without words

I have been absent.

absent minded, absent of heart. Set apart from thought and inspiration.

concluding the year, and exhausted from literary motivation.

tell me something

give me anything.

I want to write.

my eyes speak in volumes

"Her essence of beauty remains sustained in my world of thoughts." -LB

Good Grief

Hey everyone, Happy Holidays! I hope everyone has safe and pleasant travels. 

Has the economy affected your Christmas? I'm sure that is an obvious "yes," because it seems as if it has truly touched everyone. Rich or poor, white collar or blue, everyone has felt the rather of the market. In our household, we were told "we will be celebrating the true meaning of Christmas this year" which is the coated way of saying "hey money is hurting, so I love you." Which is fine, my brother and me are old enough to just receive a card. In fact, a simple hug. Christmas is about spending time with the love ones you care about, and I am surrounded by them. So NO GIFTS under a tree does not mean Christmas is absent. It's still in the heart. 

this cold heart of mine.

shivers

It's cold guys.

And not the "oh put  a hat on kind of cold"

I'm talking the bone chilling, brisk candor of mother nature's frigid breath

It's the cause for abbreviated conversations,

    increased walking paces and 

       head nods versus handshakes.

It's so cold my car hates being outside

my dog doesn't even second guess her location to urinate

Thermals are regularly worn

sweaters are presented and adorned 

it's just that kind of cold

and I'm not even talking about New England territories 

this is the northern most southern state...

or the southern most northern, either way

the night air is crisp and glacial 

it's when all things natural and man-made are stressed.

Diary entry #453 - age 19 - Jaclyn

"I feel lonely. This loneliness is not the absence of a particular person. I feel lonely from myself. The presence of my soul is dismal, a calamity of thoughts occupy my soul, bringing darkness and seclusion to the forefront. I never wanted to be president, an attorney or anyone of importance. Just to be happy. Untroubled from my career and unhindered from social parallels, I just wanted to be satisfied with life. Yet I feel I can see my life across from. The life I wanted to have and the life I live. The one I wanted to give and the one that takes. I have made mistakes which has led to this equidistant separation. What do I do to get back? My life is fucked and my daughter is doomed to a disaster. I already hear the laughter from family and friends thinking I couldn't raise kin. I'll prove them wrong, but first I must delete this song of repeated loneliness and rearrange it to a chord of independence."

Diary entry #523 - age 20 - Jaclyn

"Today, was a very trying day. I didn't expect it to go well at all; as a matter of fact, I could give a shit if it went well at all. What the hell does she want? Why? After all this time, why would she want to come back? Acting as if dialogue existed between us, I don't care if she has 'always loved me,' because she hasn't. If she did, she would have been there. Instead of the excuses of why she hasn't. I don't want her to see Kayleigh, she doesn't exist in her world and I want to keep it that way. She has some nerve, prying back into my life, after leaving in the middle of night. This is officially marked as one of the worst days of my life, I hate my mom, better yet I hate Caroline... she doesn't deserve the title of mother."

Diary entry #34 - age 16 - Jaclyn

"I wonder if he knew that same spot that he touches frightens me as much as it turns me on. The treasured area at which I dispose all my frustration is the weak point of my soul. The ravaged most cherished most abused of my possessions. The one I am supposed to control, has been in everyone else's jurisdiction except for my own. Taking and pleasing as they wish. Don't get me wrong, they aren't raping me, they aren't hurting me, but they aren't loving me. Isn't it supposed to be used for love?"

Diary entry #124 - age 17 - Jaclyn

"There is this attraction I cannot subdue. This guy I am drawn to, who possess no inclination to progress. Yet, I find every essence of his 'I don't care demeanor' so flawlessly attractive. He doesn't even smile in my direction, but he looks. So I know he cares, maybe not enough to say hello, but enough to wonder: How can this girl four years younger than me give me what I need? I know enough. Besides what's it to him, I just think he's cute, so that one thing he wants from me, I want right back. Just once. What's one more partner, its not like I have anything special for anyone to have anyways..."

Diary entry #405 - age 19 - Jaclyn

"I wish he still looked at me the same. No matter how much I seem to love him, he allows his pain to hurt me. I could never understand how his hard blows could result in him telling me 'I love you so much.' People look at me and compliment the beautiful girl, cherishing my physical appearance, but I feel so ugly inside. I feel ugly outside. If you looked at my arms, or lifted my shirt, the bruises camouflage what beauty you see. I never will be as good as he wants me to be, in fact I was never good enough for anyone. That's why mom left, that's why dad hit me. There's no single reason I should live."

"Except for her, she's not even four months and I see my life's traits happening all over for her to experience. I can't let her live like that. I want her to smile everyday in life."

