Too Late

You would think he would've learned
after all the cliches and displays
of love lost and then missed.

I hate it
That he didn't realize he loved me
when he said he loved me;
every time before we hung up the phone,
every time we made up and changed our tone.
Its been three months since we broke up
and now hes looking to make up
because he is realizing what he lost
and how much time he's cost
us. You and me, we.

You would think I would have learned
after all the cliches and displays
of love lost and then missed.

I hate it
that it takes fear for me to realize
how much I love him again.
It dwells in the attic of my heart;
still there collecting dust,
lasting through the rain and the rust.
Then when hes sick or in pain
I get shocked and start to regain
my father-daughter connection to him.
I miss him more when we are together
then when I am away,
hoping this feeling is here to stay.

You would think we would've learned
after all the cliches and displays
of love lost and then missed.

I hate it
that it takes disaster for the world to realize
God is our only hope.
In the mean time, we cling to religion
until tragedy hits and turns routine into fiction.
No more beads to pray with,
no scientists to turn miracle into myth.
Just hope for that everlasting love
never truly found on earth, so eyes turn to Thee above.

MKS

Change gon Come

Maybe it's me
for years, i've adopted an ideology and blamed it on my biology
men stand alone
but maybe its just me
i think the world is against me, but im finding out that im against it
a time ticking bomb, time and life moves on, and i resent it
know that time is money but don't know how to spend it.
blamed love for the lack there of, yet ignore it's presence from the Lord above
Stood stagnant, wouldn't budge
through a tug a war, my soul wanted to find its better half, tryin to pull my heart
ego forcefully pullin it back, relationships fallin a part
so i turn emo, feed off hate, highlight battle scars
rich in pain,blamin the lord for dealin me black cards
Life's hard, but harder when u need to be consistent
but life consists goals whose plans are non existent
i apologize, for lookin at the world with bitter eyes
lookin at my blessings and still think that im terrorized
its a mind state, i wish were simple to overcome
think the start is to always remember that im his Son.
word

Temporary Grasp

Reaching for a hug, your arms wrap around me, enveloping me once again
with thoughts of tender moments passed. I miss you, and I can tell you miss something
about me. Maybe its my presence, because lately when you are around,
your lungs cant seem to get enough air, trying to breath in every ounce of me.
Maybe it is my warmth, because your hugs get longer and stronger with every embrace.
Like it is the last time you will ever lean your chin on top of my mane, hold my waist, feel the tickle of my curls breeze across your arms, you memorize my body's connection to yours.
It could be the comfort you feel when you pull away and cup my cheek with your hands
that know me just as well as your eyes. Remembering how it was to lay around for hours just to be close, your eyes change and tell me how lonely you are. I start to pull my hand away from yours, but you refuse to let go, like it is going to take away the love I have for you. It is late,
so I say goodnight, and you walk away quickly, never turning back. I struggle to walk the other way, feeling as if we are magnets and our connection is to strong to separate. I get far enough, the pull releases, and we part into our own lives once again, only to hope for another embrace.

MKS

The Rob T-Shirt

Faded
into shades of brown and gold,
your ironed image
draws curious attention like an antique.
Your printed face surrounded by a white canvas
can still light up a room.
The charm behind your smile,
the spirit in your ember eyes,
cannot be expressed or erased.
Since you are unforgettable,
you are undefinable.
A young man who can never be replaced,
just embraced, even from just a glance
at an aging t-shirt.
People still want to know who you are,
and I can not give them a clear answer.
I just tell them you're my brother,
because if I even started to try
to describe who you are,
I could go for hours, but it still wouldn't be enough.
So I keep your memory alive in my heart
and let your picture do the talking.



Seven years since the last day I saw you, but it feels like seven decades!
Love you, Rob!

Remember Me

I never felt so close before
until i was closed out.. door shut
and slammed right on my heart
the pain in vein
my relationship with God tells me to love like I've never been hurt before
and since he blesses me
allowing the muscle of life to repeatedly beat
i repeat the offense, allowing myself to forray uninhibited into relationships
Unenviable friendships of
unevenness
Sometimes misleading
I hope, someday I'll be repayed, always allowing my friends to convey
their deepest feelings
but where were you when I needed it
When my eyes bled
streams of unenviable tears repetitously fell down my cheek
A feelin so unique
To a man, whose had 20 yrs to grasp and understand the fact that
men don't cry
but on this day, I couldn't help it
the words from my mother were like venom
poisoning my soul, and the result
were an aray of tantalizing thoughts, and pain that for years i've tried to hold
she was worried, about my demeanor, wanted me to get meaner
said the world is cold
don't sacrifice yourself if you yourself can't suffice
don't allow yourself to be misused and abused
these christian principles you follow find shallowness in this world in which hearts are hallow.
and as i struggled...with my identity. my lifestyle.. my essence
wondering why I strive to do right when others don't care if how they treat me was wrong..
emotionally unstable
psyche strangled
no one was there
nobody cared
life just went on...

a brother with a complex

have you ever met it

the obstacle that stands tall in front of you but is invisible

have you ever tried to ignore it, like a call from an unrecognizable number

then eventually realized that your only blocking your calling

people always say life is like a movie

somethin between disney and them rated r flicks

somethin between a luv story or a mind altering documentary

well if i told the story

from the directors cut

id make sure to send a message of power

conveying that the thing that has many constantly sustaining cuts and bruises

the thing that always stops the progression of a movements

a lifestyle of emptiness

no fuel to burn ur passionate fires

fluctuating faith and a life of unfulfilled desires

is fear

I wish that I could lie
say my heart didn't beat faster when you were around
That our hands never touched
That seeing you wasn't more than enough
To make my previously empty soul feel saturated
With happiness
Like my stomach wasn't in need of food.. u were more than eye candy.. ur auora nourished me. made me full
of words attached to children on the night before Christmas
your presence was God's gift to me
Him blessing me with Godly love meant a lot to me
I wish I never got excited when your name popped up on ur phone
Never bolted to another room
In need of privacy because I was involved with something so sacred
I wish we never hugged like we used to
Remember I used to press ur heart against my chest, holding onto your soft hair
whispering in your ear
if you felt the throbs of love my heart sent
Even as a writer it was you that made me believe that actions speak louder than words
Because when actions didn't miror words
I couldn't help but feel the opposite of that four letter words

O M G

sorry.. i've kind have been 'overposting' recently.. right now im in the lib.. tryin to bang out my first profile piece.. and i was just tryin to find somethin to listen to on youtube.. so obv.. i searched drake.. and i just clicked on this track... i mean.... the dude is just.. idk.. he just doesn't make bad music... he's just on some other stuff.. i literally was cheesin after the first verse.. i had to put down my headphones and walk around the library.. just to get my body warm cuz dude was just too cold... but everytime i sai i'm feelin someone everyone else gotta be like "y u on his jock." u can't even like another dude's music without bein dissed or called somethin that i'd have to PAUSE. lol.. aiight here's the track.. judge for urself..btw jazziye fizzle i see ur comments! i never kno how to respond cuz their so.... jazmin... i do wanna sai thnx for the luv... and im glad u can relate with the poems (this is my polite wai of saying STOP TRYNA TAKE CREDIT FOR MY WISE WORDS! j/k.) back to drizzy tho

in progress: what i've learned

i learned that drunken girls get exploited by overeager guys and in the aftermath try to hide that they were victimized
its always hard to look through a victims eyes, and harder for them to let pride subside
so they mask pain, find comfort within lies, espouse laughter find terror within cries
embedded in their psyche is that their feelins don't matter so their shortage of self appreciation is only a natural disaster
i learned that most college girls are tryna find themselves, but look for men to determine their self wealth
so their expedition turns into a search for mr wright
on that wrong plight
They determine that they cant be fine by themselves
i learned that most girls hearts are in relationships with dudes their mind knows they shouldn't have relations with
i learned that most dudes are kids satisfied with doing anything they can get away with,
their conscience needs growth, they have humility just need that tough luv to get them to display it
i learned that most dudes are smarter than woman ever give them credit for, females point out our immaturity to hide their insecurities, to convince themselves they havent settled for grown men they abhor
i learned that sometimes bein distant will render u as different
as haters conspire, fulfill their desire to make others seem inferior
Its merely to compensate for shallowness, they need something to fill their interior
and though its hard not to reproach, i adopted the approach to still show love, breakin the barrier

side bar
people say you hate the one's you love. i fear that most love those who they should hate. Their relationships are technically flawed, trying to establish a relation with hatred. disregarding the ugly truth, that they are looking for the beauty that relationships exemplify, in someone they abhor. but their eyes are blind, because thats how love is. so in an attempt to feel out, feel loved and feel comforted, they feel pain. desperately searchin for solid ground, but remain dwelling in a place uncertainty, slipping and losing their desire to get back up on their OWN two feet.... must be black ice, or a silver lining that they choose to consistently ignore.

