an ode to the holiday season

an ode to the holiday season


the holidays, by tradition, are a usual occurrence. they are not something that we have to wish for, or something that we can only imagine of more often than it playing out in reality. the holiday season is annual. year in and year out, the holiday season occurs and we take part in it, willingly or not. it often springs on us, with the everyday bustle of each individual's life causing the onset of it to be sudden. sometimes the holiday season is seen as a hinderance, with time lost from work and money lost to the celebration thereof, so forth and so on. in this way, the holiday season's purpose and vision becomes convoluted. people are jaded by the bells and whistles that now exist as influx for what began as a pure, unsolicited, time of cheer and thanks of birth. at present, the holiday season means more fiscally to many than emotionally and spiritually. the holiday season, our annual culminating experience, runs the risk of dying inside.

instead, the holiday season ought to be lauded unconditionally. the true spirit of the season is not the loss of occupational time or money, it is the girth of love and warmth. the true spirit is the celebration of all that has been given to us on this earth, as created by that which thrives in heaven, in a manner that presents the adequate amount of praise and recognition. the holiday season is a time to laugh and cry in the same breath, to remember those who you love and care for, past, present, and future, and wish them good health and happiness, it is the time to share, albeit monetarily or emotionally, to express your feelings to those who deserve it, to cherish, to hug, to help those around you in any way that you can to appreciate life and living and another year completed on your feet.

the year of 2005 has been filled with a myriad of positive and negative events that contribute to the continued building of the fabric of the human experience. tsunamis, hurricanes, earthquakes, and wars alike have threatened to break our spirits and faith. they have tried the very core of the human heart and released levels of outpouring of emotions and helping hands across nations and ethnic boundaries, in efforts to help fellow man to understand that roads do not have to be straight and clear in order to be survived. 2005, for me, has restored much of my faith in being human. through it all, people continue to exhibit a sense of the central mores and values that keep the earth going. this brand of sentiment will continue to move mountains and make waves in oceans across the world. eventually, this same spirit may bring us to a height of world peace never previously experienced in this lifetime.

in the same breath, however, we have lost so many loved ones and people who have touched our hearts and lives from afar. many have made the journey from earth to the heavenly father and now watch over us from above. mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, grandmothers, grandfathers, cousins, uncles, aunts have all sacrificed this year and now exist in a better place. still, the pain of losing them to the earth has created a new sense of wealth - not in the monetary fashion but, rather, that of the heart. the knowledge of that which exists above, watching over us everyday, restoring our hearts and minds and giving us their warmth from afar, renews life, in a sense. there is simply never, ever a reason to not praise. i, myself, have had and continue to have moments where i feel hopeless and want to leave the earth. i have moments where the world seems too complicated and lonely and i, too, lose sight of all of the marvelous things and people that are the reasons why, despite my moments of death on earth, i continue to exist here. i continue here because i acknowledge that there is still much more work to do.

truth is, the spirit of the holiday season, that which i believe to be slowly dying, is a spirit that ought to exist all year round. it is a spirit that is essential to the well-being of daily life. look at someone next to you and around you and hug them, ask them how their day is going, and, chances are, you many find that either they, too, struggle, or that you should be more thankful for your own circumstances because they struggle a bit more than you. knowing that there is someone else out there who has it worse than you is not a ploy to make you feel guilty. instead, it is meant to remind you of the reality of the world and not only to remind you, but rather, to mobilize you, and help you to be proactive and try, as best as you can, to even the plain.

there is always more work to do and everyone is capable of it.

this season, do not think of the holidays as a time for gifts with bows and wrapping paper. think of it as a time to renew your spirit of giving. the human spirit is meant to pay it forward. pay it forward. make a difference that will resound from the rooftops of your body and radiate to bounds unknown. it is easier than you think.

you can donate money or food or clothing, if you have it. if you don't, you can still give.

donate love.

just as the maker created everything here on earth, and even that which exists above and beyond it for when your time on earth is finished, for us to embrace and make our own individual and human group experiences, each of us ought to pay it forward. jesus died to enable us to live. he leaves a legacy of his creations who, too, have died for similar purposes. those who have fought for equality and freedom and peace...those who continue the battles with a certain devotion that is indescribable by the limitations of the human language. it is only action that can truly express the sentiment.