Another one from a little while back

Loveless

Louis "th3rd" Bryant

 

A relationship consumed by sex
is a companionship meant to be vexed
as she physically holds on to you
she mentally grasps the latter
emotionally deserted
convulsions disguised as passion,
not allowing the love to be old fashion
the only time she looks in his eyes...
...she never looks in his eyes.

Never finished this...almost 6 months ago.

Giant Steps

July 25, 2008

Giant Steps

    Giant steps

Giant steps

 

So I had a moment to look at my life and examine what is left

   Took this second to appreciate the Giant Steps

You know

    the accomplishments, and the successes

  overcoming defeat, trudging through all the stresses

Like I learned my lesson and took a step back from some things

 This Giant Step back from succumbing to heavy drinking

 Progressing to a giant step forward to submit to heavy thinkin’

I was on the brink when

   Friendships were clenched by the thinness of a thread

And i could witness what was bread from disorderly behavior

So I prayed to my Savior and asked for another chance

I promised I wouldn’t dance with temptation nor thwart another relation

I was relieving frustrations through unnecessary altercations

So I looked in front of my feet, and saw the gap before me

Took a great leap, and amounted to a giant step

 

one kiss

"A beautiful girl, is kind enough to kiss you... You kiss her right back.

  I mean... who knows where that kiss will take you?"

Sounds poetic to me.

Where do your thoughts take you when you hear that? Ladies (of course arrange it to think of a male).

The comment derived from a conversation between a young man and an adult, in reference to the young man's disloyalty to the adult's daughter. I think its quite beautiful, thinking that the kiss will open doors, the kiss will show a new world, that one kiss could be the end of time as we know it.

You should NOT MISS THIS!!

Want to see me on stage????

Want to see others perform too?

Want to have a great night and be around amazing people!?

Come to my Holiday Poetry Event. My first time ever hosting an open mic night. But, I'm sure it won't be the last!! Enjoy yourself to the beautiful words and lovely atmosphere!!

More info at:

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=39312557193&ref=ts

What happens next? Bush leaves the White House

So the score is 54 to 78. Team red white & azure are down and the clock is ticking. The panicking players are sweaty, tired and feeling hopeless. Their fearless coach sits on the bench, legs crossed, slouching back giving off a cavalier demeanor.

The point guard looks over to the sideline for direction, but the coach barely shrugs as he looks back with a half-witted grin. Suddenly the guard calls a time out. 

"Coach, this is the last quarter, what do you want us to do?"

"Well, uhh. Score some points damnit!"

The players looked puzzled, for the answer was obvious, but what about the strategy.

"Okay, but what do want us to do? Press, full court press, man to man, zone, ISO?"

"C'mon why are you throwing all this terminology out there, just win the game. Shoot the ball, and keep shooting and keep shooting! Now get on out there and win, I made a lot of promises (and bets) on this game. I REASSURED everyone we would win this game!!"

The team returned to the floor. Playing as if they were 5 individuals trying to win them game versus a collective unit with strategy. The shot, and missed. Shot & missed. Shot & missed. They looked over to their coach, who remained poised and confident that they were going to win.

Time started to run out and the score was not nearly enough to win the game. 

As expected. The team lost. Yet the coach walked so cocky. 

The team hung its head and walked slowly off the court. One of the players muttered,

"I hate having Bush as our coach."

M. Shadows, Synyster Gates, Johnny Christ, Zacky Vengeance & The Rev

So it has been 4 days!

Have you missed me at all? 

Really? Wonderful!

Well I had a onerous conclusion to my weekend and then my health declined (being around the sneezing kids all day) but now I'm back. I feel better than before, thanks to a nice hard workout and sweat at the best concert for 2008. Yes I saw A7X...it was AMAZING! Absolutely Amazing!

Besides the moshing and drink throwing, crowd surfers and the sardine like standing room...wait. THATS WHAT MADE THE FUCKING SHOW!  I usually hate to be shoved and despise crowded venues, but that night, feeling so trapped made me feel so free. The sounds came from my heart and the band performed 100 times better than any album could have produced. Guys, I honestly can't describe in words (for once) the moments I shared last night.

((these are not my photos, nor are they from the show last evening, but these are the guys I listen to faithfully))

Friends

Friends.

Friendship, a state of mutual trust a supportive bond between individuals. It is not a required element of interaction nor is it customary to possess friendship in everyone you know. Friends forgive, friends are enduring, friends are (supposed to be) always honest.  Friends are not clones of yourself, in fact there are just the opposite. Friends possess unique traits that derive from your own. You don't want to exhaust your friendships, take them for granted, or forget about the cherished moments. One sided friendships, friendships with leverage, friendships laced with money... those can't be real friends. Losing friends, great friends, is never a good thing. Remembering great friendships makes me warm. Friendships that can span over time are always remarkable. The ones when you can call out the blue and talk as if you talked last week. Do your friends know you? When you grow older, space grows around you, friendships get spread apart, dissolved and tested for their trueness. Do they still know you?