As a journalism student about to embark on my senor year at the University of Massachusetts,I feel its only right to ne a bit reflective on my college experience. As a freshman I entered the vast campus as an undeclared student with equally prodigous aspirations, incapable of being told that my goal to fix all the problems in the world was a bit far fetched. My two loving parents
uttered words that many others in their position would, urging mme to stay grounded, relating the fact that a secure future is something that you want to bank on.
I swear I wasn't trying to be rebellious when I chose journalism as my career path.
My three years at Umass has been an invaluable experience, as I have been able to pick the minds, and delve into the bank of knowledge of some of the finest journalism mines the school has to offer. The process has been eye opening, as it has introduced me to a world, that is emerging and subletting at the same time. One that remains unbounded with no glass ceiling, one that satisfies my desires to utilize the skills that the university has equipped me with and
accomplish something illustrious. This summer of 2009, I became a member of the Media Giraffe Project, in attempt to help in their effort to shed light on those creating a better tommorow for others. Being able to profile others who made such innovative ideas come to fruition for the sake of democracy is full of worth.

ive got an idea

I am really excited that I have caught a breeze of inspiration to start writing again. It has been quite awhile, and even though my last post was quite random, I think it sparked something. For some time I have been really discouraged about writing my story about my sister. The words don't come out right, and its been a struggle between my soul and my brain. I want to write it so bad, and feel like the more time that passes, the more inaccurate my account of everything that happened is going to be. At the same time it just doesn't feel right to write about it when my thoughts aren't racing to come out while I punch the keys. So I have been at a stand still with that.

Due to this form of what you could call "writer's block," I have been deliberating on trying to write something fiction. I have never really written in this genre before and find it very intimidating. I am not sure if I have the imagination to come up with a whole story on my own. Plus I want it to be good, so that adds a whole other layer to dig through. It just seems like a smart thing to try out. So whenever I am pondering, which is usually while I am in bed, or in the middle of doing something, I think of ideas to write about. Tonight while I was laying in bed, pouting over the fact that I was ditched in a way from a dinner date, and watching tv, an idea randomly popped into my head.

A book. That is my idea. To write about being a book. I mean, it sounds kind of lame. But think about it. Being a book is almost like being a fly on a wall or invisible. It connects with the person while they read the story. We are almost conversing with the book while we read it. We are talking inside of our heads, and reacting to the words the book says. I catch myself laughing out loud while reading all the time as if the book made a joke. And crying too, as if it broke my heart. I think watching a person while they read says a lot about who they are. So I want to write a story through the metaphorical eyes of a book. I am actually really excited about the idea, because it is stirring so many thoughts in my head! It could actually be really good.

Now all I gotta do, is start..... oye

MS

a new start

Today is a new start to the rest of the year for me. Seems weird since it is the middle of July, but school is just a month away, and a huge change is in the process. Tony, the love of my life, officially moved out of my apartment last night. It felt so lonely and weird after we said goodbye. It could have been the meds I am taking for this asthma-related illness I have that was intensifying the reality of the situation, but I was alone again.

We decided to give our relationship to God. That was the way we put it, instead of saying we are simply breaking up. Maybe that is the problem. I don't know what to think about it. I am single, but still committed to one person. Is he? I am not sure. We said we are going to work on our relationship, start over and build it back up. But what if he decides he likes his freedom being single? We may never come back together.

I know I am thinking too hard about this. I am not good adapting to new situations, especially when it means I am alone again. It is not all bad though, this whole independence thing coming back. I have realized that I need to refocus my life. My world revolved around him. But now it has to be all about me. I need to hang out with my friends more. Make more friends too. I need to focus on my Senior year in college, and look forward to a career. I need to refocus my faith. No it did not take a back seat or get weakened by my relationship. I feel like I hindered it from growing even stronger.

So once I get physically healthy again, I am going to work on getting emotionally, mentally, and socially healthy again. I need that superwoman power I once had back. And maybe when that is complete, my love will come back to me.

MS

Shist
I just saw cupid shoot his arrow
its heading in my direction and i dont know what to do
who openly accepts getting speared
with no armor to protect
the only thing that keeps you going
i must runaway
or is that an aimless plight like a runaway's
can't avoid the inevitable
so why delay, dismay my soul
guess ill take it like a man
and watch luv unfold

mj tribute

Even these words I type in the aftermath are a far too calculated attempt to capture the raw emotions that overwhelmed my mind and body when my mother broke the news.
Ironically she alerted in her native tongue, which on most days I struggle to comprehend, but the death of Michael Jackson transcends, impacting the world. My brothers accounts of Jackson sounded mythical, like long legends, but now the world is pop legend less.
Death, the simplest word to read, yet hardest one to grasps had me feeling so……awkward for lack of a better term. It wasn’t as though I didn’t feel like everyone elses facebook status, but even my usual urge to let the ink bleed was tempered by this surreal state of being. I was discovering that the news coverage and not the actual news was making me kind of… angry.
The contrived expressions of remorse felt about as authentic as one of those news anchors trying to Moonwalk. My biggest problem with America is that it’s the constant counter puncher, always reacting to the harshest blows adequately, but never taking precaution to avoid them in the first place. I’m sick of the world’s wrongs being accepted as right. Sick of the insatiable being coerced into my mouth, and being told that’s just how life is.. I’m just mad that it had to take death for people to look past the face and inside the musical soul that Michael possessed. The menacing media needs a facelift as its distorted attempts to save face in the wake of Jackson’s death garner anomalous feelings. It was the media who sought to dehumanize him and portray him as a monster, but now its their incessant attempts to belittle that haunts my ability to remember his life.
The BET and MTV marathons were running away from the way they had previously presented Jackson to a younger generation. It’s as if after only after his passing his named had earned legitimacy, because legitimately, I can’t remember those stations bringing up his name unless it was the part of a joke. They are party responsible for the stigma attached to his name, the void that a younger generation has in understanding the power of Michael Jackson’s music. So their attempt to make me remember the times, only had my mind remembering the punch lines, and the unprecedented scrutiny that MJ had been under for most of my lifetime.
No doubt, Michael had a lot that were far too visible. I had become adept to were the jokes and spectacle that replaced the genius and prodigal image that Michael Jackson once represented. But all it took was a couple songs to make me become sentimental, for my eyes to engage in battle to fight off tears.
The scary thing is that it wasn’t a classic, or one of those songs that made you really remember Mike. My oversensitive self was getting teary eyed listening to “You Rock My World.” The emptiness came back, bullying my usually jovial spirits and the pit of my stomach became filled with guilt. I wanted to partake in the remembrance, wanted to relive his classics, wanted to remember exactly he became a global icon. But why did he have to die to make me understand, what I should’ve never taken for granted. God’s gifts. Now people claim he left to early, but he left on God's time.

nothing

nothing to write
nothing to say
not feelin right
and its the same every day

wake up
work
no play
cuz when we make up
it doesnt work
and we go back to the same old ways
we bicker
fight
ignore the issues
then i get sicker
of sittin tight
and lookin for tissues

Thirsty

"The deepest principle in human nature is the craving to be appreciated." William James

I was looking online for quotes on appreciation, since my words are lost in the lack there of, and I stumbled on many which were relevant to my present state. However, the one that was so simple and quite abrasive was by William James. At first I wasn't convinced with the concrete statement that it is, without question, the deepest principle. I decided to look up who Mr. James was to see what kind of man would be bold enough to say this with such authority. I was immediately drawn to ponder this idea more thoroughly when I learned that William James is one of the earlier influential psychologists in the field. So he must know what he is talking about!

