Th3rd Avenue

Captured at Savage

2011-10-20T19:46:00.004-04:00

Aside from the decent/productive day I had at work it was also pleasing to meet with bride-to-be Deidra. I delivered her engagement shots that were taken in Savage Mill, MD. The conditions of that evening were similar to the overcasting weather that we experienced today. Not as windy and cool though... (thank goodness)

Take a look.

Welcome Back

2011-10-20T19:11:00.002-04:00

I took an extended hiatus from blogging and here was my thought process 1) no one is reading 2) am I just complaining or nagging...who wants to read that? 3) Precious (un-copyrighted) poetry is exposed. Suddenly, I realized that writing is an exercise, an exercise that must be practiced, an exercise that must be shared and I also have a new found interest and skill in photography. So now you get a new exposure to an artistic side that has been in development for quite some time. I hope to hear feedback and reactions throughout the oncoming weeks and I hope to have your support in my artistic decisions. Until then...

Mother's Day

2011-05-16T09:01:00.000-04:00

Mom doing what she does best.

2011-05-15T20:58:00.000-04:00

Behind the scenes @ the R&H Fashion Show

2011-05-15T19:49:00.001-04:00

and so

2011-03-24T23:46:00.000-04:00

And so..

The world is ruthless
Because i cannot cooperate
i don’t know if it’s the fact that
i can’t conform
or
if the system is designed to a calculated output.
An output that has now put me in a critical position
i’m in opposition with prosperity,
i’m wealthy with optimism but poor in presentation.
the ground cracks as I tiptoe over chances of success
Then burn in the dark
Can’t be seen in the light so im pushed aside as if lie is pristine
But it aint
And I hurt
im in pain because i don’t know if a pure soul is meant to endure through this
This is life?
This is bullshit
My optimism is incendiary
Burning fires through my smile
And it dances alone across shadowless cold floors
i can’t cash in on happy thoughts
I would rather scream
As blood drains down the gutter
Blending it with everyone else's
There i go conforming
And the world drinks us victims
Because as beautiful as she is….
Avenged
She is ruthless
Ad her kiss
Dilutes my purity

testimony

2011-03-23T18:10:00.000-04:00

See,
lately i have had this fear that i wont live up to my own expectations
that ‘ll fall short of my own finish line
and diminished time will grapple my shoulders and force me to submit.
i feel as if tears will fall and collect and my puddle will gain vast swells
swallowing me inside
drowning me until i can no longer cry
anymore
my days are filled with sighs and blank pages
inside; my soul silently enrages
and i'm warned about this stage is called what??
a quarter life crisis?
i embrace no crisis
the only word comparable to crisis is the crying i’ve done since i’ve turned twenty-five
but that’s only a soul purge
twenty five means I’m mature, too old to splurge
working on patient nerves and responsibilities
and responding to students that need to hone their abilities
they look up to me…
like a monument standing tall, eclipsing the sun,
they don’t squint, bright eyed and hungry for instruction
they don’t doubt that the outside world could lead a soul to destruction
if steered wrong
but as they run with me, soaking up the carefully placed words
their understanding will lead me to my finish line
and my fears cannot live in their lives.
i leave 'em at the door;
could you imagine if I used my life to give ‘em nothing to hope for?

so i find refuge
using their eyes as the windows to my escape
free falling through minds
journeying through the compos mentis presenting a conscience to the conscious
my inner lost adventurer discovers a new route and
the vices in my life
work like the devices that have been banned while driving
distracting
and fatal.
and no one fancies a fatality.
i lost a friend a few weeks ago making death
a first hand reality.
and i could not image leaving all of these touched souls behind…

[unfinished]

good

2010-10-09T19:04:00.002-04:00

There is so much strength in saying the words - "he's a good man." As simple as those words sound they bring a sort of humbleness to your psyche when you hear them. Although good can be as subjective as you like we know when the phrase is stated it has amazing intentions.

highway blues

2010-09-13T18:39:00.003-04:00

Shifted like a heartbeat lovestruck and confused. Moving fast while staring intently into the window of a car, there's this beautiful woman in which I only see a side profile of, but the side must be her good side. In fact, I just realized it was half of her face, and if it is as identical as I assume then she's the elegance I've waited to change lanes for. As I casually cruise my eyes in the direction that my car is traveling I tug my car in the momentum to dodge a large truck. (WTF!?) Why does everything have to stop me from pursing an interest? The windows of this car mute the conversation that is dying to exist, yet in my mind it doesn't go over so well, so I fancy her with a charged smile, and her response- still a side profile. So then I wonder, am I under the impression that she's not feeling me? I drive on waiting to grasp a glance, then a 1/4 mile passes and I lost my chance, she's on the off ramp.

Life's too short to dance with ugly chicks

2010-09-11T10:40:00.000-04:00

Married or not, she's a helluva woman. There's not a woman that I've crossed passed with that I haven't fell in love with, whether it's 10 minutes or 10 years. Is that fair? Men love cars, men love sports, fishing, drawing, reading and writing. Hell some even love drinking. I love women. A woman, I do love, but as a collective noun women are the love of my life. How sad. It's as sad as how lonely I'll be if I chased that love over the one that loves me back.

