's time for a new web address!

Stay tuned as I begin to move some of my poetry and spoken word pieces over to this new location.

covergirl concealer

my world is so muttered with misconception
mangled with the idea that things can stay the same without other things moving forward and that
the things that should be moving forward can either stay stagnant or moonwalk back when
in fact
that is the biggest misconception of them all
you see
love tends to defy all categories
mystify the logical senses in a way that creates a safety bubble around preexisting and current trangressions but when
even that love is pushed to its limits it begins to shift into panic room mode and look within
or with out with a pen
to examine what ought to be happening
to love hard is without control
but the manner in which that love is disseminated certainly has its limits
it can't see-saw to one side and survive
it needs to toggle back and forth otherwise the game is not worth playing at all
and what's more is
those cards that you've tried so hard to stack into a house will fall
and the mess is hard to rebuild
as you know
outpouring of helping hands and hearts still have not rebuilt the ruins of katrina
and they had outside help
this is a private affair
for private eyes and private ears but
will get nowhere if the message isn't clear on both ends even
seething and walking away helps nothing
pervasive frustrations mold and spread
damp with stubborn stares and the revamping of bad past habits
stemming from the need to be harshly defensive to survive
i am not her or him or them and i do not operate well under stares and shut-downs
solitary moments of silence that only seek to deliver uncertainty in a time where that is the ultimate last ingredient that should be added to the recipe
it doesn't need to be stringent but it should be based in compromise
the basis of our lives likely depends on it
feeling eyes that look without faith or hope or help or care
that i know used to be there but seems to be waning with the moonlight
i crave their return but fear i am in an important conversation to save something
by myself.

farewell, five letters

i say it when i know i should because i never want to feel like i didn't and missed the time to reconcile the moment
won't it
make things a little easier once the air is cleared
to say the letters five
loud and clear
especially when it's not fair to expect the same and remain silent?
i can do and do and do and then
somewhere amidst the do's
commit one don't
and the walls fall
all stands still until i utter those words into the air and then
even then
sometimes it still doesn't make ends meet again.
my heart's beats cease when all that i feel and am and do gets defeated by some meaningless assumption deep-seated in your brain
in vain
i often remain silent because to 'defend' myself is worthless in the eyes of the defeated
sometimes i love so hard it hurts
and i give until i bleed
and all i really want in return is to feel like
at the end of the day
i've satisfied the person that means the world to me
i say five letters because i mean them
because i never want to live my last breath feeling like someone didn't know i was bigger
and better than to be five letters less
less the pride and the gumption to refuse to
i say the five letters because sometimes
it's worth the word over anguish
the word of worry
the word over...
over the end.
i'm sorry
are you?

Spoken Lyrics for MJ

august 29th brought a remarkable talent to life
him and 8 siblings blessed the world and the world watched, waiting
stared on at the life and strife that would insue
and you
and i
bore witness to the 7th of the bunch breath magical air into dreams
Billie Jean was not his lover but
Michael Jackson was mine.

in fact i
Remember The Time i first cried watching him perform
glittered glove glory
penny loafer-clad feet gliding across stages like the biblical travel on water
he
too
helped people make sense of the senseless surrounding
all of this in his swift steps and grace
giving faith to fans who had no other way and could only watch a young man from Gary, Indiana travel the land in grand form
earned by hard work and dedication but, above all, humility and honor
braving childhood-less beginnings and inappropriate child accusations
only to still Heal The World by stopping with the Man In The Mirror.

his reflection made me believe that there were places larger than this
people more caring than these
and causes larger than our own daily drawl
in him
i saw a distant friend to all
the definition of talent
of entertainment
of music
of humanitarianism
of heart.

his bigger gift to the world is undoubtedly his legacy of hands-on concern for mankind
talking the talk
walking the walk
dancing the dream
a son, a brother, a friend, a musician, a humanitarian, a legend
I Wanna Be Where You Are but
because of you
I will continue on here some more to Make A Change For Once In My Life
Who Am I
To Be Blind
Pretending Not To See Them Weep?