Even though I have never heard or read of James in my undergraduate psychology major career, I knew he must have been in love to come to this conclusion. He studied Pragmatism, which goes to say he needed some kind of mind fogging effect to understand the need to be appreciated, and then quoting it as the deepest principle of human nature. Love is the ultimate form of appreciation. When you say 'I love you,' it is saying more than just you mean so much to me. It is saying I am grateful you are in my life. It is a intimate way of saying 'thank you.' Thank you for everything you do and everything you are. Thank you for being a part of my life. Thank you for changing my life.

I may seem out of bounds to a lot of folk, but I am sure James would understand completely. He understands that when you love someone, it is genuine, and unforced. It is not like an Indian Giver who shares their greatest treasure with you for a moment, but steals it back once they miss it. Love can't be returned. It can't be exchanged. When it is true, it is permanent. That is why it is never ending, even when it isn't being given back. See people think that love can run out, like when a well runs out of water. But the love isn't represented by the water; it is the well. The strong walls that wrap around the tunnel that runs deep into the ground. The well holds the favors, the special little things, the major I-got-your-back things, the gifts, the tears and grief that come with a broken relationship... Even when all those things run out, the well still remains, even if it is empty.

So what does this have to do with appreciation? Appreciation is the rain that fills the well. It is the fuel to keep the love strong and abundant. It is when that loved one uses their own water to fill your well. Any small favor, any sweet lil nothing in the ear, a small kiss on the forehead; they are all appreciation, little 'I love you's' to let you know that you matter. And those can't be forced either. So I guess my main dilemma, bringing this all up, is what happens when the rain stops falling? The love is still there, but its dry and arid. How does the person who drinks from the well survive?

MS

Throwin down

My thought process is forever changing like leaves in autumn, so if I seem to contradict myself, please realize it's only natural. I am only human and as I grow up and meet new people, the observer in me manifest itself as I pick up new ways of approaching and analyzing trivial matters. These thoughts I'm currently recording, stem from a conversation I had with a friend/mentor (i have many mentors). I would provide a lot background about him, but you really don't need to know much besides, when identifying himself he throws out two distinct and defining labels. Christian first. Black male second.
So one day we're discussing a lot of different things in his car. And when I say we're discussing, it means that he's talking and I'm doing nothing more than listening and adlibbing on occasion. My ears are perked wide open. They become like lungs because all I want to do is intake every air of wisdom that this dude has to offer...until we start talking about violence.
This is where I have to provide a little background.
My boy grew up in the Bay Area of California. If Dre and Snoop songs haven't alerted you, crime statistics and homicide rates in the state of California will. The city of angels is unfortunately a city where violence subsides as well. Violence was very much a part of the environment he grew up in and he believes encountering dangerous situations helped him mature into a man.
He stated that adversity and politics that the streets provided helped him overcome the unfair politics that society provide. He also threw out several statements about the most misused (R) word in the black community, respect. As I continued to keep quiet and let his words sink in, inside my body was a great sense of rage.
This last r word and my personality are usually incompatible, except when the issue of violence is brought up. Glorification of violence in music and television affect me more than it does most Americans. I hate (and please be aware of the strength of the word) how as a country we accept problems, and then when something traumatic happens finally look to solve them. From an 11 year old boy getting bullied and then committing suicide, to Columbine, to street shoot-outs killing innocent victims. They are all intertwined, because we carefully wrap dark images around the psyche of our young one's. We embrace this animalistic ideal of what toughness is, and for some reason submit ourselves into a thinking that is anything but progressive.
I must acknowledge that I grew up in a neighborhood that wouldnt recognize violence unless it slapped it in the face. My parents taught me to earn the respect of only elders through school and good deeds. I don't think they ever once mentioned trying to attain it from my peers or the streets. But at the same time, as a black male, I was not completely disconnected from the fruition of a deadly black stereotype. Growing up, I had friends who gang banged, but internally I knew they weren't gang bangers. I've seen street fights one day, turn into a bunch of people packing knives the next. I know people who have been stabbed, people who have been shot at. There not that different from me. It's just that their path to maturity and success got derailed. That aggression that could have been channeled in a much more positive way, somehow escaped their body and manifested itself in a dark one.
I was always the one who as my peers rushed to the playground when a fight broke out, stayed back and wondered why do we love to see each other get battered and bruised. I always tried to avoid the temptation of hitting someone because I was scared of the consequences. Not merely in terms of the fight that day, but both the mental and psychological battles that ensues eafter. Explanations to my family of why I let my emotions get the best of me, coupled with the awkwardness of seeing the people I beefed with every day, and most of all, looking in the mirror and knowing that I allowed someone's words to break me, not physically but mentally.
So back to the two dudes in the car. By this time he's explaining how he wants his kids to get into fights and be challenged. And I just let it out. " Fighting is repulsive!"
I didn't care if I sounded bourgeoise or soft. I didn't care if I was disrespecting a culture, or if he was going to get Latin Kings to come to Amherst. Well that would be kind of scary. This was personal. For years I've described myself as a black male, so he may have thought, I accepted violence as second nature. But being black and a male is the very reason why I hate violence altogether.When you see friends adopting a lifestyle in which violence becomes their second language, words can't express how frustrating it is.
It may have been bad diction to use the word repulsive. I probably really should have used a term like pointless or stupid, but this dude is pretty smart so I was trying to show off my vocab and relay a strong message with a word poignant and potent.
Anyways this is how I felt a couple days ago.
I kind of feel wrong today. Its hard to judge. Respect is important, and maybe fighting helps some people. It could be key to developing character and manhood. However, it's not like we look back at history and say " Ghandi and Martin Luther King jr. were soft dudes."'
After all they went hard for the greater good of their people. And so will I some day.
jdote