I know it hurts

2010-09-10T16:18:00.002-04:00

I've got to be one f*#%@d up person if my volatile temperament has the capacity to mutate a once sweet and kind hearted person to someone who can hold the cold reigns of my persona. It should be illegal to transfer vices, and loathsome thoughts, yet it crosses the threshold on a plate grease up with olive oil. I am trying to find the please in my voice, or at least in the blue sky, and maybe the chemical imbalance will bring me back to happiness. It seems I'm getting it together in a mindstate that keeps saying "you got it." I do love her, and her love is strong, or else I wouldn't have made it this long, but she won't always "love me no matter what."

Cheerios parachute on to a soccer field

2010-09-07T20:32:00.002-04:00

I lost track of time in the middle refereeing interview, I didn't get the job. I've been distracted by how often I blink and it's synchronization to the flickering l.e.d. light in the corner of the room. A room stained with white walls, where shadows seem to be intimidated by their welcome.

Artistic Refuge

2010-09-06T19:23:00.002-04:00

There no need for a whole speech on this when the image can speak for itself.

Thank you mother nature

2010-09-05T09:15:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was my favorite day. I was singing, "I hope tomorrow is like today!" Well, it's supposed to be, but nothing seemed to revel my insides more than the astonishing splash the clouds painted on the background. The sky was full of depth, the shades of blue really made my summer come alive. This is a proper farewell. And so, yesterday I lived happily ever after. Today you can say it's the afterlife. Spirits dance around vividly like wishing stars, which we all know are seeds, and we hope to catch them so they can root into our dreams. Does beauty always feel this good? Where it can over the look the cold feel of tarp on a five hour cold body? It must. Homeless people even look chipper. I'm in the middle of the city and for the first time this summer I wish I was surrounded by more plants than concrete. I want to feel the coolness of the vegetation and the wind that swept across the land just to touch me in the face. I want to feel that.

Insane in the membrane

2010-09-01T17:43:00.002-04:00

It's crazy out there...
that's the title of a very good friend of mine's poem. It's also a true statement.
It's so crazy you'll soon hearing about how a one year old stabbed a their new born sibling. People seem to carry this demented or insane characteristic in their bloodline. It also seems that people are being pushed to their limits and hitting a threshold that causes nothing but calamity to the outside world. "They" say pray for these people. I say pray for the future because as much as the media cherishes on running a headline (negative) into our society's brainwaves all we will see is a dissenting destiny. I mean weather we have extremist holding employees at gunpoint because of what they see on the discovery channel or a former coworker blasting people away because he was fired (racial tension). Then there are political figures and their scandals, corrupt people taking dollars amounts that could run a small country and killers with such a devious way of going about a crime. I just say it's all going to hell, everyone and all of it. There's always hope, but I say have fun then get on the sled because its all coming down.

Hey Hey Hey goodbye!

2010-08-31T22:37:00.003-04:00

So goodbye August, it is truly and irrevocably the final lap for summer. The gruesome, sweltering summer that made me curse and despise heat, sun, people, driving, thinking and daytime hours all in one sentence. (This literally happened.) I welcome the fall, I've written several pieces as an ode to my beloved season. The season of minimal extremities. It's the Switzerland (2nd oldest neutral country in the world) of the seasons.

Now with my time I push hard into a school year. See fall is when my new year begins, therefore, now I feel rejuvenated. What's best about the season is it will change, because like all things they succumb to redundant and monotonous characteristics. So farewell summer, and hello fall, massage my thoughts until I become sore and need the cool nurture of winter to heal my ailing mind.

In Mourning

2010-08-30T21:51:00.004-04:00

"Well, it was a good life my friend. Our lives were very different and obviously on different paths, but as I see you lying here, I would rightfully exchange my soul for yours. In your departure my tears flow down these rocks and into the shallow waters in which you thrived. You will always be alive in my heart. It is because of this divide that no one ever really lives, not like you and I. And because of this I am now dead.
~Love the lamented butterfly"

The elements

2010-08-30T21:32:00.004-04:00

a kiss in the wind
long tasted
just as much desired
burning like the fire that warms a cold heart
kiss that connects and flows like the water
molding over mind and heart and soul and psyche
a kiss that just might be salvation from everything inept
strong like the ground yet, soft like damp cotton balls
a kiss in the wind
just left blowing by
as i stream line my hand past its capabilities...
i missed that kiss.

Bring on September

2010-08-30T16:48:00.001-04:00

So the other day I joined some friends in a random Saturday night adventure (adventure~an unusual, thrilling and exciting undertaking). Well if you could hear my tone or see my face you'd experience the sarcasm laced in the first sentence. Hardly and adventure, but it was great to escape the misery that (my home team) put on (my favorite team). Although I do enjoy football, I usually avoid the "good ol ass whipping" games, especially when my team is on that end of pointed heel that those SONS OF B&%^&*... *sigh* it's just football. However, with man's greatest creation I will devote static hours in front of my television in the upcoming Sundays. Not only will I be immobile on Sundays thanks to (not going to promote for "the man" even though they tailored "man's greatest invention" to watching man's greatest sport creation attuned to a platform only a true fan of the art (of sports) can appreciate. I will be a diligent football fanatic because I have succumbs to the ever so addictive "fantasy football league." I know what you're doing, rolling your eyes, sighing, or grumbling, but who cares?! This is my chance to delve into the life of a real sports fan. Why not join in this rarity?