Michael Jackson was and is the unforgettable Thriller.

cookie crumbs

i feel so
misunderstood
in this
sea of perpetual misunderstanding
shifty eyes meet my perception every time i choose to look in an alternate direction even
for one minute
and then in two
we go from love to leery gestures
festering anger clearly there but
from where?
needing a sense of what's what and what's more is that the more i explore my own feelings and expand the way i relate
it seems that i'm met with more frustration and...
hate?
i hope not because my love runs thicker than the beauty of the london fog and one day i hope to travel overseas together and see the clouds
just her and i
and why things are difficult i cannot quite tell when, well, i am resigned to our personalities being different
and in many ways have come to embrace all of the different tidbits
in fact, i think i'm growing from them
and learning to meet them in the middle has made me a bigger person from them
i met her
and from then
i believe everything happened for a reason
but i cannot continue to feel like i am causing misery in a person who i value as much more than a friend
everything within her i need
i flourish on the things that challenge our existence
i just want to feel like i'm in this to win this with another winner
and not someone who is quick to judge and throw in the proverbial towel
my head and my heart cannot stand the thought of you being unfulfilled in my presence
because the essence of what i think we have and what i want us to be means something bigger and better
but i don't know if i'll ever know the real because the phony facade of happiness that reads complacency is far from transparent
i want you
and i need you
and i'm changing and growing
but today
and yesterday
i wonder if it's enough.

the concept of luck

this week i have been thinking a lot about the concept of luck. certainly, most of us know that life is wrought with an amalgamation of inconsistencies. it tends to throw the largest wrench in your plans at the absolute worst time and then, consequently, some time later, you may feel that the world is at your feet. luck in life or lot in life? i cannot be sure. i do know that the roads, albeit treacherous or indulging, are meant to make you grow stronger, wiser, more driven, more passionate to be a better you than you once were. i currently work as a college counselor at a program that i once attended when i was a 5th and 6th grader called prep for prep. prep for prep is a program that, in essence, is designed to even the playing field of academia and the professional world for students from underrepresented groups by empowering them with the necessary tools, in terms of classroom resources, advocacy, leadership training, and networking. truth be told, when i was in the program, i was one of the 'lucky ones;' that is, i was one of the more privileged students in my contingent of classmates. in fact, until i entered the program, i had never had intimate interaction with anyone who was particularly 'unlucky.' i lived in a middle class/upper middle class neighborhood in queens and went to school with others who looked like me and breathed the same daily air that i did. we all lived in little brick houses, we got driven to each others houses for annual birthday blowouts, our parents chaperoned our dances and class trips and always had time to do so, and we always had allowance in our pockets to use to hang out after school with each other. lucky. i was lucky. and i fully realized the extent of that luck when i entered prep for prep.

i was never a clueless child. even as an elementary school student, politics and social justice were at the forefront of my brain. i staged the only walkout in the history of my elementary school, inspired by my hero at the time, malcolm x, and the recent movie made by spike lee about his life, as my 5th grade teacher denied me the right to free speech when i attempted to read the outrageous difference in definitions of 'white' and 'black' from the websters dictionary. i spent a lot of my extracurricular time writing speeches about the ways in which people ought to affect the wrong in the world and, when done with my pen, went out into the world, accompanied by my grandparents, of course, to do what i could as a 5th grader to back up my words with actions. still, nothing could prepare me for the prep experience. at prep, i met, for the first time, people who embodied all that i preached about. i met friends whose parents slept in vans, who collected change off of the streets to buy meals, who had restraining orders against their parents, who often had no heat or running water - i met friends who had no concept of the way i lived, in the same way that i had no concept of the way that they did. a beautiful and tragic dichotomy of learning for me. finally, i was in an academic environment that truly challenged me. the playing field was even. but i still had so much more than others and it infuriated me. why was this so? my friends were as smart, if not smarter, than i and deserved everything. they earned it. they worked hard for it. why didn't they have it? i grew angry while i was in the program, hardened to the realities of the world but, thankfully, still compelled to change them. in short, i was lucky and i needed to make that luck worthwhile.

at private school, i embraced any opportunity to continue to learn more about those different than i. this time, though, the majority of my peers were luckier than i. not all of them took the same, well-intentioned viewpoints that i had cultivated in the prep program. still, some of them did, a fact that helped me to acknowledge their luck and not be resentful of their own lot in life - they understood and appreciated their luck and worked hard to build that luck into the result of success. i, too, had begun to do the same. i wanted to prove that my luck, vis a vis my grandparents' hard work to give me everything i needed and their own 'luck' in being able to have the cards fall in the right place to make it happen, was becoming the result of success. i began spending my summers at the end of my private school career and while in college working as an english and writing teacher at the prep program. each summer, i met more and more students like those with whom i had attended the program as a student. as the harsh economic climate increased with the years, so did the students who seemed to be 'without luck.' new york and furthermore, world racial and socioecomic politics grew more and more complicated and, so did the situations of my students. i went home at the end of each work day feeling similarly to how i felt as a prep student - angered, hardened, compelled.