Saturday Sunday

I honestly feel like I encounter some form of racism everyday. Maybe it's just because the topic is always on the mind. My subconscious makes me conscious of things that most people are unaware of. Or maybe what I am dubiously witnessing is truly not there. I remember one of my mentors growing up, Worcester State professor Sid Buxton, used to break down practically everything on Saturdays to minority high-school students in a program called Upward Bound (or as we liked to call it UB). In doing so Sid would dissect puzzling issues step by step, making sure that we understood matters from the ground up. The meticoulous nature in which he would approach each subject is something that everyone respected. His knowledge was seemingly never ending, and he always had stories to back up what he said, like in his spare time he researched his research.
Nevertheless one day, he touched upon the black expectancy rate, and more specifically health issues that are harming the black community. Amongst the most fatal was heart disease. Sid took a break from his usually thorough analysis to say something so simplistic, that it almost made too much sense.
"The black man in America always has questions in that one question in the back of his head.. Is it because I'm black. We constantly have to worry and protect ourselves, but at the same time we need the help of others. Health care. Job security. etc. The question of causes an overwhelming amount of stress. High blood pressure, heart failure, where do you think that stems from." (im paraphrasing... just slightly).
I bring this up several years later, because I feel the burden of that paralyzing question far too often. No longer do I ask 'is it because I'm black', because I hate asking questions I already know the answer to.
For instance, two Sundays ago, I was in church, of all places. trying to get my Godly worship on, when the 'ISITCUZIMBLACK' question escaped the back of my mind and pounded my frontal lobe. The uneasy feeling that race issues garner took my mind and body hostage, near the end of service, just before I was about to get nourished by feasting on the bread and the whine. Before doing so however, you must engage with your fellow congregation members in an offering of peace with one another. Honestly, this is always one of my favorite times in a church service because it's so genuine and positive. To see people embrace in peace even if it is ritualistic and just a simple handshake is always great. Anyways, on my mission to dap up everyone in sight, there's this old man with an older woman.
Jovially, in the spirit of Christ, I extend my hand to the man first.
The result:
Hand meet air.
Perplexed I looked at him and he looked back with a cheapish smiled. With my spirits a little dampened, I still mustered up the courage try and shake the elderly woman's hand next to him. The result: Hand have some more air.
The sanity that church always brings me couldn't prevent the onslaught of questions that my mind was about to run through. Yes, it was that simple to bring me from being cool calm and Christ like, to being contemplative.
Go ahead say it:
"We're not in the 60's anymore"
"My president is black, my Lambough's blue, brother"
I'm ecstatic about both statements, and I hope the two non hand shakers are too. They could have had perfect excuses. They could have hands plagued by arthritis. They both could have had swine and didnt want it to spread..
Idk, whatever it was, the action made me start thinking of what Sid said. Every Saturday Sid would say something genius. He's pretty much the black Nastradamus. However what he said that one Saturday has stayed with me like a lingering problem
Maybe because its a problem that's almost incorrectable. Rooted in our nation's history, and consequently planted in the mind.
JdotE

Trees

Trees
essential to living
key to our downfall
paper makes the world go round
or does it circumscribe the mind
fresh air, clouded by smoke
refeshing, destressing
light trees
love leaves
love life
love death

Support

columns,
pillars,
walls,
2x4's,
foundations,
installed.

time,
patience,
love,
discipline,
guidance,
and the Lord above.

i need columns of time
and pillars of patience,
walls built with love
to keep up with the hardships.

i have your foundations of guidance,
so no more 2x4's of discipline.
You installed the faith of the Lord above
and that isn't turning loose or giving in.


so just rest your soul and be there for me.
dont doubt the beams you set under me.
I will turn into the temple you built me to be.


MS

very random rap

I feel inspired

But maybe im just tired

From all that’s goin on

But Ima write this lil song

Anyway, so I can get it out of my head

And go to bed

Before these words go dead…

I think about your mistress all the time

Cuz I hate sharing you, and I lie all the time

Callin you mine, but your not fully,

And she beats up my brain like a bully

Trying to convince me that your love is real

But only with her, because of all the time she steals

From me, keeping you away

From me, causing all this pain

For me, because I never know the day

May come, when you say

Were done, and my tears start to run

Knowing she won. Your heart

Seems to be in two places

And I can’t face this

Because its been three years

Of struggle and tears

To get you on my side,

Hop in God’s ride

and leave your peers’.

I still have faith in you tho

Because you’re trying to let her go

And I just stay around

Hoping that what I found

Inside you will appear

And I can rest my fear

Of losing you.

So for now, I bow

And sit down, after all the work I’ve done

And let God shine his Son

On you, praying

That you love me enough to

Keep us together

MS

What a lady.. spazzin in stats

What a Goddess
Though you lack divinity
you seem like the forgotten member of the holy trinity
definitely the women that graced the world and made it beautiful
wut im seeing is the reincarnation
If Christ died for all our sins, then I guess your the vision that saved us, the beauty of creation
Woah, i kind lost track in the metaphores, ive been trained to lose focus... zeroing in on your presence and not your essence.
my eyes focused on your beauty but my mind didnt know
if this pen could reconfigure, or even deliver
something that my heart wouldnt resent, out of fear of misrepresenting u
I am nothing but i've been blessed that i've met u, so i want to be something
a writer, a def poet or something
cuz in essence I would be just following in ur footseteps... u see if word is born, and God created the word, u were the mother who whispered in his ear sweet nothings so it can be made with purity.
im just spazzin
but i'm bless to have met
A mermaid without the gills, a queen without a crown
LC before the hills
A chill young girl more valuable than bills

What a Gentleman

If God were a man I would marry Him.
He opens so many doors,
and even if I'm in a room without any,
He will open a window so I can escape.
He always pays for me,
even when I am not worthy of a blessing
one always seems to end up on my plate.
Sometimes He even gets mad
at me and decides to show tough love.
At least this way I learn my lessons

with love. He does all things

with a purpose. Even the small things
like sending rain drops to kiss my cheek
while the clouds keep thundering,
just as reminders that He is still there;
He still cares.
Above all else, He is the best listener.
I can vent, and cry, and whine, and He stays
quiet, never interrupting me
because He knows that any advice
could stop my heart from speaking,
cause my mind to start seeking
the answer which can only be found
where He rests. In between the beats,
He speaks in the silence of my heart.

MS

Easter

The sun has risen another day
and I am standing in its shining rays
because it represents one of the many ways
the Lord has changed my life.

He stood waiting
in the dark, never deliberating
if he would be able to rise, but celebrating
because he knew it would change my life.

He endured all the broken sin
to save his Father's children from all their sins
knowing in the end that He would win
and become Lord of my life.

When he rose up from the dead
all the true believers rejoiced and said,
Amen! Amen! Amen! over again,
He is the Lord of Life!

The son has risen another day
and I am shining in his rays
because it represents one of the many ways
The Lord gave me life.

MS

Trusting the Big Guy

God works in mysterious ways. That is the only fact of life I can cling to right now. Today's facebook devotional that I read was about how even though one part of your life may have failed, you must push forward and realize that it is not the only part of your life. God sees the big picture, and each failure or upset to your plan, is God's way of telling you to follow His plan. Each bump in the road is like a stepping stone to your brighter future.

Today, my plans for my college future crashed and burned. A practicum course that was supposed to set me up for an internship that would have hopefully turned into a career has now been taken away from me. When it all comes down to it, it was my own fault. I should have prepared my four years of college starting my freshman year, instead of starting my junior year. If I was more proactive than I was, I would be all set up for success. Unfortunately, I fell into a slum that most college students fall into. I waited too long to really care about my future outside of academia.

I was really upset earlier when I realized during signing up for my fall courses that I wouldn't be able to take that practicum. If I did, it added too many extra hours and would cause me to graduate a semester late. I can not afford an extra 12,000 dollars for one course. But then I read that devotional and it just made me realize that I was trying to take things into my own hands. I wasn't letting God guide my future entirely. I know that He will provide for me after I graduate, so I do not need a practicum course to guarantee a successful future. He sees the big picture that I am not able to, so I am going to trust Him to work it all out for me. I feel great now knowing that I am letting some unnecessary stress go, and letting God take care of the small and big things for me. In the end all I need is my faith, and I am good!

MS

Spazzing

Strangled by a chord
Air becoming harder to find
A stranger to anger
choked up by feelings that can't be repressed
upset
that his words can not meet the world
My mind mirors my face
becoming darker and darker
wanting nothing more than to simply escape
but life is looking to do the same thing
And my heart is starting to race
Sounding less rhythmic and more destined for failure
And school taught me I'd pass at 70
and feeling the lows of lows at twenty is unacceptable
but i'm feeling that way because school taught me
how to contrive and connive
but never to speak

At work spazzin

its true.. ive never felt heart break
waiting for luv so long ive been prone to feel heart ache
but yet my heart burns with a passion for this writing stuff
as i seek to deliver
a poem as beautiful as Matthew's scripture
i close each poem with a kiss
so my lips prove to my heart that love exists
each time i try to have my way with words, sometimes forcing the relationship,
pursing my lips, trying to make out with life
trying to understand why i've been blessed with this ability to make out life
no i've never felt heart break,
but i've seen tears drip from eyes intoxicated with despair, trying desperately to compensate
and each time i tear into this thing i love
my heart intensifies
which is when i realize
my heart is a pen in disguise
born in Lowell, but wit a philly soul, a brotha with luv, which you can see from what my penn states
Like I was born with a Pen-cil-vein that makes me stand out
and its purpose is to help me stand up!

iamnothing

My Destiny (as God chooses it to be)

My future is today.
So many decisions
to make, me
or break me.
I realized awhile ago
that college is not the best
four years of your life.
If they are,
then why am I wasting away
all this money (time)
to set up for the worse rest of my life.
So I decided to work
harder, and stay
focused. My dreams
more defined. My plan
on point.

