I said to myself...
Writing has seemed so distant.
Like a club I used to frequent when I was a single man. Lots of time on my hands.
Kept the hands busy with the crafting of sentences and the development of thoughts on paper.
Do I even write...anymore?
Not as much as I used to but the truth be told not at all.
I take no time for mental exercise in the way in which, well it was.
Maybe that is why I do not write anymore-
Everything I am dying to say to already been said a thousand times over.
Who am I but a small voice in a crowd of spectators.
Trying to make sense of it, prior to making my thoughts immortal.
Now it seems my passion near extinct...a paragraph sighting a year ago.
Maybe two.
Used to wear words like new clothes, poetry was my garment of choice.
An artist muse...married to the rhythm of stanzas in iambic pentameter.
Presently, divorced and not dating too often.
Gave my gifts to the good will.
When will good come of the abundance of vocabulary hidden away in my bosom?
I am a memory...of sun-drenched circles saturated with soulful sounds,
brown hands clapping while a serenade of rhyme and meter passes amongst friends.
Cyphers from dusk to dawn.
That time some time before when
I used to write...so why do I not
Anymore?
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Genius...
They say he was a genius; least that is what one person-who barely knew the "terrorist" that stormed into an elementary school just the other day and opened fire-called him. He was a normal kid. Withdrawn. I say, even though no one has asked, how dare anyone label him anything other than a "terrorist". He is no genius. I do not wish to hear about his mental problems or his social inadequacy. It means nothing. Not how nice his mother was, or how she always spoke to her neighbors. That does not matter at this point. You cannot blame the dead for the sins of their children-but something was wrong here...something was not right and in time it may come to light. Something that triggered this rampage. But something that was known.
But what could have been known, at a time before has no relevance now. He was and in our history will always be a "terrorist". Worse even than Al Qaeda, in that he took away our freedom. Not an attack on the principles of our nation. Not a planned confrontation by a radical leader on the integrity of our political and financial systems. There is pain in 9/11. Pain that will never heal. But we sent our soldiers abroad to seek, fight, find and assassinate the mastermind behind the plot. Bin Laden is dead. America felt a bit safer. Until the terrorist from within robbed us of any peace we may ever feel.
We were not looking for him...did not suspect him at all. He walked among us; the awkward guy in the back row of class. He is now present in our minds. A nightmare in the midst of our dreams. He stole our most precious gifts...and left nothing. At Christmas.
Our children are the most prized possession in our country. They are our future, our present, our joy. You cannot help but smile when you look at them, hear them laugh, talk to them...children are a gift from God. There is nothing bad in a child. Sure, they may act out at times...talk back, and even yell and scream but they are good. They are like sunshine-nourishing the entirety of the world around them. We love them, teach them, guide them, nurture them but most of all we protect them. Everyone, regardless of race, color, creed or religion should protect the children. But at this moment...this precious moment, how do we accomplish what is unquestionably our most important task?
He took our ability. We are handicapped by a fear that we cannot even put into words. Weakened by a sense of helplessness that now plagues our society. I am scared. There is no relief to this fear. Many will call on faith, others on processes and systems to prevent future events...but the fact is the damage has been done. We will never be the same. Terrorism is not often defined simply by the act, but the effects of the act on the human being...the human mind, for the future. How many parents will ever feel safe, dropping their kids off at school again?
He took away our sunshine. He is no genius. No misunderstood boy, or man. He was, is and will always be a "terrorist". I will not praise or endorse any semblance of compassion for this person. We are broken by this event. A nation that prides itself on self-defense, and military might, has been crippled by a terrorist of our own making...able to wield weapons found in the hands of our military-who defend the nation-legally. Right to bear arms? However, this terrorist used these weapons on our babies. He took our future and bludgeoned it. It is no longer recognizable. Tomorrow is a foreign concept.
I do not care to know who he was. I do not care how he felt. I care to know the teachers, the principal and the children...what were their dreams? What did they eat for breakfast? Who was their best friend? I do not want to know anything about his family, his past, his issues. He doesn't matter anymore. Just simply call him what he is. A terrorist. He took away our sunshine...and there are nothing but dark days ahead.
You are my sunshine,
my only sunshine
You make me happy
when skies are gray...