I was going to write this blog about a totally different subject then, well you can read the irony above.

Take it seriously

2010-08-30T10:57:00.000-04:00

I overheard a coworker today complaining about my boss' speech. The particulars of the speech I will not delve into, but there was a remark made about being on time and the tightening on absenteeism. Now, for a bit of preface, I work in a school, therefore my boss is the principal. My principal, as with any working professional, doesn't want to see her employees come into the school when the students are walking in the building. I believe that is reasonable, but with reason there is opposition and with accordance there is resistance. So my peer/coworker believed that her [principal] remarks were a bit unfair and she didn't feel that it was just.

Now, my take on the situation is: We are working professionals. In the classroom we [should] act professionally, in our district meetings we act professionally, we dress professional, we desire respect and professional treatment. Well as a professional, you need to take into consideration that walking in late is not professional at all. In fact, if you worked retail, or wholesale or some kind of other (ale) sounding occupation, the employer would probably fire you for repeating this behavior.

Remedy?

Stop coming in late. Arrange your schedule and take your job seriously. Act like a professional.

"The way she moves"

2010-08-29T10:47:00.000-04:00

Ever wonder why a guy (or why we guys) sometimes find themselves bemused in the presence of certain women? Pure outright physical beauty does has an affect, hair, eyes, whatever the preference, BUT sometimes...just sometimes us men are in a trance and it is based off subtleties that sometimes go unspoken.

Confidence! I've almost crashed my car because this woman walked up the block with so much confidence. She lacked promiscuous clothes, cleavage, or flowing hair (usual criterion)but what she possessed was a walk that shifted the solid pavement she touched. She had First Lady presence, and this was not the first lady I've seen do this. This confidence is nothing you can instruct someone to imitate or portray (unless you're an actor); for the most part you just have to own it, and I think that is what makes a confident walk so alluring. Of course this is not ever man's thought, but I can tell you that some men don't "think" she's owning the room/block/store we just become drawn. I personally know some women who own confidence like an accessory on their wrist, meaning it is second nature. For all of you wondering about their confidence and appeal... there in lies the problem, but I say if you think confident you will be confident.

Jonathan - Age 38 -

2010-08-28T10:05:00.000-04:00

Just before I left I drank the half empty (half full) bottle of whiskey. Now it's true: nothing remains in this house that I want to be apart of. There's a letter on the stool plainly addressed: "Adrian," but this time there are no hearts, no smiley faces, not even so much as an underline.

Then I depart.

A lie. That's what I've been living. Every time I say "I love you" and every moment I touched her hand, it was false. Now this mask melted off and what remains is a person that I no longer know. One that knows no love. It's amazing how much negativity can be cherished. Rather than looking "over the rainbow," one can stand in the rain and scream toward the sky as tiny drops of pity fill a wide open mouth. The messages pile up on my phone and one swipe erases part of a life I wish to call a revised chapter. Now that freedom seems to be the only thing calling me and leaving messages...

The biggest question is where do I go?

"Honestly, I can say that I never have made a big mistake in my life."

2010-08-27T10:31:00.001-04:00

What a way to go. Not that I am into these dreadful pageants, but Miss Philippines??? You've never had a regret. You've never committed to an act and considered it a mistake. Well I'm sure that's not the case anymore considering that was her self induced wrist slit in the competition.
It just brings me to other thoughts, instead of talking about a pageant for 300 words or less, wondering what if I took the blue pill, or was it the red pill? Either way my life is on a different course because I was given the option to choose it's destiny. (A destiny unforeseen) I have chosen red pill, blue pill, and multicolored vitamin and it has brought me here. A here which encompasses thoughts of "there" and where, but who cares? If we wallow in our mistakes, or our fruitless decisions, has a positive outcome ever resulted?

*Damn country was taken to hellish numbers and horrible policies and yet whining about Bush didn't make him go away, wondering about wasted vote and what I could have done to help change, won't make the change...so take some proactive steps. (but what happened?? He was voted back into office oops)*

I've got some good friends, not many on the dark end of the tube. They know life is full of trials, mistrials, and tribulations, yet they have a positive bearing. They right their wrongs and move to a self loving beat. I'll be like that one day, when I grow up.

What do I have to give

2010-08-26T10:52:00.001-04:00

I'm finding out that you don't learn about your true self until you start giving that away to someone else. Being the way that I was, I found that I kept many things to myself, more than your usual secrets and personal belongings. So now that I've transitioned to a position where "giving" is the quality of the relationship I feel almost immature in this aspect.

{Yes stingy by nature may have something to do with it}

Baltimore the City that...wait what's the slogan?

2010-08-25T12:51:00.001-04:00

It's so good to writing again.

Initially I presumed my rambling was going to be centered around my mindless destruction of my fair city (ode to Baltimore.) Yet her "attitude" has been so cavalier I hardly can connect this to my childhood disliking. Baltimore has charmed me. She has stroked her soft hand on my shoulder and slid gently down to my elbow. Not turned on yet, but I'm intrigued. From first sight she was not all that attractive, in fact it's one of those if I were drunk you would look better to me situations, but just like an unattractive woman with a nice personality she too has fallen victim to my love. One moment I'm repulsed and the moment next I'm strolling her long legs down to her many appealing features.