My future was made up yesterday
when I made the decision
to reason with reality
but rely on Redemption.
He who knows my struggle
gave it to me as a blessing
to be. The best
things come the hardest ways.
It is a journey
of trust and faith.

You hold your destiny in your hands.

Yes, but for me, He who made these hands shall guide them.

MS

unanswerable questions

Ever since the 9th grade I knew my purpose in life was to write. I have been thirsting to record about the most tormenting period of time that changed who I was and how I viewed the world. The problem is, it has been almost seven years, and I don't have anything concrete to show for this goal. I have written numerous short stories and poems about it, and I figured that after college I would have enough material to sit on and finally bring together a fluent story. Well I am graduating next May, and by the looks of it, I barely have enough material to make up a chapter.

Recently over the past year or two I have had another idea simmering in my brain that would be a great story to tell as well. At first I thought it might just be easier because it was not as emotional to write about as was that critical period in my life. However, after seriously trying to start it has become quite clear that no matter what idea I come up with, writing a book is a daunting task.

I have met a few writers through my creative writing program at college, and all them have said the hardest obstacle to overcome when trying to write a book is accepting the fact that it is not as impossible as it seems. It is possible. I mean there are thousands of books out there that someone had to sit down and write. At the same time though, in my mind it seems incomprehensible that I am capable to write a book that would portray my story the way I want to. It is very intimidating, trying to write something with the perfect words. And even if I do finish and feel good about it, are other people going to want to read it? At this point I am depending on my family and friends to commit to buying 10 copies each. Then there is the fact that I just spent thousands upon thousands of dollars to go to college and study writing. It is as if it is mandatory for me to write a book because if I don't I have failed my parents, my supporters, and my education.

So what is a young amature writer to do? How do I overcome the odds and the pressure to do what I was born to do? I guess for now, just pray.

MS

Proof...

I have never been one to really try to debate about political issues. But when I saw this video on an old friend's facebook (my piano teacher from a long time ago!) it just brought me to tears. It confirmed my belief about the death penalty.

My President Obama's view on the death penalty is that it should not be utilized except in the most heinous of crimes. Unfortunately I do not agree.

I believe there should not be such a thing as the death penalty. For one reason in itself, it is hypocritical of our government. We have a law that if you kill someone, you go to jail. It is a crime. Even in some instances, if you kill someone on accident it is a crime. So then how come the federal government can decide that someone should be killed? Does two wrongs make a right when it comes to murder? They give that criminal a day and a time when they will be killed. That is a planned murder. Please tell me how this brings justice!

I believe there is only one true Judge in this world, and only He can say when it is someone's time to pass.

Now if you still need more of an explanation than that, let me tell you. God made every man and soul on Earth. He knows that for some people, it takes a little more to help them understand who He is. There are so many criminals in this world because people have been blocking out the Light, and without the Light comes Evil. Through Evil there is hate, and with hate there are crimes as malicious as murder. Once a person is brought so low to this hole that they are lying in a pit, or a 3 x 5 cell, there can be light. A soul can be saved. When there seems to be no way, God can make a way. A person can find God in prison.

People don't understand that you are not just taking away someone's physical life with the death penalty. You are taking away their eternal life. You are taking away their last chance to find what truly sets you free from this world. So instead of taking away their life, just take away their physical freedom, so they may be able to find their eternal freedom, through Him.
MS

The oversimplified.... jet li

One university
One student
One body
One word
Like beauty or
N************
One stereotype seen by two eyes
one sight
One label
model or minority
one model minority
one vision
One country
One black
One white
Two sides
One wrong
One right
One war
Two results
One victorious
One defeated
one way to be misleaded
One death
Civil Rights
One time, tick tock
One month
One life
One God
One Father
Wait... two fathers
Two parents
one family
One heart
Mindful words destined for
Two ears
One mind
One perception
Two steps
One direction
One destiny
One poem, one mic
One luv
One
Peace

just somethin a lil different... after watching this poem, i realized i forgot to put manhood.

25 Things About Me (A Narrative)

Yesterday was the first meeting of my Creative Non-Fiction Class since the tragic accident that took one of our classmate's lives. It was so awkward, walking into the classroom, sitting down around the table, looking at her empty chair. It took everything I had to keep from getting emotional during the moment of silence we held for her. So many thoughts were going through my head, and all I could feel was the same pain I knew her family, especially her little sister was going through at that very moment. Today I decided to go onto her blog and see what kind of stuff she posted on there, and turns out one of the exercises we did in class was there. Our teacher found out about the phenomena happening on facebook where people wrote 25 things about themselves and sent it around for everyone to read. Our job in class was to do the same thing, but in narrative form. So our 25 facts would turn into a rather short story, since we only had about 15 minutes to write it. After re-reading hers on her blog, it made me want to post mine. So, here it is, and with only 21 facts because I can't remember all 25!

1. My best friend and I joined a basketball team in 5th grade.
2. We only won two games, one being a forfeit.
3. Half way into the season, I jammed my finger and had to tape it to a popsicle stick for two weeks. I wasn't able to play for a few games, but I was a great cheerleader for the team.
4. After that season, I decided I wanted to play basketball on a collegiate team. It was my new dream.
5. I wanted to try out for my high school team my freshman year, but decided not to after my sister was in a car accident and needed my support to recover.
6. Sophomore year, I did try out and made the freshman team.
7. I played point guard the first game, and was horrible.
8. I was changed to a shooting guard. Much better.
9. Four games into the season, I sprained my knee.
10. I wasn't able to play for the rest of the season, but was a great scorekeeper!
11. My doctor told me that I should stay away from sports. The risk of injuring my knee permanently was too great.
12. My Sophomore year in college my friend convinced me to be co-captain of a co-ed flag football team.
13. Four games into the season, I sprained the same knee all over again.
14. I couldn't play the rest of the season, but resumed my role of team cheerleader!
15. My junior year, I decided to try just exercise.
16. After a few weeks, my back was aching so bad I couldn't get out of bed.
17. The doctor told me I most likely had ankylosing spondilitis, a rare blood disorder that produces extra bone on the spine and ribcage.
18. I quit exercising.
19. This year, I started to exercise once again, since the pain has been absent for awhile.
20. I asked my PE teacher what exercises to do to reduce the risk of injuring anything.
21. So far I haven't hurt anything. Not yet anyway :)


MS

Life is Short

Older folk always tell me, you are so young! You have so much life to live, don't worry about stuff too much now. I just shrug my shoulders and nod my head. No use in trying to make them understand how there is no guaranteed lifespan. There is an unwritten societal rule that one shouldn't worry about anything too seriously until they reach an age of maturity, such as 30 or 40. And since most of those who say this to me have already surpassed this age, they forget that some people never do.

Today I have noticed a small trend that has occurred over the past eight years of my life. Every two years, at least one person I know in some way, shape, or form has been killed by a car accident. Each time it hits me differently, and today is one of the times where a part of me just hurts. I learned through an email from my creative writing non-fiction professor, that a classmate passed away on Saturday from a car accident. I didn't know her well, but enough that I felt something. You learn a lot about a person from their writing, especially non-fiction, because each piece they share is a piece of themselves. I remember that classmate's one story I was fortunate enough to critique, and it was a ode to Wal-Mart and how much she hates it. It was a rather funny piece and it really showed how blunt, sarcastic, and relatable she was. In class, she always shared her opinions with us and sometimes when our teacher would start rambling on about absolutely nothing, we would make eye contact and chuckle to ourselves. It was as if we both were sharing the same thought: What the hell is she talking about! Now all I can think about is tomorrow's class, and how different it is going to be. The first thing everyone is going to notice is her empty seat, and how it will remain that way for the remainder of the semester.