the fact is that many people in this world work hard and breathe the drive and passion to succeed and do not always achieve. the world, in this way, is still set up in a tragic dichotomy - those with luck and those without it. as a college counselor, i meet with students and families who do everything right, and have done so for the entire 6 or so years since they first entered the prep program, most of the times since birth even, and, in the end, still end up not attending their school of choice, or not receiving enough financial aid, or not getting accepted into any schools at all. is it fair to say that there is something more that these students could have done? i can only explain their sheer and utter perserverance through adversity, only to be met at the end with disappointment, by a lack of 'luck.' this still, is a complicated concept for me, because to have been in the program to begin with is a form of 'luck.' furthermore, to have attended a prestigious private school is 'luck,' as well. can luck be combined with achievement? there are several students who do not make it through the program for varying circumstances. can they be considered 'unlucky' or ought they to be considered as failing to achieve the dream? i think that it is too complex to pinpoint.

either way, i look at my students everyday and realize that i am very lucky. i am lucky to have led the life that i have led so far, i am lucky to have met the people who i have met. i have learned from all of my experiences and all of the people that i am friends with, am no longer acquainted with, that i have dated, that i have heard speak. my character builds from their spirits and their life stories. i have taken my luck and tried to help others to realize the levels of luck that they have in their own lives and to build off of them. in truth, there is not one single person who is wholly unlucky. everyone has a semblance of luck in their lives - a person, a place, a thing, a moment in time that proved to be intoxicating. where luck translates into success is when a person acknowledges their individualized luck and finds ways to empower themselves from that core and construct a world where they can believe that things don't just happen - they are created, and that is the power of the human spirit. there is always someone in the world who has it worse than you do. be grateful for what you have. be lucky to have it. and show it in a way that is proactive and engaging. it makes luck hold little to no weight, as luck becomes a fond memory that winds its way into a philosophy on life.

just listen...

i know i never thought that i would turn around and rap/ one of those songs that's usually reserved to cats/ come from nothing and then made something from nothing and then could feed the fam and buy some land to build a house on the sand/ in one breath/ because i knew that i had more than that/ and only crack from growing up was the cracks put in my back/ from the stacks of stacks of crap/ i dealt with/ and fuck that/ that shit ain't worthy for a soundoff/ that/ shit is irrelevant to other people's struggles but truth is/ that those cracks in my back/ is study crackin'/ got me ready to go out packing just to see how people reacting/ just to see/ if i could make shit happen/ that ain't never before/ 'cuz 'hind close doors/ i done been through some wars/ and my story is different from those other cats/ still i can't relax/ stay keepin' eyes on my head/ but in the back/ in fact/ i gotta keep'em on the side too/ 'cuz you know how snakes do/ look away once and the whole crew's out to screw you/ the shit's too/ 's that 'cuz i go 'round packing pends instead of pistols/ missions instead of magnums/ they think that i won't react/ but like you/ i got shit to do/ make moves like moves do/ shake off/ those who pursue me/ instead of they dreams/ gotta stay focused/ done seen enough doublewides on the countryside/ i'm tryin' to get mine/ and spend my weekends on the countryside/ cruisin' on boats with no shoes 'n' just doin' it how we do/ and it's true/ i ain't had to struggle much/ but that shit looks so really tough that i ain't tryin' to go there/ just so you know this ain't no bluff/ this is real what i speak/ i pray to god that i never grow weak/ bend on my knees to the cowards who constantly haunting me/ in my dreams/ i know they want to get at me/ but the real story is/ that they just want to be like me/ baggy jeans, cap, confident/ still respected by corporate g's/ overseas/ and it seems/ my confidence is threat-en-ing/ despite the fact that i do whatever i can so they succeed/ real talk/ i can't have what you have 'cuz you don't have it/ so your automatic weapon is to fucking call me a faggot/ you's a ho/ no mo'/ will i cry and bend backs for you/ you a worm and finding worms in my food ain't really cool/ what the fuck you want me to do?/ sit still and stagnant like you?/ fuck up in school?/ talk 'bout my friends 'hind closed doors like they some fools?/ swear i been through it/ the shit is/ is to recognize the realities of the situations that you are facing/ for what they are/ i gotta go far/ 'cuz if i don't then i'll be stuck here/ and i swear/ that i don't think i can be stuck here another year/ watchin' dudes in desperation/ indifferent to their situations/ lacking motivation/ they live with their parents and watch music videos for inspiration/ my brother manny duels with age 20 in december/ but his visions ain't getting bigger because he thinks he's reached his peak at the GED/ streets is mean, little man/ i don't tell you to do college simply for knowledge/ i tell you so when you apply for that job they don't throw your app in the garbage/ and trust/ i wish the world was really different/ but aunt patricia died young in the pj's/ worked hard for many years yet still had roaches in the kitchen/ just listen/ if for a second to my words/ i scream loud and am never heard/ i wage world wars on my fears/ of my thoughts on this track/ just listen/ blood, sweat, and tears while on this earth/ don't look back/ and just listen/ just listen...