Art is sexy. Dancers, singers, poets, artists, ...art is sexy.

Baltimore is drenched with art culture and I find her sexiness surrounding me. This small city, where her proclaimed skyscrapers equal the same size at New York City's parking garages, has a dense art beauty and I for one have become won-over by her sexiness.

Thanks for the warning

2010-08-24T10:15:00.000-04:00

Good luck.

That's all I heard in a silent room, full of staring furniture wishing me goodbye with their decaying smiles. It''s unfortunate that as I enter this new realm of living, living sanely that is, there was no surgeon generals warning, no prescribed method, no wiki answers. Just good luck. As if luck had anything to do cohabitation, premarital bonding or just plain grown up stuff. The quandary of the circumstance benefits those who not really master this ordeal, but find a way to tolerate the unforeseen.

Rest assure, if there was some "guide" to getting to be with your future spouse it wouldn't be very good. Many would find it's traditional measures to be quite mindless considering how everyone's desires are different. I just find it quite amazing how living closer can somehow push people further away. Instead of phone conversations there are text, instead of dinners together there are dinners to go, sex...uh no porn. The acts seem to dwindle down to rooming with a friend versus living with a lover.

They say money doesn't bring you happiness but after how broke we've been I believe our morale is a bit low. It's time for a pep rally (vacation) or some sort of jump start (a night on the town.) Reluctantly I've turned to a bottle more so for salvation then sweet recreational drinking, feel as if I'm just a drew hundred sips before becoming "that guy" and diminishing my purpose of loving another person.

It's just so silent that the comfortableness has dissolved. Silence, which once was enjoyable, was reading time, writing time, thinking time, but now I think too much. Think about what she's thinking or if she's upset, or what did I do to tick her off. Shouldn't there be a "honeymoon" stage first? One with fucking up walls and headboards, laughter and silly spoofs that derrange our perception of one another just for a brief moment. I hear the rain fall so much I wonder if the clouds have more to say to me than anyone else. I used to talk to God, now I'm wondering he's taking this silence to talk back.

The return

2010-08-23T20:02:00.002-04:00

Point-set-match

So I have returned, skipping down this cobblestone road of life, glad that I have been given a moment to write, even if it is the condescending sour notes you only expect to see in small-time carnival clowns. The air doesn't smell much sweeter, the sun does seem to be a bit hotter and the rain has yet to sing a melody this summer. Therefore, I'm glad to see her derriere and welcome the cool season back... and in that comes the school year. Why not bring back the thing I have been so reluctant to do. Write.

What kept me away? Maybe, I feared that I may actually enjoy and seemingly create somewhat of an occupation out of this hobby of mine. Maybe I really was "busy" like I said.

All the talk is about marriage, all the action is about children and life as a bachelor seems to look delicious. (Until tasted) Yet, no one actually has a prescription. Can't we satisfy our curiosity by just saying "to each is own?" Vividly living chasing other peoples' dreams searching for a purpose when the purpose has nothing to do with searching for anything. I long to see a day when a complaint is never uttered by me or in my presence. Only then will I believe in the mind's capacity to indulge itself on its surroundings.

Five Minutes

2010-08-13T22:02:00.001-04:00

As I watch hefty dance disproportionately on my television

I take a gander into my deep thoughts and internally I sit and cry for those who lost their way at age, whatever teen number it could be.

Not that sitting around on a Friday night drinking happy juice is the cure all,

I have no halo, in fact my horns have halos around them, so I scowl in the sunlight and cringe in the dark.

I just wish that everyone could smile like my dog does, then again she looks depressed the rest of the time no one walks through the door.

Swirling my liquor, creating an enthusiastic tornado funnel, which serves as a vacuum for my conscious.

Then I think…

How vapid I have been by allowing materials to tattoo my life when I could merely disperse the connection within the click of a button

How satisfying my dissatisfaction has been by new forms of technology when I ultimately feel the terminator will occur and we’ll look at James Cameron like some sort of prodigy.

Then again, he did write avatar and maybe blue jungle cats do exists but his imagination may be a bit too vast for my own gunslinger demeanor.

Well, drink, live, lust, love and smoke things that make you happy in between the boring moments in life. And if all else fails, go to sleep because a wasted dream is like blue balls.

S n o w in February

2010-02-10T11:20:00.000-05:00

Thirty-five minutes later there I was, feeling and looking fresh, until I received a displeasing voicemail. Angela must have called while I was narcissistically attending to myself in the portal called my bathroom.
“Hey Edward, it’s Angie. I can’t make it out of work early enough to hang out tonight. Don’t be mad with me, can we rain check? Call me back, bye.”
Damn, I thought to myself. I know I was not inclined to see her, but I also do not like being turned down, rescheduled or stood up. Angela now had two strikes; her scent was strike one, and this moment, strike two.
I could not let the situation result in a “wasted look” for the evening, so I chose to head out. The direction I pursued, mainly because of the population of women, was Side Pocket. It was a popular billiards and bowling alley. It was rare to actually go and play pool or bowl; that was primarily a group setting. I had full intention of perusing the women and carousing until it was almost too much.
I decided not to sit around the house and wait until primetime, and I left for happy hour at Side Pocket.

