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.

spiritual path

fired fury runs thick through the veins of my being
waiting
wondering
envisioning
the lie that is your soul
you sit
feverishly
amidst a sea of empty promises and promiscuity
that radiates from your existence
and still
you present yourself tall
and proud
judgmental
and unrelenting
i'm done wishing
you were someone that you never will be
so daring
you pass misappropriated condemnation upon my fascination with the misfortune and broken path you are facing
because you cannot feel
me?
or is it
because you would like to
and can't
that you make me feel subhuman
stripping the ringlets of pride and confidence that took so long to grow
so fast away
in one eye
blink
twice
you did this
now three
you've pushed it
yet somehow
i still blame me
you phony prophesizer
touting religion with a faltered vision of your own vision and path so you turn the tables on
me?
you
are unhealthy
for your own spiritual path
so i must laugh
since you'd rather funnel your insecurity on
me?
i let you in
and you exited out
in one breath
taking a piece of my heart that i never truly thought you capable of
and again
yet still
i somehow feel as if
this is one large nightmare of a dream
meant to provide one hell of a mean week
i suppose
i simply have yet to let it seap
in
me?
you
hurt me with no emotion
coasting on the guidance of others
conducting a business call with my vulnerability
how does it feel
to know you
in the end
obstruct
your own
spiritual path
more
than any of we?

prototype

the warmth that the heart brings
sings clear in the air
midnight
without fright
i extend my place to thee
heart open
pierced in perfect places
perfect faces seem to erase the lacerations
still pacing
still waiting
for the ultimate level of clarity
are you mad at me?
too blind to see
the answer
replies are empty
now it's simply
games of waiting
taking time to look at the situation
pace pacing again
my heart erasing again
holes that control my soul
cold
old abrasions
not quite sold
on reconciliation
needs and desires confirmed
but unattainable
isn't it insane to you
to lose
the very thing that we've been working to prove?
through thick and thin
troubles and worries
ditches and hurdles
know that i never stay unaffected
but always stay loyal and tested
tried and true
love sparked anew
can be platonic
though it's different and plain
interest remains
but without each other
we go insane
no more games
yeah other names get involved
but we share heart
the places we made
will never be the same
back in you came
don't leave again
reasons are thin
remember emerson?
remember him?
remember not only the self-reliant pen
but the one written about friends
friends, responsibility, and ends
i'm sorry it's hard
i'm sorry that you're a prototype in the light
i'm sorry you can't
i'm sorry it's not clear
clarity keeps building with the new year
but don't leave me in dark
the visions mark stark remarks
embarked on a requiem set apart
to start thoughts of inadequacy that
reveals the question mark.

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
?