dear you

dear you,

there are so many things that i would love to say to you but that i always prevent myself from verbalizing. i try to set my pride aside in hopes that things like human decency and consideration and care for mankind will prevail but i suppose that is all too fantastical for the real world...especially since you always have something else in mind. well look you...i'm sorry that you feel that i am inadequate and several of the tasks that i perform each day. i am sorry that you feel like i take too much time and energy when i sit down to tackle matters from the office. furthermore, i am sorry that you don't like the closeness with which i pursue my friendships. it's not really something i can help. sometimes i feel like it is a gift and a curse. i care too much and i get hurt...but somehow it's always you who ends up frustrated and angry and it's always you who gets the sympathy and reaps the positive benefits in the end. go figure. i'm sorry that my schedule doesn't revolve around you. i know you would like for it to, as you feel you are the center of the universe sometimes...but it really can't. you see, i have several huge things going on in my life right now...my family is still mourning, my mother is most likely dying and still hates me but is too psychotic to show it everyday, my brother is going to be twenty years old in december and still doesn't have his life together or a life plan for that matter, my job is one huge disillusion, and my friends...well...you know how that is, don't you? you're one of them, right? in fact, you embody all of them? you are the friend that doesn't show when she is supposed to, you are the one that i reach to call when i am at my lowest point but doesn't pick up because she has better things to do, you are the one who leaves me stranded for hours before i find out you aren't showing simply because i finally picked up the phone, not you, and you are the one who talks about me being my back after asking me for a favor. well you...fuck you. fuck you for fucking me up. fuck you for fucking me up the way you always do, the way i let you, because you're you. you digust me. i know, i deserve it, right? that's why you fuck me over so often? that's why you have had me numb the last couple of weeks...until this post? numb is a weird not-feeling. it kind of leaves you stranded in dead space, staring, wishing, wondering, thinking...about blank. that's what it's like to feel numb. but you wouldn't know that feeling, would you? no. because you are always on top of the world. you live there, in your perfect bubble, where everything that goes wrong gets deflected onto me, right? it's funny. you know what really bugs me about you? it's that you never even think you've done anything wrong. you live in your world in your bubble and i know you know i am upset and hurting and you continue to exist peacefully, uninterrupted. maybe i wish i was you for that. but, unfortunately, i am not. occassionally, when i slip out of the numb state, i still feel. and i often feel this stinging pain. it creeps from my core through my soul and then stops at my heart right before it travels to my eyes where it makes its way out for all to see and shame me with. damn. the power you have. you get to do whatever you want, say whatever you want, have people dote on you whenever you want, without any return or consequence. wow. but i'm the bad guy. i'm the bad guy. that's what i've been told all of my life. i'm this big and bad and horrible person who comes into people's lives and does more harm than good, right? so why does god even keep me here? why shouldn't i just leave? what good am i? can you answer that for me? you seem to have all of the answers. at least that's what you want me to believe. truth is...i never like to hurt anyone. i have this love inside of me that i was always forced to keep silent. a love that i used to get yelled at and cursed at and sent to my room for showing. no emotion. no fear. no weakness. but that love still stayed. it still lived. and the tough exterior that i am pegged to have? it's just that. exterior. i'm soft to touch on the inside. all i have ever wanted were safe venues to express that love. i just want to love. i know what it was like to grow up never saying i love you until you were thirteen. thirteen. thirteen years old. thirteen years keeping that inside. if i've ever told you i loved you, i meant it. it isn't something i take lightly. but you trample on that every chance you get, don't you? sometimes i just want to see you, chill, talk to you, hear your voice, just to know that things aren't so bad. but you can't even do that. it's too difficult for you...and again, there's this whole schedule thing. i just don't fit in. well...i don't know if there is much i can do about that. i pray a lot. i find that it is relaxing and yet i still find myself searching. god does everything for a reason so i just want to know what the reason is for all of this. the one person to recently cry for me, to express her love for me unsolicited, to say she was proud of me...proud...died. is that a sign? please tell me so i can take it. tell me what it means. do you know? you think you're god, so you should. humans should be so lucky. well i don't want to waste anymore of your time that is so clearly a hassle for you to spend on me most of the time. i'm sure to end my letter to you this way will seem weak but it's truly how i feel and what is at the forefront of my brain right now...