Snow in February

2010-02-09T23:19:00.000-05:00

Times have changed.
Time enables us to learn from our past, mistake or not we gain a recorded understanding of what has been so we can determine what will be. For the last decade or so the human race has made its claim to countdown time. Ultimately foreseeing the end of days for the short span mankind has made its impact upon this earth. What will become of this? As dust and dirt marginalize life day by day.
The so-called countdown sends no rifts through mankind’s concern for less-important matters. Pop stars, musicians and movie stars seem to continue to grace media, but I think someone finally realized that it just isn’t that important. So the parading continues, no one watches anymore.

This Friday!!

2009-08-25T11:52:00.001-04:00

Natasha's debut night of hosting at Coco's Butter Cafe! Tell your friends!

Jazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!! and Poeeeeeetrrrryy!!!!!!!

2009-08-18T22:58:00.001-04:00

This Friday check us out! Please!

Keep the applause going for...

2009-08-15T00:21:00.002-04:00

Tera Cafe-

Man that was definitely an artist's refuge, it was saturated with talent! I had a great time, although I was not 100% (meds and fatigue) I had an enjoyable experience, Thank you Tiffany for putting together such a wonderful venue. You definitely have a supporter out of me. As for my performance asi-asi (so so) I loved the piece, and I'm working on putting it up top, but I felt that it was not delivered (or received) how I wanted, partly because of my personal feelings.

Raven I'm sorry once again I won't make it to Storytellers on Sunday, I made a promise and I was able to keep half of it for the weekend, but September will be a big month for Storytellers and I want to be apart of it!

Off to NYC I go, I need a soul purge.

Hello hello hello hello hello Hello hello

2009-08-13T17:23:00.002-04:00

We had a great time Sunday (Aug. 9th), the photos will be up soon! This week I will be at Bare Soul hosted by Tiffany Lynnell (Friday) and Storytellers hosted by Raven (Sunday). I believe fellow talented artist Natasha Ramsey and Veronica Westlake will be present at these venues too. Be on the lookout for the event post for August 21st, Jazz & Poetry featuring Nex Level & Th3rd Avenue.

Goodbye

This Sunday!

2009-08-07T18:02:00.004-04:00

Hey All!

As most of you know... Poetic Summer's Evening is almost here! This Sunday we plan to have a lot of fun, we got wine, an airbrush artist, gourmet food, jewelry vendor, clothing vendors and a bunch of activities to just have a great time. Just to confirm, the event is Sunday from 3pm to 7pm at Patapsco State Park, if you need to google map or gps the location here is the best address to use :

8054 Johnnycake rd, Md 21244

This is at the Patapsco State Park pavilion 705A

We'll have an itinerary available at the location, but we'll have several things to do and we'll open the mic to you all! I hope to see you all there! Bring a friend, and if you can't make it, tell a friend!

The website below has the flyer and other information if you need to refer to it!' (blogspot and myspace)

Thanks!

Louis

443-829-0055
http://www.myspace.com/Th3rd_Avenue
Th3rd-Avenue.blogspot.com

DON'T MISS IT!

The making of...

2009-07-29T21:17:00.002-04:00

I drink when I'm stressed
I drink when I'm bored
Guess I'm an alcoholic

I smoke when I'm nervous
I smoke when I'm excited
Guess I'm hooked on blacks

I have sex when I'm horny
I have sex when I'm not horny
Guess I'm addicted to sex

I break things by accident
I trip unprovoked
Guess I'm clumsy

I do things because I shouldn't
I like the challenge and defiance
Guess I'm foolish

I hate being upset and in pain
I love trying to overcome it
Guess I'm masochistic

I write when I need to overflow a thought
I write when I think nothing at all
Guess I'm a writer

I smile through the pain
I laugh when things are insane
Guess I'm scared

My words speak
I spoke
Guess I'm a poet

Drink up with me now...

2009-07-29T20:58:00.002-04:00

"...and forget all about pressure of days. Do what I say."
-M. Peyroux

A week ago began a pivotal and heightening chapter in my world of words. Yes poetry's gracious hand nudged me further into its realm of amazement and relief. Last Wednesday, I hosted along with partner and Th3rd Avenue sister Natasha Ramsey. Marking our first time hosting together and our first time hosting at the particular venue. Now, not to dog Gladys or anything of that sort, but the restaurant was ill-equipped to sustain supporters of poetry (Whether they are the poets themselves or the audience). In order to fully grasp attention it was necessary for one of the performers to literally stand on top of a bar stool to perform. (Thanks DK!)

I will not go into the details that amounted to (un)successful night, but lets just say we will not be doing it there again, unless distinct changes are made, which I doubt will occur.

Thursday & Friday - Crabs & Beer! Need I say more??

Something I shouldn't have done was drink and stay up late, because Saturday morning at 7:30AM I had to succumb to the unpalatable taste of test taking's tit. Yes Math, Reading and Writing Praxis I until about noon. Then it was immediately off to Capital Heights Maryland to perform at Ayieta's PampHER party as one of the featured poets. It was a blessing and an honor. I brought my pal Natasha Ramsey to enjoy in the festivities (Tai Chi-Qong) and perform (and she never disappoints).

RIGHT after we chowed on some curry chicken we fled north to Coco's Butter Cafe so that I could host a night of Jazz & Poetry with Nex Level. Amazing night of that. Fun, energized and a perfect blend of the arts.

After that Adam's Morgan. No drinks though, broke as hell.