this is what the holiday season is about. paying it forward. action instead of reaction. love instead of hate. heart instead of mind. after all, isn't that the best lesson to learn? isn't that the best single thing to take out of any given experience? the holiday season may come every year no matter what, but what is to become of the experience of the holiday season without these revelations? what if it isn't what it once was? then the whole experience is shattered. we would be remise without this time of year to restore that which has been strained all of the months prior. the holiday season seeks to replenish and nourish the mind, the heart, and, most importantly, the soul.

can you feel that?

i think it's the holiday season all over again.

intensity

long nights spent
intensely
stares exchanged
and
one by one
each began to fall
even those without the stares
those in the corner
with masks over their faces
leaving little to go on
and even less to believe
sweaty thoughts
palms clam
teeth grit
but seldom consistent
all arise in the same breath
commotion and complexity surface
still
i remain as confused as the first line
to what do i owe the influx of complication?
and how much of it is genuine?
grappling with hours that pass
minutes that drag
leaving little and less answers
in betwixt and between the second hand.

nigger

shots go off
in the face of the young
so many strung
out on the drugs
don't take the time to know where they come from
stung
by the reality of living black
don't want to take it back
instead try to be proud and fight stacked
with the weapons and the warfare of the mouth
nigga this nigga that
strapped with gats
filled with black thoughts of black supposed pride
self-inflicted homicides
racing through the news
nothing to do
except watch an entire race repeat the cycle
lives lost
bullets spray
another day with no higher learning
just the burning
of the flesh and the wounds in the chests
children watching and learning habits of the past
never free at last
never won
no battles
continuously looking like cowards
doing no good in your hood
thinking you make change?
dying fast and living poor
thinking little
acting less
positively
and at best
you know what's worse
we think we're cursed
doomed to repeat the same nigga cycles
living the same nigga nightmares
in the same nigga hoods while the whites live in castles
truth dot
corrupt cops
government stops progress
but breakdown is
cycle starts
with nigga as brethren
instead of nigga as poison
complex history of a derogatory
word so-called embodied by the black man to gain solidarity?
why respect black
in the white situation
if the black themselves spend time wasting
energy and jargon on a word and a lifestyle that harms
past, present, future
ancestors slayed for
the demolishing
of the nigga stereotype
nigga lifestyle
nigga prototype
set up in the big white house with the fence
foundation rooted in nonsense
perpetuated by...
black?
fuck that
death comes by self
no help
until the vernacular checks itself
finds new material
instead of recycling the old
black use of nigga words and lifestyles makes racism calm
no sweaty palms
at the hands of the man who made the full-proof plan
that continues to disturb the psychological stability
of the black figure

one question
would you ever
call
your mother or father
grandmother or grandfather
to their face
dap with cap turned back
cocky and poised on the block
a
nigga
?

the trickle effect

the trickle effect
hits the frame
love, lust, and confusion
remain in the forefront
brains busy
bodies hurting
physicality deteriorating at the core
trickle trickle down
frowns berade my being
no one truly seeing
the thoughts within
me
people seeing but not observing
listening but not hearing
the pangs of pressure in my presupposed position
with pounds of presupposed missions
my head filled with superstitions
nightmares where i'm not aware
of the stares i receive
when i stop being the person that people perceive to be
me
the trickle effect
when it rains it pours
when it trickles it streams
when will i figure out what it all means
?