i still love you...it just hurts when i realize it.

"accident" and "lift every voice"

accident

do you really think today is an accident?
methodical madness
distributed by the tall men in suit jackets
made to trap the blacks and other coloreds back in triangular trade maps
contemporary colonialism concocted on cushy cruise ships
operated by so-called misfits who aren't quick-witted enough to get lifted?
crafted by the minds of those too insecure to eliminate those different from them?
diversity digs deep at the core of this mentality that only gets sidetracked by the remembrance of humanity
dedication to division that seeks to reaffirm certain historical inequities between you and me
and him and i
mutual ties to the land do not mitigate ingrained stereotypes in the mind's eye
but it's an accident?
not something hatched in the white house basement?
coveted as if in encasement?
screw 'their' enragement
we will continue engagement with this
accident?
hell-sent
meant to harp on the inherent frustrations of those on the recieving end
and then
through coersive doctrine
it becomes apparent
that this 'misfortune'
is no accident
but a plan mislabeled democracy.

--

lift every voice and sing
louder and prouder than the ones that came before
make sure that
scores and scores more of us make progressive noise
for OUR boys
do it to make earth and heaven ring bells of freedom that were muffled by ignorance
bells of
strength and solidarity
power and prestige
exemplifying a pristine knowledge of self
knowledge that rings with harmonies of
liberty and longevity
livelihood and lamprophony
let our rejoicing rise
as high as the listening skies
but make sure those on earth keep ears and eyes wide open
as it resounds loud as the rolling sea that
carried us here and wouldn't bring us back
strapped with bassinets to insure delivery of product
the same
rolling sea that stacked you and me and he and she on top of each other in an overcrowded bunker to maximize profit
well
fuck that sea and fuck that ship
the sea can roll away and roll that slaveship away with it
because now we

sing a song
full of the faith that the dark past has taught us
we
sing a song
full of the hope that the present has brought us
we
sing songs whose rhythms and words brought on stares from massa and got our ancestors kicked out of the big house even faster than the melodies could leave their lips
songs that caused whippings and warfare
paving the roads for underground airfare

facing the rising sun of our new day begun
one by one
not to outdone or
undone
by any one hired gun from our nation's favorite son
let us march on
till victory is won.

death

what is it like to watch someone die
lifeless laying lacking energy to speak
eating is a task for the weak who feel without
the same strength and provisions that were her only life mission
what is it like to watch someone die
to look straight into their eyes
and see the pain of their demise
to cry and cry and cry
and know that
in the end
her soul will simply have to rise
what is it like to watch someone die
to know that you are helpless
couldn't give her your own life if you tried
hands tied behind your back
that stares at the wall
tall and cold
behold the future
without her touch once more

untitled

diamonds are blinding
used as attempts to escape that which
prevails
in society
despite all of the
hating and haters
hate from those irate by their own unfortunate states
of the union
divided and conquered
by republicans and democrats
who stare back at the very communities from which elected
suspected of corruption but ultimately receive no power disruption
the bushes disguise the bush business
called democracy
that resides at 1600
the capitol unravels at the seams
and yet it seems
we still find ourselves jaded from action
proactive only to our own personal plights
taking hidden delight in the stagnant state of life
in a world where
complaints and stares
replace votes and phone calls
millions upon millions marching along the washington mall
united we stand but divided we
fall from grace in the face of adversity
believe that we
can save
in someone's lifetime
even if not our own
learn to breathe what we allegedly believe
using words written our senior
holy and human
as guides
but still read between the lines
in time
you may find
people quoting you instead of quoting someone else's
lines of people
blank faces and hopelessness
drives dissolving in the american dream
from coal to diamond
from diamond to glare
beware
of the difference between
ignorance and incidental insulation.