Sunday. MY FIRST FEATURE as a poet at MLV Sundaze presented at Eden's Lounge. Now the turnout wasn't nearly what I had hoped, but it was still fun. I was able to display my art, present my craft and it went well.

Monday. Trip to Shirlington, met up with vets Mike Shellington and Gary Logan to present at Busboys & Poets. That was fun, great venue, nice mix of crowd and it was a fine place for me to present my art.

So, there's my week.

Starts all over again this Friday!

Th3rd Stop

2009-07-09T17:12:00.002-04:00

So, it's been a while. Okay exceptionally long, since I have here to bless this blog. I do miss you, I really do, just like I miss getting paid good money. Just like I miss having the luxury to go freely where I want. Regardless of what I miss, what I have once again, my words.

Nothing has been new, always thinking crazy, always dreaming darker, always walking with smiles. I am undoubtedly and unequivocally in love. That's another blog though.

I've been hosting a LOT ... in the same place, Coco's Butter Cafe, Blues & Poetry, Jazz & Poetry, Open Mic, Nights, all kinds of events, but hosting days there have been numbered due to circumstances beyond my control.

So thanks to Sweetbaby Publishing I am on my road to publishing my 2nd book of poetry which I've been working hard to perfect. For months now I have debated titles for my next work, because i believe the work represents me in its entirety. And the title needs ring Th3rd Th3rd Th3rd, because it is the gateway to my representation.

Oooh, you want me to type it don't you.

Not yet.

BUT KNOW, it is my soul, the innate representation of Th3rd.

Mina Spits: June-Teenth, 2009

2009-06-20T02:28:00.000-04:00

Mina Spits: June-Teenth, 2009

Where you at?

2009-05-19T19:01:00.002-04:00

I have been out a while haven't I?

Haven't blogged about life and the disorderly as of late. I have been on a purge trying to source words for other realms of writing for the time being. But I do miss writing here. Expect something soon.

Th3rd

The Kind of Love I Want For Me

2009-05-06T09:49:00.000-04:00

I want the kind of love that endures

The same kind of love I’d climb mountains for

Or travel to some distant shore

I want the kind of love for which I’d break down doors

A love that isn’t bound by one’s personalities

A love that opens your eyes to the beauty of the trees

And the grace in the flight of bees

And your heart beats to a new melody

I want a patient love that just allows me to be me

Without standards that falsely measure my heart’s capacity

A love that doesn’t need a barometer

A love so perfect that you can just let it be

I want a love that is born out of caring and respect

So neither one of us are ever accused of or faced with neglect

A love that is nurtured with understanding

A love that is not so demanding

I want a love that makes me rush to get home

To remind her that she will never be alone

I want a love that makes me once again believe

And not have to worry about being deceived

I want the kind of love that makes me cry

Not that I want to cry… but let me explain why

It reminds me that for me the love would not be a lie

That kind of love where you don’t have to even try

A pure love because there is an ease and comfort that it brings

And makes it easy to kneel on one knee holding a wedding ring

The kind of love that opens your ears to hear the angels sing

And opens your heart to the world’s greatest thing

I want a love that flourishes with time

I want a love that simply promises to be

Everything that I ask for in this rhyme

That’s the kind of love I want for me

Our Worst Enemy

2009-05-06T09:48:00.001-04:00

Displaced from home and brought across the seas

Disgraced and exploited for prophet and greed

Forced into slave labor to supply their master’s needs

Though some did escape… most just hung from trees

Nine lashes with the whip… then just left their to bleed

Denied the opportunity just to learn how to read

It’s no wonder they risked life and limb just to be freed

President Lincoln supposedly provided the key

Merely a tactic used so the South wouldn’t succeed

And when finally we were freed

We were introduced to the kind of people that Jim Crow breeds

Now even more we’re hanging from trees

Because of the contempt some people keep

Solidarity arose because there was a need for unity

Demonstrations… really peaceful situations… were met with hostility

Separate facilities were provided for our needs

Separate water fountains were provided for us to drink

A King arose because someone needed to lead

Following in the path made by former leaders' feet

The FBI seemed to erase a kingdom by killing it's Kings

Deaths shrouded in conspiracy

But that Kingdom is not completely deceased

It lies within the pride of which our grandparents speak

The path they traveled was forged from the calluses on their feet

They were the ones in the Black Panther party

They were the subjects of an FBI sting

COINTELPRO was designed to destroy them in the streets

Flooded us with cocaine and crack... meant to destroy our communities

We legally fight them with the NAACP

For the uplifting of our people is truly necessary

Social and political sabotage instituted empirically

Our right to vote is not really a right you see

The Lyndon Johnson Act makes it only temporary

Scheduled for a re vote next year when Congress reconvenes

Just leads me to believe, socially and politically

That we're still held on a very long leash

As a people we did make strides towards equality

It seems only to be met with a more subtle racist mentality

And there are still places where we STILL hang from trees

We're not exactly helping our cause either... you see

There is no unity within the Black community

And the younger generation? They live by a different creed

Only out for self... motivated by making money

Not that I blame them but they act and they don't think

Fueled by sin under the mask of virtue... that is pure insanity

No hopes... no dreams... no goals it seems

Sports and entertainment have given them opportunity

But behind the scenes THEY somehow seem to pull the strings

Throw millions in the laps of kids... give them the key to their dreams

Throw them on the world stage to shine ever so brightly

Their lives in the hands of men that just use them to make money

Another alternative is the processed derivative of the coca leaf

Which only leads you down two parallel streets

One leads to the penitentiary

The other to the cemetery

West Side Story

2009-05-06T09:47:00.000-04:00

I'm from Baltimore's West side

Folks might say it's the best side

The truth is it's where the distressed collide

Some fire guns and the others die

Where mothers clutch dead children to their breasts and wonder why

"Why oh why did my child have to die?"