You don't know just how much
I love you
Please don't take
My sunshine...
away
It all changed in an instant
and in an instant we will never be the same
a nation wears pain at half-mast
on this day and many more
on bended knee millions ask
what was this for?
why...sounds so hollow when no answers
follow
no understanding found for all that is seen
at the scene
is...loss
beginnings broken into
26 pieces...
tiny pieces scattered across the room like
toys after morning play
no little ones to put them away
they are all sleeping
to awake no more
and today there is rain from a cloudless sky
for each life a thousand tears will fall
preparing the earth to receive
her children
she wraps them in a deep sadness
and whispers to the moon to hide the sun
if only for a moment
and there is silence amongst the people
their joy eclipsed by the darkness
of the present
why...sounds so distant when the light
is non-existent
questions fill the air,
forgiveness is buried with the young
eyes water as the thought of tomorrow
comes
close your eyes...
and try remembering the sun
close your eyes
remembering
the sun
But what could have been known, at a time before has no relevance now. He was and in our history will always be a "terrorist". Worse even than Al Qaeda, in that he took away our freedom. Not an attack on the principles of our nation. Not a planned confrontation by a radical leader on the integrity of our political and financial systems. There is pain in 9/11. Pain that will never heal. But we sent our soldiers abroad to seek, fight, find and assassinate the mastermind behind the plot. Bin Laden is dead. America felt a bit safer. Until the terrorist from within robbed us of any peace we may ever feel.
We were not looking for him...did not suspect him at all. He walked among us; the awkward guy in the back row of class. He is now present in our minds. A nightmare in the midst of our dreams. He stole our most precious gifts...and left nothing. At Christmas.
Our children are the most prized possession in our country. They are our future, our present, our joy. You cannot help but smile when you look at them, hear them laugh, talk to them...children are a gift from God. There is nothing bad in a child. Sure, they may act out at times...talk back, and even yell and scream but they are good. They are like sunshine-nourishing the entirety of the world around them. We love them, teach them, guide them, nurture them but most of all we protect them. Everyone, regardless of race, color, creed or religion should protect the children. But at this moment...this precious moment, how do we accomplish what is unquestionably our most important task?
He took our ability. We are handicapped by a fear that we cannot even put into words. Weakened by a sense of helplessness that now plagues our society. I am scared. There is no relief to this fear. Many will call on faith, others on processes and systems to prevent future events...but the fact is the damage has been done. We will never be the same. Terrorism is not often defined simply by the act, but the effects of the act on the human being...the human mind, for the future. How many parents will ever feel safe, dropping their kids off at school again?
He took away our sunshine. He is no genius. No misunderstood boy, or man. He was, is and will always be a "terrorist". I will not praise or endorse any semblance of compassion for this person. We are broken by this event. A nation that prides itself on self-defense, and military might, has been crippled by a terrorist of our own making...able to wield weapons found in the hands of our military-who defend the nation-legally. Right to bear arms? However, this terrorist used these weapons on our babies. He took our future and bludgeoned it. It is no longer recognizable. Tomorrow is a foreign concept.
I do not care to know who he was. I do not care how he felt. I care to know the teachers, the principal and the children...what were their dreams? What did they eat for breakfast? Who was their best friend? I do not want to know anything about his family, his past, his issues. He doesn't matter anymore. Just simply call him what he is. A terrorist. He took away our sunshine...and there are nothing but dark days ahead.
You are my sunshine,
my only sunshine
You make me happy
when skies are gray...
You don't know just how much
I love you
Please don't take
My sunshine...
away
It all changed in an instant
and in an instant we will never be the same
a nation wears pain at half-mast
on this day and many more
on bended knee millions ask
what was this for?
why...sounds so hollow when no answers
follow
no understanding found for all that is seen
at the scene
is...loss
beginnings broken into
26 pieces...
tiny pieces scattered across the room like
toys after morning play
no little ones to put them away
they are all sleeping
to awake no more
and today there is rain from a cloudless sky
for each life a thousand tears will fall
preparing the earth to receive
her children
she wraps them in a deep sadness
and whispers to the moon to hide the sun
if only for a moment
and there is silence amongst the people
their joy eclipsed by the darkness
of the present
why...sounds so distant when the light
is non-existent
questions fill the air,
forgiveness is buried with the young
eyes water as the thought of tomorrow
comes
close your eyes...
and try remembering the sun
close your eyes
remembering
the sun
You are my sunshine,
my only sunshine
You make me happy
when skies are gray...