I have wondered many times why so many people I know have died in a car accident. Yes, statistically the highest cause of death of people between the ages of 18 and 24 is from an automobile accident. However, for some reason I don't feel that is the right explanation for this weird phenomena. Lately I have began to wonder if God is trying to say something directly to me through these events. I can't figure out exactly what. Is He saying Don't drive too fast. Be careful, this could happen to you! Right now I believe it is just a reminder, telling me that you never know what could happen. Life really is short, and could be shorter than what you think. So I always just keep that in mind and want to make sure that if I am going to die anytime soon, that my last moments were worth it. Every day I wake up is a blessing, and every night that I get to rest my head on a pillow safely and soundly is an opportunity to thank God for being my Sheperd.

RIP
Robert Martinelli II
Courtney Butcher
Kayla Palker
Matt Turgeon
Ryan Young

Water My Life

The therapeutic beauty of an oceans waves strongly contradicts the appearance of its actions
As it ferociously approaches the shore each time Poseidon takes a breath, the only feelings that it seems to conjure up is natural tranquility.
These days, the likelihood of seeing me with a glass of water is equal to the amount calories found in a bottle of poland spring
I hate water
Bottled up emotions did not stream out of my system properly
Tears somehow remained behind sockets whose visions see raw scenes, ducts unplugged from the constant stream of pain that life seems to always ignite
When it rain it pours, so you can only imagine what that feels like to oversaturated pores.
I wish that reality only just hit rid of all of its complexities
That it simply left bruises that can be seen on the exterior
Not something that can build a complex while it lingers in your mind and engages in battle with your interior
Wish that it could be covered up with a band aid or and people could empathize
Instead of notice your actions are different but never ask why?
Feel I've overthought most things people don't think over
But couldn't imagine being thoughtless, my heart controls my thoughts, so if i stopped thinking, id be heartless
Feelings unsettled, my stream of consciousness is suffocated by thoughts of not belonging, somewhere upon growth, i lost traits i thought were innate
Like the fetus who swims effortlessly and grows up into a man afraid of water.

When I was younger,my showers would leave the bathroom, feeling like a sonna
oven hot in the midst of a Massachusetts winter
My parents would open the door and complain of the volcanic heat, as lava like vapor would cover their body, prompting a stone faced reaction
the lack of understanding was frustrating, they didn't know my heart used to be allergic to cold, even the smallest drop released from a chemist's pulpit would make my heart sick
Growing up in a cold word, has made my heart slightly transform
Black ice surrounds it
I blame it when I slip up, and others for not seeing it was there

:(

Never meant to disrespect
My inability to digest the fatal events, rendered me unable to attend to pay my respect
Unable to comprehend the incomprehensible, or understand His reasons that are beyond all understanding.
Instead I stomach guilt and wonder why
Eyes tried to escape tears, mind tried to accept lies
I'd never run into this type of pain, so i figured i'd skip out
Its scared me that in this world.. there's nothing light with death
No gates, and even the most beautiful pearls can't lighten up a mother's heart, or lesson the heart ache

My mind pays for this each day, as often time it trails
Making a B-line towards the past, reminiscing
Almost allowing me to think that from my life you aren't missing
Missed the day in black with the preacher
For fear my heart would be awakened by the wake
Mind finally conscious of what is at stake
Sorry Double S, i think about you all the time
I was thirteen, not tryin to justify just wasnt ready
So in my mind, i tried to keep u alive
And in my heart u r... in a different world but never too far


iWrite

More Jump Off Joe Promotion

After I took an exam on dead poets, I rushed to the store to cop the album that single handedly could resurrect hip hop. Def poetry on wax, is what I was in search of.
No hyperbole needed to explain that on Padded Room, Budden's creativity manifest itself on an array of introspective tracks that most artists these days simply can't even conceptualize. I mean, the album is called Padded Room, how separated from mainstream can you get?
In retrospect, I should've expected Best Buy to not have the album, and saved myself the crowded and uncomfortable bus ride. I've heard him in interviews talking about Amalgam Digital, and how he wants his fans to buy his music digitally. I'll pass, and digitally rip it from limewire if I don't find it soon.
Anyways, this album reminds me a lot of Amy Whinehouse's Back to Black. These two artists got issues! As we all do, and I think that's why I can appreciate their music so much. Battling our demons is never graceful or poetic, yet they make it so by using music. That itself is innovative, but what makes it more unique, is how their bringing these soulful, yet sort of depressing lyrics into their genre of music. These aren't blues musicians or old people with banjos going on about all the problems they face. Amy Whinehouse brought conscious and emotional lyrics to jazz. The beats and beauty of her voice will have you singing along about... smoking weed to get over a bad relationship. Budden is doing this to rap, when the soul of rap is starving. Matter fact, I think its the soul of rap rhyming in these songs that talk about deep depression.

Anyways, once again, enough preaching from me. Here's another track off Padded Room.

Love is a Choice

Love is a choice

Not a feeling, not the passion.
But people today
still tryin to dress it up in a new fashion.
They try to make you believe
it is all about the hugs and kisses
but that shouldn’t be the main factor
when you change your name
to Mr. and Mrs.
People have taken vows
and made them into contracts.
Sign off their names with certain conditions
instead of just simple facts.
For better or worse
is just for the wedding show
but when bad weather rolls in
instead of taking cover
they decide to go.
How is it that you cant choose who you love
but can decide when you’re out of love
and want a divorce.

Isn’t that a choice?

Love is a choice.
Because I choose to be committed.
No matter what you do
the forgiveness is unlimited.
It is when I decide to love you
even when I don’t want to.
I want to hate you, and hit you, and curse you.
I want to run the other way
and leave you because you are wrong.
But I will forgive you and love you anyway
because I hope that when I am wrong
you will feel the same and stay.
God gave me a partner
to love him as He loves me
so no matter what battles come our way
right by your side is where I will be.
Love is a choice
because it doesn’t come and go
like emotions.
I have decided to love you
and I will love you
even when it feels like you don’t love me
because I chose to share my life
and even when things are tough
I’m still proud to be your wife.

MS

Padded Room February 24th

I've been listening to a Jump Off Joe Budden for about two weeks now non stop. I've been sleeping on him hard and I apologize. I'm better than that. He's just nice. Not only does he have creative concepts for his songs, but he knows how to use his voice to convey what emotions he's feeling, a little bit like Lil Wayne without the auto tune. Anyways here's a track off his album coming out tuesday. Judge for yourself so you dont think I have a man crush or something.