Praying to God to get them back but only left to cry

To escape this hell I've tried

But once again it's here I subside

The city that reads? Somebody lied

More like the city that bleeds... you can still see where the blood has dried

Where the dealers sleep all day and post up all night

Where fiends sniff so much dope their notrils are dried

Shoot so much crack their brains are fried

Smoke so much weed they have bloodshot eyes

Drink so much liquor their livers are expired

Where nothing remains... everything has it's time

There use to be an economy on the rise

The only businesses left sell fake hair or chicken and fries

Dudes selling loose cigarettes on the side

Cemetaries are full but that's not a surprise

Morticians make a killing in my city where so many die

You can hear the sirens everywhere... another day in the life

Make one wrong move.... the autopsy table is where you'll lie

M.E. pulling out bullets from your back and your side

"Maam... I think this is your son.. can you please come down and identify?"

There ain't that much to do here... some club like Choices on a Friday night

Guaranteed before you leave someone will get in a fight

Grab some grub at a spot open all night

Make it home just before the morning light

Sleep all day and do the same thing the next night

Now how's that for urban plight?

We Are A Part

2009-05-06T09:45:00.000-04:00

We are apart of long lineage of those that understand what the meaning of burden is

A race that have stood on the front line in the war on poverty

That knows the pain of watching their loved ones hanging from nooses

Done by those who looked at their lives as a novelty

For whom 40 acres and a mule were replaced with 40 ounces and the blues

And we can still feel the dogs biting at our ankles and the separate list of rules

We're the ones whose accomplishments never made the news

Our elders reduced to shining the shoes of rich white fools

Big mama's too tired to tend to us 'cause she's worked all day chasing the white ladies' kids

She came home with just enough strength to cook us a meal

Barely had enough time to sit down and rest her eyelids

Before having another long day with which to deal

We are apart of the moment when Jackie broke the color lines

And when Martin spoke of reaching the promised land

And when Malcolm wanted people to mobilize

And when Garvey wanted to take us home again

We apart of a proud long history of pioneers

Of honor and joy

struggle and pain

scars and millions of tears

And we continue to tread forward

Overcoming again and again

You Can't Hug A Child With Nuclear Arms

2009-05-06T09:38:00.000-04:00

It's funny what the human mind can conceive

Debates have passed through the annals of time

Going back and forth on what they believe

Such is the difference when one tries to conceive

How the world's nations can wage wars and then place their enemies on trial for war crimes

The result of a Pandora’s Box opened before way our time

“Fat Man” and “Little Boy” leveled Hiroshima and Nagasaki

We’ve all been suffering from the fallout for a very long time

Leaders sat in front of the cameras and talked peace for TV

But as usual nothing is achieved

The mindset that creates can destroy a man in his prime

You can ask yourself is there anything of social value that can be retrieved?

The answer isn't in the satirical rhetoric usually found on 20/20 and Nightline

U.S. foreign policy is leaving our parents to grieve

A subway in London is bombed on 7/7

And attacks here on 9/11 in Manhattan, Pennsylvania and DC

Resulted in many dead and the World Trade Center reduced to debris

The Bush Administration has supposedly been after “those responsible”, but they’re taking their time

Hunting down the deck one card at a time

Abu Ghraib proved how human torture seems to come with ease

When provided the opportunity… I mean it doesn’t take a degree

Now how do groups like the Bilderbergers, which consists of the world's elite

Plan the New World Order before our very eyes even though they meet in secrecy?

There are those who seek to shed some light, sometimes putting their lives on the line

Just to have their truth reduced to common conspiracy

The Council on Foreign Relations and the Trilateral Commission has a membership that spans American history

Everyone from delegates and heads of state to almost our entire presidency

Clandestinely working to undermine the very fabric of our society

To institute a socialist society is the goal of the Illuminati

Congress passing laws that allow them to invade our privacy

Yet will arrest you for downloading free music and call it software piracy

Bankrolling conflicts just for the sake of profiting

Gaining control of countries monetarily

World domination by any means so it seems like it’s just a matter of time

Before those bombs go off and the world we know exists to be

And when the smoke finally clears… we will see that we were never really free

S dot dot dot

2009-05-04T16:28:00.003-04:00

If only she knew of the words I've been writing
It wouldn't be reciting
it'd be word fighting
As I wish that all can hear me from this stage and
my rage would be felt from the words off this page
My stomach churns and anxiety would stop fighting the urge to appear normal
The only thing normal is the fact that i'm human
and you can't live with certain things in life, so you try hard to kill em
you can't deal with things in life, so I'll stop dealing
rather have a possessing feeling overwhelm me from floor to ceiling and
i can't keep reeling in my soft rationale to understand that the actions now are
subliminal strikes back,
yeah I'd write that
cuz i likes that
yet HATE this, i'm not complacent and maybe I should just listen to her advice
or maybe I should just get a move on with my life
whatever decision it's thin like a knife...
I sigh heavy and black smoke exits my mouth
trying to figure this heavy shit out, leave that light shit for another poem
60 minutes on a phone, no where far did I roam, I just wanted to be back home
back to the usual
back to the norm
but its far from existence
maybe with persistence it can survive
with all this resistance I think it'll just die
why?
WHY
Why the hell do things do what they do
People say the shit like this exists in movies
no it happens in life, "my best friend girl" is just funny
"The break up" is meant to make you laugh
the shit aint funny in real life, it's Karma's wrath
math and science have no compliance,
no formulas
no critical thinking
no scientific method for structured understanding