You don't know just how much
I love you
Please don't take
My sunshine...
away
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Midwest Spit
So I found myself in Kansas City for a few days this week-on business. But when I am blessed with the ability to travel to a new city I always try to check out the poetry scene. So I fell into this little spot in the 18th and Vine District. It used to be a jazz area, with likes of Byrd and Basie on the scene, so the energy was good. Spot was called the Blue Room-I entered about 9:30pm.
Now I don't know when the set began, but I just checked in with host- when he said the last poet was up and asked could I spit. His exact words were "No problem brother-what's your name?"
Word? Now I been to a many poetry set, and I ain't never received that type of instant love. So, after about fifteen minutes in the spot I closed up the open mic-word. I dropped a classic, Why You Wanna...and I think I repped DC fairly well. Funny, I ain't been on the mic in the District in years-but regardless got love in KC.
Just so cool to travel, and vibe with folks on the artistic tip. Good times. So now I am on a plane on my way back to the East Coast, frustrated with some delays of the day but my headphones are blaring that new Nas, Life is Good, and the memory of the other night leaking out my fingertips-must admit I am cool. Just feeling okay about my space in the universe you know. Honestly, with that energy in my spirit, gotta let it flow...
Like above and beyond
The level I am on
Spiritual plane fly over
Negative things
I reign...king of my situation
Peasant to pleasantries
Not dominated by past mistakes
I have made
My way paved by bearers of
My name
A reflection of he who has seen
Many things
I dress in various shades of gray
Suited for all that may come
Numb to my own indecision
Learn to listen more than
Speak
To some the changes in my person
A reason to question
Me...
Burdened by less than most
Yet still in possession of pain
Thus,
I refrain from allowing the ignorance
Of acts committed yesterday
To limit my progression
Potential
Infinite-outside space and time
The Wisdom
I seek, simply trying to become
Better than he who stares back in the mirror
So I outline my hopes and dreams
In poetic verses over imaginary beats
And proclaim to be MC
Manifesting creativity as I magnify my culture
Mending community to mobilize the collective
A soldier, with more faith than fortune
Methodically committed to the movement of chains from mental
Of all within striking distance
it is essential that I remain
Stay
Majestically cultivated...mellow cool
I be
Momentarily canonized in rhyme and meter
Message caretaker for the sake of memory classification
Place my words amongst your dreams
Move crowds with the melodic cadence of consonants and vowels
See above and beyond all else
I master ceremonies when present
Microphone captivator
Massaging the consciousness of the people
MC...
Copyright 2012
Now I don't know when the set began, but I just checked in with host- when he said the last poet was up and asked could I spit. His exact words were "No problem brother-what's your name?"
Word? Now I been to a many poetry set, and I ain't never received that type of instant love. So, after about fifteen minutes in the spot I closed up the open mic-word. I dropped a classic, Why You Wanna...and I think I repped DC fairly well. Funny, I ain't been on the mic in the District in years-but regardless got love in KC.
Just so cool to travel, and vibe with folks on the artistic tip. Good times. So now I am on a plane on my way back to the East Coast, frustrated with some delays of the day but my headphones are blaring that new Nas, Life is Good, and the memory of the other night leaking out my fingertips-must admit I am cool. Just feeling okay about my space in the universe you know. Honestly, with that energy in my spirit, gotta let it flow...
Like above and beyond
The level I am on
Spiritual plane fly over
Negative things
I reign...king of my situation
Peasant to pleasantries
Not dominated by past mistakes
I have made
My way paved by bearers of
My name
A reflection of he who has seen
Many things
I dress in various shades of gray
Suited for all that may come
Numb to my own indecision
Learn to listen more than
Speak
To some the changes in my person
A reason to question
Me...