Potens, Potentis

Potential
I wish the word had an extra l, so it could really be broken down
Potent is its power for all..
at least everyone who doesn't just try to reach it
but seeks it
tries to not just scratch its surface, but dissect it
and get underneath it
as a country, i wish i could say we've reached it
when obama became president many preached it
but it was days later when i heard whites say the n word
and weeks passed on and i heard a brotha use the c word
that i decided when describing america im never going to use this p word
because once again, the essence of the word is scary
its limitless nature and significance makes it all the more leery
two l's could just enhance the meaning, in showing how it goes both ways
how it can turn for the worst.. smoking ll's, getting high of them cool j's
shot dreams down, and hopes that makes it hard to cope
with yesterdays mistakes, so in misery we soak
drowned with disappointment when failure meets our eyes
wishes stay unfufilled, stars look further and further away in the sky


So words i manipulate and juxtapose
and dress lines with careful diction
make sure my thoughts are fully clothed so they can provide a proper depiction
of what my eyes view as paramount for people to see
People are blinded when too much light presents itself which is irony
hoping that my dreams will materialize
when they seem far fetched when viewed by material eyes

ice

The past is the future's present
see it presents itself in many ways
every day we're urged to live life for tommorow
but in doing so we commit to neglecting the knowledge of our ancestors
render it meaningless to borrow
Buying into an ideology thats nearsighted, the mental equivaleent of fools gold
Often times claim that we've been dealt bad cards in life, when without looking we fold
So in response their souls are forced to dig new graves
so as we continue to bury ourselves, we'll realize our ancestors paved the paths in two ways
America's a country that's been built on deception
Ignorance is bliss, so we tend not to ask questions
And if our eyes dont meet the reality that exists,
our mind will accept a Machiavellian type government, full of lies and tricks
Got us gettin less spiritual
Not beleivin
got our lives full of meaningless rituals
Rehearsed
going non stop in no direction without knowing how to reverse
I get less worried every day about the future
News tellin us we're screwed, i look for the wrench to make it looser
Look to the past, knowing that dreams didnt start with Martin Luther
Knowing that history repeats itself
And if knowledge is key, we should look back, if not only to release ourselves
don't believe in carpe diem but prescribe to dead poets
cuz our society could learn a lot, from Frost and Shakespeare, breaking down society's ills as we know it
I've learned the characteristics of people transcend
So generations will always be plagued by greed and envy, but maybe we adjust the way we can defend
But people fear wut they dont understand
so their old language cant provide a helping hand

Back to Black

Right now
My soul is Montreal.
Although its appearance may be beautiful
Its bitter cold.
And I wouldn't say it glows
If it appears green, its becuz of the dark world it dwells in
take it not as beam of light but as a sign of sickness
My soul is Russia right now
Its on the brink of conflict with the body it dwells in
In a power struggle
To figure out a how to persevere, while preserving its current state.
My soul is Paris night now
A cathedral seems more like a sight, than a place I want to be.
And the Sene River, is a complete fallacy to my soul right now
the most beautiful body of water...
makes my soul's eyes cry, and the rivers breathtaking nature
makes my soul angry that it can't voice the beauty of the world to my body
its weak... and it may be to late to recover
wackness!

Cycling

It's easier than riding a bike
Wheels spinning, but not like the played out rims
my energy is imposing its will on this never ending cycle
A cycle filled with dirty laundry
continuin to turn but incapable of being cleansed
emotions rehashed, resurface,
yet stay unhinged..
worn out tires, but still good to ride out with
like the physical version of a classic track

Been pedaling for awhile, striving to stay steady
despite all the obstacles and obvious stop sign on this path
i continue to take it
Conscious telling my body that it needs it
Physical therapy, as im gone with the wind
enjoyin the breeze that helps my mind deal with the heat
which is probably why i got on
To remind, relive
remember
how passion feels
its true
riding a bike is something you never forget

Sorry

Wuts up world? I apologize for not writing. My bad! I promise to write some more poems, articles, and to get people thinking. But in the meantime.. Black Ice anyone? Dude is nice and real soulful but i hesitate to put his poem up.. Mad N words.. it is black history month afterall..

Great article

I don't know if anyone truly understands the implications of Barack Obama's presidency on Middle Eastern affairs. Maybe my post about a month ago concerning looked to simplistically into the matter, trying to magically derive some sort of solution or prescribe a plan for peace. What about the existing perception of the nation's people and middle eastern affairs within our country? What about trying to understand the type of change that the region has undergone, in even the past decade. In any event, here's an article by the very talented Parisa Saranj, that offers quite a comparison between Obama and Khatami.


http://brighthall.aol.com/2009/02/04/worries-build-for-iranians-obama-vs-khatami/

Sarah Kay

......................

I give up
Like the sun does as a summer's night approaches
Reluctantly leaving but not without leaving its impact in the form of horrid humidity
I leave, frantically running, like a child deciding that home is not home anymore
in hopes that the path that my mind chooses for my legs to travel will have something to do with where i'm destined to be.
Relapsing, reacting without thinking, semi debating, leaving no time to rebuddle
My life mirors that of the abandoned buildings found in the boondocks of the place I call home
No matter how many people drive by and look judgingly, senselessly waiting for them to be annihilated for aesthetic purposes, it stands bravely alone
Cynics depreciate the beauty of life, and realist deliberately develop a plan to battle life's brevity
But I do neither
Perhaps because I've lost hope
Like my hopes for Power Wheels and universal peace, they've all been terminated by the traumatic repercussions of growth
Purity is often perceived as precious as it pertains to kids, but it's essence in relationship or lack their of makes me realize that
The impossible, is indeed just that, impossible
Sarah Kay was wrong.. friendships aren't always worth building despite the splinters you may get

Pillows

Pillows are my best friend
Last nite I dreamt that today was yesterday
When you blatantly confessed your love
I was sleeping with my eyes open
Concentrating on your lips not the words that came out
Comforted by your presence
But in hot flashes i woke up
Mind stuck, with the picture frozen in my mind
Hoping my actions didn't miror the stench of morning breath
Hoping that the chapter that coulda been didn't ended before I even started thinking about the book
Sleeping on a moment that can't be recaptured by poetry
The opportunity can't be recreated, because the opportunist that always needs to be their wouldnt' need it to be
My state of bliss could be a reality
but now i stand on this computer with my pillow by my side trying to sleep away the day
cuz the nightmare that hampered my thoughts is my dream that was right before my eyes

Classic

Old School

Don’t play with my emotions, this is not a game

At least not in my eyes

See there’s a reason why I stress

Constantly second guess

Over things so childish, so meaningless

Out come my 7^th grade like tendencies

Insecurities manifest

Cuz this thing called luv is not guaranteed like life or death

So we must cherish it

Like a long lost treasure

Like a treasure chest embedded deep within our chest

Like Obama and his bullet proof vests

Like the King in a game of Chess

But this is not a game

This is life and death

Where two paths meet, when worlds connect

And minds reflect hearts

And two people accept

An undeniable feeling

So powerful more potent than all other healing

This is love

Sacred like the lord above

And I confess

That though this is not a game

It’s possible the v can be replaced with an s

Yes you can lose

But this is not a game.

2008

This ain’t a rap

Cuz the only good one’s are underground like rail roads

The one’s on radio neglect to show the hood the real roads

They are the feet to the pedal that keeps the never ending cycle of oppression moving

Harlem shaking gambling futures away but still grooving

I call it Rhythmic American Poison

They sai black is beautiful but bombard us with images to the`contrary

They say ‘the man’ holding us down is white

Far from black, has visions of us that aren’t close to bright

Yet our vision of ourselves lack clarity

Tell our kids to reach for the stars, yet raise them in a crazy atmosphere

If Lance Armstrong put his foot on the moon, why limit our kids to this stratosphere

Our lifestyles are barely comprehensible because those who tell it have diction marred by vulgarity,

which makes them unable to give a proper depiction

They sai that knowledge is the key so put it into ignition

Start the engine, head forward into this new millenia of opportunity

Land of the finally free

its time to have unity

And so many miscontrue what it means to unify

To try to identify with people with different thoughts that peculate in their mind

Or different eyes, not in dimension, but in depth perception

Separate is not equally as beautiful as being united

And equal is not nearly as meaningful as living without an equation which constantly fixates itself on whether we as people quantify each other.

