There are times, when I do not identify with people who are supposedly like me. It is not that I try to be different than everyone, I mean at some point we are all individuals and no two persons have the exact same experiences. But we categorize, generalize and basically lump people together all the time. I think it is this "lumping" that I resist the most. I don't know...at times I feel like I may think I am not in a category but in reality I am. It is in this exploration, or perhaps a better word 'confrontation' with self that the question of identity arises. Who am I really? Like beyond the "how I see me," who does the world see me? My family-friends? Who is it that I portray on a daily basis?
I ask these questions not truly in expectation of some miraculous answer to suddenly appear-but in hopes of analyzing myself and taking a step back from simply being...to start becoming. I know this is all abstract so I will try to frame it. I have been moving along the pathway of life for 35 years...not exactly in control of the path, but more taking it as it came and dealing with the joys and pains along the way. At one point perhaps I charted my course, but when various happenings, well, happened, and the course I charted was re-routed I kinda just went with it. I have not controlled many of the outcomes that have happened, I was simply a recipient of the positive or negative affects. When a person lives this way, where life is on somewhat of auto-pilot than I feel that person is simply being. This doesn't mean that no decisions are made, but life is not moving in a definite direction because of the input or work of the individual. Arguably, it is moving in a direction because of the lack of input and/or work.
I am simply being. In being, one's identity is soft...like lines drawn in sand. The person is somewhat unsure of who he or she truly is, or wants to be, and is most often in a continuous state of 'figuring' that out. To be or not to be; that is the question. I feel most are in this place, where there identity is fluid and although the traits of their personality may be well-defined who they essentially are-beyond paper-is less rigid. It is not bad to just be...but to become, well that is something more structured; purposeful.
To become is first to understand what it is and who it is you wish to become. In other words, there is a finish line...a completion date. The irony in this is that it may never be met, but the actions and work in this individual's life is all in an effort to become "someone," greater than the present state. For example-he wanted to become a writer. So he wrote, and became an author. So he published his writings and continued to become a novelist. Thus to become, is to be in the continuous state of becoming...moving, progressing, increasing, rising, developing.
Therefore identity, is not a stagnant term. In this I mean if we are in a constant state of becoming, then our identity is ever-changing. We do not have to be defined simply by who we have been, but also by who we wish to be. It is in this notion, that we do not have to be constricted by our identity. I am not a simply a man...but so much more.
I am who I be...
and I am not
I can change the frame
around this thing
but the same
will be
and still not entirely
I am at times
simply who you see-
defined by the world
my reality
far different
than that which others
perceive
yet
I admit it
seems I have got
an image that is
inconsistently projected
on the jumbo screen
of daily life
and as much as I
believe
I be as real as they
come
I am not
not good or bad
nor more or less
the best of me is all I got
and these issues
with my identity
In life we provide most with just the surface of who we are, the surface of ourselves...of our soul. Here, I wish to transcend normalcy, and delve to the otha side of my...
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Blood on the Ballot Box...boy
On this past evening I attended a most powerful "Get Out to VOTE" Rally, and I must admit I was overwhelmed. I was actually on the program, with the likes of folks from the show The Wire, and National Urban League President and CEO Marc Morial...it was quite riveting to say the least. I performed a recently written piece entitle "Blood on the Ballot Box." I did not know it would register with people the way that it did and I am proud of the response. My critique of myself is it could have been tighter-muffed some lines-but at the end of the day the message is the most meaningful aspect and the audience got that.
I think the audience, the nation really, understands that concept better now than ever before. We are indebted to the ancestors, for it is their blood that was lost so we could gain-so we could have just this moment to seriously ponder a black man as our president. The fear in all this is that the race is far from over, and there are forces that will try to negate the power of this moment, and others that will try to reverse this tide of change. However, that which has been ordained by God, no man can deny.
Barack Obama...from great speech in '04, to longshot, to presumptive nominee, to party leader to this moment. The ride has been remarkable, but it is not simply his rise to party prominence and international notariety that I pay attention to but the emotions of our people...citizens of this democratic America whom are ready to make a difference in their country and the world. I do not think that it is ironic that I was in Williamsburg, Virginia for the entire week before the rally. I was assisting with a government fellows program entitled Excellence in Government, and our kickoff celebration was in the historic and presently colonial Williamsburg.
The beauty in the fact that I was there came in the form of past reality. In the term past reality, I mean that I was forced to examine the construction of this nation, in its most raw form. Slavery was discussed as a necessary-economic phenomenon in the same breath as equality of man. As I sat there inhaling the eloquence of the Declaration of Independence, I simultaneously thought of all my ancestors whose blood, sweat and tears held this nation up during its most formative years. Then...as I returned to my hotel room I would turn on the TV and sit and watch the nation debate the legitimacy of man-a man whose own ethnic heritage is the combination of all that is great about this country-to be President of these United States.