Burdened by less than most
Yet still in possession of pain
Thus,
I refrain from allowing the ignorance
Of acts committed yesterday
To limit my progression
Potential
Infinite-outside space and time
The Wisdom
I seek, simply trying to become
Better than he who stares back in the mirror
So I outline my hopes and dreams
In poetic verses over imaginary beats
And proclaim to be MC
Manifesting creativity as I magnify my culture
Mending community to mobilize the collective
A soldier, with more faith than fortune
Methodically committed to the movement of chains from mental
Of all within striking distance
it is essential that I remain
Stay
Majestically cultivated...mellow cool
I be
Momentarily canonized in rhyme and meter
Message caretaker for the sake of memory classification
Place my words amongst your dreams
Move crowds with the melodic cadence of consonants and vowels
See above and beyond all else
I master ceremonies when present
Microphone captivator
Massaging the consciousness of the people
MC...
Copyright 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
I'll Fly Away...
We sent my grandmother home today, Mary Louise Banks. She was 90 years old. She was my favorite person. She just, well, she put so much into me. So much life, and I tried to be a good grandson I really did. But, I always think of more I could of done; things I could have said; time I could have spent. I actually know there is no place for that right now...that guilt accompanies death like personal servant-attending to all its needs. I need not buy into guilt right now, but part of me wants to dwell in this sad place...the pain, the tears somehow bring me closer to her. I know this all sounds like nonsense but emotions have no basis in fact or reality. They are not bound to rules or parameters...emotions are free and whether you choose to submit to them or not, they are ever-present. On days such as this one, their power is overwhelming.
I cannot be sad but I cannot be happy either. My grandma is gone; outside this existence and entering into a new day. A day undefined by time, hours or minutes, and lasting infinitely.
I cannot be sad but I cannot be happy either. My grandma is gone; outside this existence and entering into a new day. A day undefined by time, hours or minutes, and lasting infinitely.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Extended
I was in a training class today-actually an executive leadership class and the coach asked everyone how they were feeling at the end of it. People went about the normal list of terms-"motivated", "present", "engaged"...yada, yada, yada. I mean I am usually on that train as well, but today, well just in general lately I have felt particularly extended. Almost like Mr. Fantastic. Not familiar with the Fantastic Four? Well, Mr. Fantastic the self-appointed leader of the four, was basically an elastic man-whose limbs could stretch hundreds of feet. In every one of their adventures it would somehow be necessary for him to stretch to the maximum of his body limit to stop a train, or save a helpless citizen. Afterwards however, he would be stretched out (literally) and weak. Extended.
I just think I have so much happening that the thing I really need to take care of-my dissertation proposal, is the last piece of work that I have touched. I sit here now and write a blog when I could be taking a few minutes to do something toward it. But I always say tomorrow. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I will do no more tomorrow but it make me feel okay about today...Oh, tomorrow, tomorrow...yeah, you get it right. I am succumbing to what many have called self-sabotage. I must fight my way out of my way...or I am destined to not quite get this right.
Still, regardless of what I have to do-I feel drained. Like no matter how much work I put in, there is only more work as the prize. It is like being inside a box and working diligently to break out of that box, and you bust through and find-you are still in another box. So you begin to work on busting out of that and you finally make it and...another box. No light just tunnel. It can be discouraging...and at times can move you into the space of nothingness. What is nothingness? Well, it is when you do nothing, say nothing, feel nothing and have nothing to look forward to. Got to, for me to be successful, make something out of nothing.
I just think I have so much happening that the thing I really need to take care of-my dissertation proposal, is the last piece of work that I have touched. I sit here now and write a blog when I could be taking a few minutes to do something toward it. But I always say tomorrow. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I will do no more tomorrow but it make me feel okay about today...Oh, tomorrow, tomorrow...yeah, you get it right. I am succumbing to what many have called self-sabotage. I must fight my way out of my way...or I am destined to not quite get this right.
Still, regardless of what I have to do-I feel drained. Like no matter how much work I put in, there is only more work as the prize. It is like being inside a box and working diligently to break out of that box, and you bust through and find-you are still in another box. So you begin to work on busting out of that and you finally make it and...another box. No light just tunnel. It can be discouraging...and at times can move you into the space of nothingness. What is nothingness? Well, it is when you do nothing, say nothing, feel nothing and have nothing to look forward to. Got to, for me to be successful, make something out of nothing.
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