Christmas Wish

"Son, what do you want for Christmas?" She asked.

"Oh umm, nothing really, maybe a sweater or some gas money, you've done enough so far."

Thats what he said as he exited the car, and entered the house. The one with no spouse, the one with the mouse who won't introduce himself. Yet produces enough wealth considering his consumption of food. What he really wished for was something only dreams can explore, or nightmares would touch. Only fantasize and such. Yes, he wanted to not wake up on Christmas day, while all the kids are anxious to play. Open their gifts and anticipating to say "thank you Santa." All I want is to sleep for eternity, is that much to ask for? It's not selfish nor is it expensive, it's not limited and certainly not apprehensive. My one wish is to die of a natural cause, cause that's beautiful to me, too much for Santa Claus? He prayed that one night, on Christmas eve, to not wake up tomorrow so that his family could grieve. I think its beautiful too, a symphony of life, to sleep forever on that

   one

        last 

                night.

stubborn mind

He looks at the screen. A myriad of letters combined and confined to a fifteen square inch space. His mind wanders. My mind wonders what he is thinking. Boredom covers his face, which masks his frustration. Calling on me for rescue, a refuge from learning. My assistance is limited. "It's your test," I said. Before the words finish leaving his mouth I intercept his sentence, "Yes you can." I doubt he lacks potential to accomplish reading tasks. He does lack the confidence, direction, stability, consistency, and support. What can I give him? A piece of my brain? An ounce of my heart? Since I can do neither...I will give him a piece of my time. Which is not enough.

Adjacent Meetings

You stare out the passenger side window, Van Goghing the scenery as it blurs by. A conscious effort to lift your head from the window sill becomes exigent and you continue to stare. As fast as the colors stream by you ponder why the destination is taking so long to reach. Although time has no boundary on your arrival you begin to wonder about departing anyway. 

While the vehicle halts at a red light. You can't help but to think of a disastrous scenario for your ordinary day. Once the light transitions to green you pray for a miscreant to neglect the traffic laws, ignore the symbol for red-means-stop and slam onto your side of the car at a blistering speed. Lunging thoughts, parts, glass, metal, rain, oil, and flesh in the momentums direction. You wish you could see this art. The beautiful halo of debris that surround the "accident" as survival is minimal and hope is only for heaven. Staring now from a birds eye view you rewind in slow motion and recreate the adjacent connection between strangers. Everyone becomes oh so familiar. You blink twice, and finger paint the scenery as your breath fogs the windows. 

Silent prayers for worst case scenarios so your bad doesn't seem so... bad.

Poor Karl !V

One screw up. I mean he cut my hair for over a year now, and this one screw up jeopardized our business relationship. Ultimately destroying our invested friendship. I was distraught, the fact that my hair had not looked flawless this time around damaged the rapport he set. Wait. So, after a year or so, one time can prevent me from EVER returning? The answer is YES. People do not remember all the GREAT, people focus on the one bad, Clinton, relationships I've been in, Michael Jackson, Michael Vick, R. Kelly, Roger Clemens, Pee Wee Herman, must I go on?! So yes poor Karl, he deserved more than one opportunity. The following week he could have transformed my fuck up of a hair situation to a masterpiece. Or he could have fucked it up again... so that's why he got one chance. I hope Karl is okay. I hope he learned from his mistake, not that I was teaching a lesson, it was self preservation. 

Poor Karl I!I

Karl always shook my hand. He talked to me man to man. He was a man, I was a young guy. Karl was my friend, and I treated him as such. If Karl needed a ride, I would've asked my dad to give him one. If Karl was upset, I'd tip him more to cheer him up. Karl was cool, you know? I think my invested business and friendship would have called him a friend. But he was just my barber. And friends give friends chances, but Karl's chance's were limited. In fact, they did not exist. Karl messed up one day. One screw up, that's all it took.

Never too full for pain. I guess

masochist (plural masochists)

1. someone who derives pleasure from receiving pain (masochism)

Plenty ordeals I seem to plunge myself within. I have labeled my behaviors somewhat masochistic. I don't receive sexual gratification or stimulated pleasure from pain. Subconsciously I deserve this title because not only do I continuously place myself in situations where I become the bad guy, but I must love it because this is redundant. I'm sorry to all of you. I mean that deeply. This is why...

Poor Karl II

Karl was chanceless. Yes, in my eyes he was my friend. One that I could tell about my grades, the girls I queued, and my hopes for the future. For twelve dollars every other week I was a friend in a chair. A client, a job, a gig. My bi-weekly conversationalist immortalized my hair for the first four days, until it began to wilt and default back to raw form in which it was time to schedule another appointment to revive my hair. Karl was my friend, Karl was cool. Karl understood the need for a young black man to appear engaging.