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.
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.
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.
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,
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
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.
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