me

is it so hard for people to see
the person inside that is really me
comparatively
i realize i may seem unworthy of sympathy
i ask not that of you
but maybe some
friendship that won’t make me sick
with the bullshit infallacies it commits
false commitments
of
being here
and being there
when really
you aren’t anywhere but
with yourself

self-help that reflects the feelings felt
of involvement and preoccupation
with the one and only
it must be just me
that is not satisfied
with the idea of
self-social-homicide
at the hands of selfish time

fuck that
fuck this
i’m done with the bullshit
that encrypts my brain
leaves it
pained
sharp pains sharp pains
damaged by the worry of other people’s plans and
of other people’s well-beings
when
more often than not
it is only them they are seeing
bleeding bleeding bleeding
objects in the mirror are closer than they appear
i fear that
the world will soon collapse in itself
because
you and i
can’t find the time
to extend help to others who have felt
the pain that we feel
the stress that we have
i’m so glad
that there is someplace beyond this

all of these
human misfits
cause me to rip shit
sick-stomached
i lay awake at night
hoping and praying
wishing and gazing
in the sky
for a flicker of light
that will give me more direction
on civilization’s plight

how trite
to think
that all there is is what meets the eye
i spy more
than you’ve ever bothered to figure
it was quicker
to assume the best
instead of realizing
that the demeanor of you friend
is not as clean as you would have liked in the end

nauseous nights
leave room for thinking
how long until i can be swept from this polluted ship sinking
heavy with
egos and agendas
please put an end to
my journey on the titanic of troubled tricks
i am told
i think too much
i worry more than i should
but when i am no longer here
to think and worry
i wonder if that will do anyone any good

it’s easier said than done
before you judge
think before you speak
you may never know what you are dealing with at the other end
blank, bleak eyes
waiting for a positive surprise
may be also eagerly seeking a speedy demise
comprised of
fast-paced, no delay, sways away
from the bustle of this place
waiting, “will someone just get rid of me?”
can’t everyone just exhibit a little more sensitivity?

empty jargon

everything that you say to me is taken with a grain
of salt i walk this earth wondering often if it's my fault
that so many see me and treat me the way they want to treat
assuming "oh it's sakai. she'll always be there for me."
that's not fair
nor is it right
and i'm getting too old to pick fights
this shit is trite
especially given all of the new orleans plight
people can say so many things about me
but the one thing
that cannot be said
is that i am self-centered wholly
see, i try to think outside the box
get dirty with issues
take off my socks
walk a mile in someone else's shoes before i'm rude
you never know
what someone else may have going on
even when you think
their whole world is sweet
just like your favorite r&b song
you may be wrong
and then
what?
save the explanations
your energy is what you're wasting
because your talk is empty
and i'm not chasing
your time
your friendship
it's up to you if you commit
i love you
and care for you
action is up to you
because, for right now,
i quit.

bourbon blisters

high winds and thunderstorms warn
of the impending doom of the people of the bourbon city
with empty promises of a bustling metropolis renewed
people scorn babies torn from all that they have known
levees fall
these citizens of the states united of a. stand tall
needing resources and hopeful courses to lead the way out
refugees
reused excuses and statements hatched in the white house basement
bush's only engagement with the new orleans enragement
arises out of a propensity to be preoccupied with the security
of petroleum gas fuel for the noveau underrepresented slaveship
that we call rescue
explain how so few military crew have come to the relief of the sad and mad
presupposed to be less that that currently roaming the streets of baghdad
convoys of 'our boys' with their military machine toys
govern over the weak and the restless
with teflon in their vests
bearing heavy hearts to get off of their chests
knowing that the federal powers that be
that have sent them to 'govern and protect'
are not truly doing their best
guns blazing over hurricane victims like savage animals in cages
i'm still not sure why it amazes me
you see
here in the melting pot of dilapidated democracy
we cannot seem to come to the aid of minorities as rapidly as we do overseas
people on their knees on rooftops
children missing moms and pops
guns cocked and wonder why they hear shots
shocked
and frustrated
inundated with hopelessness and fatigue
as outsiders
can any of us really empathize with those of the southern city of new orleans?
politicians with small ambition of our beloved country stall on pivotal decisions on the hill
while more and more evacuees in astrodomes and convention centers and highways get ill
these bastards won't pass the referendums to get the mission filled
a historical city under water with little to no order
now earnestly has some blues to share stemming from the unraveled seams of its very own french quarter
i dare condolezza rice or colin powell to pack a towel and travel there for one night to sleep on one cot
in fear of getting raped or shot
these people pillage because they have not
no man can claim to understand what it feels like to be in this wasteland
with every impending day
a growing sense that you are a forgotten prisoner of war
on your own land.