I was very emotional when I sat down to write the piece, Blood on the Ballot Box. It is my term, I have coined it and perhaps I heard it somewhere before but it was in the emotional state of my Williamsburg visit that I gave life to a poem that may very well define our moment-and the responsibility that we hold as citizens during this most critical time in our history...
My granddaddy said there is
Blood on the ballot box boy
Best not to take your right
So liberally
When you turn 18
Many laid down their lives
So you could be free
And that freedom may not be
Infinite-
So your only guarantee is to make sure
You are represented
In those nation conversations
Up there on the hill
It would be to your
Benefit
To pay close attention to current events
At least most of the time
Read both sides of the arguments
So you can pick through the lies
Delete the deceit
And develop a personal understanding
Of what America is supposed to be
America is supposed to be
Something different than what I see
At present
Seems we put war before diplomacy…
Got us losing little children
In the sandbox overseas
Seems our fear of terrorism has led us
To become that which we
Despise
Can’t tell me the amount of lives mistakenly
Taken during our occupation
Of sovereign nations
Not to mention the suspension of civil rights
For all those
At Guantanamo
Yes, there is blood on the ballot box boy
But seems we bleed black
Our people so addicted to oil our arms
Filled with tracks
Shooting up SUVs and luxury sedans
With that premium petro
While profits stack for the Exxons and BPs…
And you-
You have to choose to drive to work
Or eat
Merely survive or meet defeat
Must be blood on the ballot box boy
Homeowners homeless because
Banks bleeding families…
And they both dying off the sub-prime beast
That is eating its way through
Capitalism…
But who unleashed its wrath
Legs of the stock market so weak
The entire economy about to crash
And burn
Like the money you thought your
IRA would earn
So no one can retire and if you get fired
You join the millions
Already in line
Unemployment rates climb
High atop these mountains of debt
Half a trillion dollar deficit…
Weighs heavily on the taxpayers
Backs…
But there be blood on that ballot box boy
You best to know the facts
For you step inside the booth
Make sure the truth is not what you lack
This race is not about
Race…
Analyze the candidates
Study their platforms and agendas
Listen to the debates
Who is real, and who is the
Pretender?
But regardless of whom you choose
It is this you must remember
There is blood on the ballot box boy
Ancestors died to protect
The constitutional right for
You and I to select
Representatives dedicated to making
America what it is supposed to be-
Pray we do their blood justice
And rewrite our future history
Copyright 2008
I think the audience, the nation really, understands that concept better now than ever before. We are indebted to the ancestors, for it is their blood that was lost so we could gain-so we could have just this moment to seriously ponder a black man as our president. The fear in all this is that the race is far from over, and there are forces that will try to negate the power of this moment, and others that will try to reverse this tide of change. However, that which has been ordained by God, no man can deny.
Barack Obama...from great speech in '04, to longshot, to presumptive nominee, to party leader to this moment. The ride has been remarkable, but it is not simply his rise to party prominence and international notariety that I pay attention to but the emotions of our people...citizens of this democratic America whom are ready to make a difference in their country and the world. I do not think that it is ironic that I was in Williamsburg, Virginia for the entire week before the rally. I was assisting with a government fellows program entitled Excellence in Government, and our kickoff celebration was in the historic and presently colonial Williamsburg.
The beauty in the fact that I was there came in the form of past reality. In the term past reality, I mean that I was forced to examine the construction of this nation, in its most raw form. Slavery was discussed as a necessary-economic phenomenon in the same breath as equality of man. As I sat there inhaling the eloquence of the Declaration of Independence, I simultaneously thought of all my ancestors whose blood, sweat and tears held this nation up during its most formative years. Then...as I returned to my hotel room I would turn on the TV and sit and watch the nation debate the legitimacy of man-a man whose own ethnic heritage is the combination of all that is great about this country-to be President of these United States.
I was very emotional when I sat down to write the piece, Blood on the Ballot Box. It is my term, I have coined it and perhaps I heard it somewhere before but it was in the emotional state of my Williamsburg visit that I gave life to a poem that may very well define our moment-and the responsibility that we hold as citizens during this most critical time in our history...