My President is Black

So I can't honestly say that the mere fact that my president is black doesn't get me excited. I really don't care if it sounds like black pride on overkill or a bit prejudice. It's beautiful progress. A beautiful picture that some thought would never be painted because of our nation's history. The blood shed, the wars fought, the minds changed over time mandates me to be excited. It proves that though the blemishes of the past are unchangeable the broad scope of our future has limitless possibilities.
That being said, I'm more excited about the type of person our new president is. Remember when George Bush was elected and people said, "he seems like a person that I could have a beer with." I guess that would explain why in his speeches his words were always slurred and his decision making throughout his presidency was so out of touch. Barack Obama doesn't need to put on a facade to relate to the American people and display leadership at the same time. The man has went through hardships and been on the wrong path, but got himself together to ride the path to presidency. And although at times it gets corny, his dedication to change and providing hope to a somewhat lost American public is nothing less than inspiring. To provide a sense of urgency while also conveying a strong sense of comfort makes me happy that the future of this country is in his hands. It's as though the ideals prescribed by this very nation that have over time become a fallacy, have now been reborn. And with everyone just reinvigorated with a strong sense of nationalism, we can finally tackle the problems that everyone wants solved. There's no way this country can get it together, unless we face our problems together, united as one nation.

BET

I got a plan guys

You see we control images, and even perceptions

We control young lives and their direction

We can affect them indirectly

And don’t have to take responsibility

We’re only Tv

So the images that we project that infect young minds

Are like OJ and the gloves they just don’t fit the crime

And I don’t want simply sai it is what is

But if it’s not fathers, we got to identify whose really raising our kids

I got a plan that will assassinate the image of a man

While protecting the man

I have a plan guys

Forget dreams

Cuz my plans will allow me to relax in bed and rest in peace

And the rest, they’ll suffer the consequences and rest in peace

I’ve got a short cut

All they do is cut short our dreams

Soldier

I think sometimes it gets misconstrued.
I don't think M.L.K simply had a dream or a vision
He had a mission,
went to war against all his contemporaries to fight for a better position.
Entered the battle weaponless, well that's if u don't include his voice or mind,
distinctive assets whose strength annihilated many hate crimes.
No need to dream, or imagine
No, he had the bigger picture in mind.

Severely outnumbered he remained ready for war like a guerilla gunner
without the gun
just carried a voice that could break down walls and exterminate barriers unlike anything we'd ever seen.
His potent words sent unidentifiable chills through the spine and into the hearts of a previously impenetrable public.
The symptoms were..warmth to a cold world.

But the rats and pigs wanted him dead.
You know the type of change that he was destined to make happen wasn't embraced..
but he never raised a fist unless it was in a Tommie Smith on the Olympic podium sort of way.
Meaning it meant more than satisfying an urge to precipitate hate.

I've always felt patience was almost a God given virtue
He was a reverend, God's disciple,
And since God is love, he sent a missionary to impose or implement a new way of thinking of the tenth commandment.
Fight a war with no arms because that would only divide us,
Not bring us hand in hand. arm and arm.

Fight temptation in order to face a nation of naysayers to breakdown layers of hatred and trepidation.. of bottled up fear mixed with guilt in order to guide a country
And no law could ever hold him down
because you can't convict someone for being ahead of their time.
And when they sent two bombs to set off his house,
he did not implode
nor did he need to count to three to know his response would be nobel peace.

The day before his life was taken he said he's "Been to the Mountain top."
It's to no one's surprise that he got there
but i don't get the sense that people realize what drastic measures he undertook so that we all could climb..
one day
to the top

IWRITE

Just spazzing its late

When this boy meets world
He'll soon realize that growing pains are not as funny as corey made them out to be
He'll learn that his raw emotion that manifested itself with loud cries as a baby is unacceptable by the age of seven. and that letting all the pain and hurt that ruptures his mind flow out of his eyes, is only reserved for species of other side.
He probably won't understand this and ponder why man should fear nothing but God, do as they please but yet resist the urge to cry, but he'll learn soon enough that out of respect of the natural code of stupidity that men follow he should keep these thoughts inside.
He'll learn that the principle of 'mind over matter' is flawed in its essence because when it matters most your emotions render your mind functionless, or incapable of making the right decisions
He'll learn that a lot of people want to fight, but mire without purpose
He'll learn that society thinks of him as being emotionally incompetant, incapable of feeling but he's merely just emotionally scared from taking this repressing his emotions thing to far.
He'll learn that being tough is overrated but being strong obligatory
He'll learn that Lauren Hill was right. you may think you win some battles but in actuality you really lose them
He'll learn that for some reason we are all born chemically unbalanced with both selfish and sensual desires. That satisfying neither will probably drive him insane but must remember in some cases that sanity on this earth means nothing if we are breaking the rules of our Savior.
He'll learn that a girl will break his heart and though the outside world may tell him that its easily repairable, your not Wolverine. It will take time to put back together the pieces.
He'll learn that the bible is a weapon used to fight off the demons, so when he's old enough to comprehend what the figurative language really means, he'll know that he should always have it on his side.
He'll learn in retrospect that respect is paramount in this world

My Sister's Voice

I felt like an epileptic, with every part of my body trembling, from my lips to my toes. As I made my way to the podium, I negotiated with my nerves to calm just for a few minutes so I could read my sister’s statement for the court. They were hard gamers that day, because I could barely unfold the piece of paper to read off of. I whispered a silent prayer to give me strength before I was interrupted by the judge who asked my name.

“My name is Maegan Serrano, and I am representing my sister today.”

Before I began speaking, I gazed toward the defendant. I tried to make firm eye contact with him, but his eyes preferred to stare at the floor. I looked down at my sister’s words and inhaled a deep breath, hoping to catch some fresh air in the stale, heavy room. As I began to read, it felt as if my voice was separate from me. I couldn’t feel my lips moving, or the words coming off my tongue. It was as if a spirit entered my body and did the talking for me, while I just stood there and endured the painful side effects. All the body heat ran up my veins to my head, making my brain feel too heavy. Palms started clamming up, and heart raced faster than a hummingbird’s wings. Knees started to ache so bad I was worried I would collapse if I moved a millimeter. I didn’t know if I would make though the speech.

When I finally finished, I anxiously made a step forward to leave the podium, but I was stopped once more by the judge. He wanted to understand why I was speaking on my sister’s behalf. I wanted to tell him that it was because my sister wasn’t ready to face the person who flipped her life upside down. She wasn’t ready because she was still mourning the death of her best friend who died right beside her. She wasn’t ready, because the guilty one says it was just an innocent mistake. But I didn’t say a thing because our lawyer rose and answered in the politically correct way:

“Elizabeth is still recovering and requested Ms. Serrano to speak in her place.”

I then proceeded to make my way back to my seat. When I sat down on the dark wooden bench next to my sister, the spirit left from within me, and released all the stinging emotions it kept stored those few moments I spoke. My eyes could no longer hold the floods that stormed along my cheeks and I struggled to keep my cries quiet. Part of me was relieved to know that somewhere deep within me, I had the strength to stand up for my family. As my sister put her arm around my shoulder in comfort, I felt a small reassuring rush of relief that I was able to endure the pain this time, instead of her.

MS (assignment for creative non-fic class)

Another Battle

Though the storm may last through the night, His joy comes in the morning.
Psalms 30:5

I.
I met the devil last night.
The hidden sins he lured the one I love
to commit were coerced to leave their shadow.
As the lies turned into confessions,
each one leaped of his tongue and danced
on my heart for awhile.
Satan laughed, watching me struggle
to keep my hopes from crawling down
my cheeks. He has punctured
another open wound to use against me,
trying to make the blood boil over
and his infections seep in.

II.
I met with God this morning.
I asked Him what to do
and all He said was Forgive him.
I wonder why
because He already knows I have.
But I know God
and He always has more in store.
Maybe He wants me to forgive him
not just in words, but in action.
Why let the devil steal
my God given gift of love?

III.
It is amazing how Good and Evil work.
They are always just one letter away
from us, God and dEvil.
They are two brothers always in rivalry,
using the same people in our lives
to test us. I declare war with Satan.
he always forgets
that no matter how many wounds
he inflicts upon me,
God is my Healer and seals them
into battle scars to remind me
through whom I always have
Victory.

MS