My granddaddy said there is
Blood on the ballot box boy
Best not to take your right
So liberally
When you turn 18
Many laid down their lives
So you could be free
And that freedom may not be
Infinite-
So your only guarantee is to make sure
You are represented
In those nation conversations
Up there on the hill
It would be to your
Benefit
To pay close attention to current events
At least most of the time
Read both sides of the arguments
So you can pick through the lies
Delete the deceit
And develop a personal understanding
Of what America is supposed to be
America is supposed to be
Something different than what I see
At present
Seems we put war before diplomacy…
Got us losing little children
In the sandbox overseas
Seems our fear of terrorism has led us
To become that which we
Despise
Can’t tell me the amount of lives mistakenly
Taken during our occupation
Of sovereign nations
Not to mention the suspension of civil rights
For all those
At Guantanamo
Yes, there is blood on the ballot box boy
But seems we bleed black
Our people so addicted to oil our arms
Filled with tracks
Shooting up SUVs and luxury sedans
With that premium petro
While profits stack for the Exxons and BPs…
And you-
You have to choose to drive to work
Or eat
Merely survive or meet defeat
Must be blood on the ballot box boy
Homeowners homeless because
Banks bleeding families…
And they both dying off the sub-prime beast
That is eating its way through
Capitalism…
But who unleashed its wrath
Legs of the stock market so weak
The entire economy about to crash
And burn
Like the money you thought your
IRA would earn
So no one can retire and if you get fired
You join the millions
Already in line
Unemployment rates climb
High atop these mountains of debt
Half a trillion dollar deficit…
Weighs heavily on the taxpayers
Backs…
But there be blood on that ballot box boy
You best to know the facts
For you step inside the booth
Make sure the truth is not what you lack
This race is not about
Race…
Analyze the candidates
Study their platforms and agendas
Listen to the debates
Who is real, and who is the
Pretender?
But regardless of whom you choose
It is this you must remember
There is blood on the ballot box boy
Ancestors died to protect
The constitutional right for
You and I to select
Representatives dedicated to making
America what it is supposed to be-
Pray we do their blood justice
And rewrite our future history
Copyright 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
October Sky
This is one of those days when the freestyle just hits me-I need to write...
October sky
at dusk
trust that the
conclusion of another
year is near
and all that has been done
is done
and all that will be
is yet locked
in the mind
still the skyline
rekindles memories
of Fall befores
Autumns' past that last
on in thought
and the breeze still smells the same
like dried leaves and pumpkin
pie
under the orange-blue sky
I forget the present and
drift into the abyss
of yesterday
mid-term grades
and Homecoming parades
but never made the dance
by chance
I disguise my feelings
as if Hallow's eve
and no one can see
the summer serenade in
my eyes
only the reflection
of this
October
sky...
October sky
at dusk
trust that the
conclusion of another
year is near
and all that has been done
is done
and all that will be
is yet locked
in the mind
still the skyline
rekindles memories
of Fall befores
Autumns' past that last
on in thought
and the breeze still smells the same
like dried leaves and pumpkin
pie
under the orange-blue sky
I forget the present and
drift into the abyss
of yesterday
mid-term grades
and Homecoming parades
but never made the dance
by chance
I disguise my feelings
as if Hallow's eve
and no one can see
the summer serenade in
my eyes
only the reflection
of this
October
sky...
Fall...
It is fall...as I stare out of my window the beauty of God's paint brush is evident. The trees have changed color, an array of yellows, oranges, reds and greens lie across the grass-fallen from their momentary perch of display. The sky is as blue as Caribbean water...with cottonballs sprinkled throughout its canvas. It is a truly beautiful day. It is actually Howard University Homecoming, and again-a wonderful day for the game and the fashion show on campus. But outside of all that, I feel good. Life is not easy nor simple by far, but it is good. I am healthy, I have love, I am able to pay my bills and eat...not so bad this life.
I had not been blogging regularly for some time, I do not know how many entries begin with "it has been a while since I have written..." I have somewhat of an erratic sense of being with regard to my art. I do feel I am an artist-we are all self-defined beings in one way or another-but I feel that I create something from nothing...infrequently but enough to designate that ability as artistic. I am a writer...not reknown or even plain known for that title but that is what I feel I am and one day-perhaps-will truly be. Presently I am just figuring it all out.
I just turned 35. Well, it was actually several months ago but feels like "just." I sometimes look at where others are at in their respective life at 35-actors, business people, atheletes...but that is truly an unrealistic comparison. I do not feel like 35 is mid-life, but at some point dreams of being "famous" or really doing some major things tend to diminish the older you get. 35 is the age when you begin to come to terms with the possibility of never fulfilling those dreams. Does not in any way mean that you will not, but responsibilities have changed for many at this age and with responsibility-mortgage, family, job/career-dreams sometimes are, well as Langston put it, deferred.
I just read a book about dreams...it was not phrased that way at all but that was what it is about, following your dreams and passion. It was entitled the Alchemist. I recommend it to all out there in internet land. It has me really thinking about my dreams, or as referenced in the book, my personal legend. It is like there is something within you, something you have always wanted out of life but perhaps feared taking the chance or the steps to attain it. You may be comfortable and safe in your life now, but that emotion of "what could have been" gnaws at you every so often. The book said most never respond to that feeling...never seek out their personal legend. Never really fulfill their heart's purpose. I do not want to be old and gray and still wonder what if? I know I do it now...and that may be the only problem-finding the courage to pursue that which is within your soul.
There is a line in the book that stays with me, and I will paraphrase it here-if you really follow your dream or your personal legend and it is in tune with that which God has placed in your spirit for you then all the powers of the universe will conspire to make it happen in your life. Deep, all the powers of the universe will conspire to make your goal a reality. What if we really believe that...I know it is simply an illustration of faith in God, but if we really gave it all to God and did our best to accomplish that which drives our spirit...hmmmm, what are the possibilities?
Fall. One of my most favorite times of the year. School used to start, so it always reminds me a new beginning. A time for learning new things, new ideas and ways to achieve in life. The earth puts on one last show before the old is passed away and the new life is born in the spring. Fall-how beautiful today is.
I had not been blogging regularly for some time, I do not know how many entries begin with "it has been a while since I have written..." I have somewhat of an erratic sense of being with regard to my art. I do feel I am an artist-we are all self-defined beings in one way or another-but I feel that I create something from nothing...infrequently but enough to designate that ability as artistic. I am a writer...not reknown or even plain known for that title but that is what I feel I am and one day-perhaps-will truly be. Presently I am just figuring it all out.
I just turned 35. Well, it was actually several months ago but feels like "just." I sometimes look at where others are at in their respective life at 35-actors, business people, atheletes...but that is truly an unrealistic comparison. I do not feel like 35 is mid-life, but at some point dreams of being "famous" or really doing some major things tend to diminish the older you get. 35 is the age when you begin to come to terms with the possibility of never fulfilling those dreams. Does not in any way mean that you will not, but responsibilities have changed for many at this age and with responsibility-mortgage, family, job/career-dreams sometimes are, well as Langston put it, deferred.
I just read a book about dreams...it was not phrased that way at all but that was what it is about, following your dreams and passion. It was entitled the Alchemist. I recommend it to all out there in internet land. It has me really thinking about my dreams, or as referenced in the book, my personal legend. It is like there is something within you, something you have always wanted out of life but perhaps feared taking the chance or the steps to attain it. You may be comfortable and safe in your life now, but that emotion of "what could have been" gnaws at you every so often. The book said most never respond to that feeling...never seek out their personal legend. Never really fulfill their heart's purpose. I do not want to be old and gray and still wonder what if? I know I do it now...and that may be the only problem-finding the courage to pursue that which is within your soul.
There is a line in the book that stays with me, and I will paraphrase it here-if you really follow your dream or your personal legend and it is in tune with that which God has placed in your spirit for you then all the powers of the universe will conspire to make it happen in your life. Deep, all the powers of the universe will conspire to make your goal a reality. What if we really believe that...I know it is simply an illustration of faith in God, but if we really gave it all to God and did our best to accomplish that which drives our spirit...hmmmm, what are the possibilities?
Fall. One of my most favorite times of the year. School used to start, so it always reminds me a new beginning. A time for learning new things, new ideas and ways to achieve in life. The earth puts on one last show before the old is passed away and the new life is born in the spring. Fall-how beautiful today is.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Half-moon...
Through the blinds I see a half-moon. It is clear tonight, and it is almost as if I have a telescope attached to my naked eye. The craters and the pure imagery on the moon is visible. It makes me wonder. Who else is looking right now at the moon...feeling something, wondering as well who else is "feeling" with them. The universe is truly beyond my own comprehension, but at times just the earth...America...this city I live in and all the people within-it is just beyond my comprehension. What if for one moment we were all looking at the moon...all at the same time. Would that not be divine?
The awesome power of the world. I don't think that I respect that power enough. The moon controls the ocean...its magnetic force causes the waves to move. It is like Earth's partner, following the planet around eternally. The moon must love the Earth...
The awesome power of the world. I don't think that I respect that power enough. The moon controls the ocean...its magnetic force causes the waves to move. It is like Earth's partner, following the planet around eternally. The moon must love the Earth...