all you can take from it is...
Its happening.
you ask "why"
pain won't subside for weeks and even months
Your voice is muted for needs and even wants
So, prayer
and time and maybe I can find a peace of mind
but I doubt it
someone will be rejected (him)
right now my judgment is clouded
Just glad i can find refuge in words
solace in silence and now I know why the rain falls...

30/30 *sorry it's late... I wrote it ont he 29th... just forgot to post**

2009-05-03T18:35:00.003-04:00

Yo!
Stop tryin' to save the world with ya f@%#& pen!!
Ink doesn't stop bullets!
thoughts don't clog needles

...A voice of the people?
you mean the same people you drive by on Chase or Biddle?
the housing projects, broken swings in the middle
The people who grind and toil
mouths dry as sun soaked soil from the lack of ambition
the distasteful fluid of defeat overwhelms saliva glands
you say you're their "mans"
when open hands and closed fist transactions are shamefully gazed upon
this is what their day is based upon
their Sparta
true life brave hearts
pump the same fluid as past slave's hearts

misguided and lead astray
show me the day your pen becomes a staff and you lead paths from dismay to paradise
parting red seas of blood from undeserving individuals

Messenger?
writer?
Poet?
spoken artists meant to diffuse the delusional truth
and your F$%#& pen!

I delegate for no man, woman, or child
streets are wild
but while my eyes are open
soaking in the juice of sin
I do speak thru my pen
and begin to lift lives thru my lines
between or inside
because just as stray bullets can end a life
my stray thoughts can change one
and one aftr another makes some
and by the time I'm done I'll have a few
several by my side to do what I do
words by way of ink CAN jam a glock
or break plungers inside of needles,
rather break away users from needles so they don't plunge them in their skin
I am but a voice
here by choice to change and amend
disrupt daily drills by pen
yes I can reach the souls of men
or I can't
I am as conscious about the struggle as the next man enduring it
I am as hungry for success as the person beside me pursuing it

Get off my pen.

29/30

2009-04-29T05:46:00.000-04:00

Did I take this too literal?
Has literacy affected me, I mean infected me
I've detected the need to write
This unusual addiction to place inscriptions on blank slates
for about thirty days I have blessed page after page
and if words could tell my years in age
I would no longer be twenty three
i'd be in my forties, pouring the essence of wisdom from mind to matter
using my daily experiences as fuel to sharpen your image
my timeless observations would hold the potency of aged liquor
as it falls of my breath hovering over my ankles
It looks as if I can walk on clouds, as my thoughts create my mystique
my unique appearance
slumped on one side, hair carrying the scent of fallen gods
my words would leave totem poles etched
as phrases spiral to the heavens each word squaring its meaning after the next
I'd be the finer type of poet
old school and classy...yet mind revolving around modern issues
I'm the underground lariat
the social male spinster
The local washed up hero saving words for rainy days
scripting life on his daily page
30 days aged me twenty years

28/30

2009-04-28T17:15:00.002-04:00

I got a couple of real poems for you
a couple chill poems for you
a couple I gotta tell you how i feel poems for you
But still, want I want to do
is reach to you
I have a seat for you,
See for you
all you read is a pattern of words
often discerned and learned
sometimes omitted or rejected
I've kept it cordial
a gentleman on task
recruiting poetry as an ally
Going hard side by side with words on my shoulder
as we charge the enemy and see whats over
the hill,
then the fields are tattooed with patrons
hatin and blamin'
this melee
an obstruction of just this
my justice to discuss this
and that being whatever I've conjugated at 5:43 PM
That time

27/30

2009-04-27T19:59:00.003-04:00

...and like all tired, old and beautiful things...
she is subject to my boredom
for it is not her that has sanctioned my dissolved interest but rather the idea of her lasting

You see I've been bored with the thought
not the action
In fact, then I was more satisfied with what I fantasized
now I'm content with what I'm with
and soon I'm be done cause it's come and gone
The elasticity has been overstretched
The velcro on love no longer can mesh
demagnetization
no more polarization
the stagnation has reached stank
and I thank God for words to release
so I can cease the jumbled thoughts and reiterate what I've written to conjugate
You've been able to see me demonstrate my lack of interest
but I give this no affirmation of conduct
I need a confirmation
So I stare into you're eyes
and plainly state
We aren't here
we never made it there
and this is going no where

Funk that!

2009-04-27T18:44:00.000-04:00

Haven't you just wanted to tell someone..."Nahh fuck that!"
I mean not in every circumstance or the usual dialogues
but every once in while I think we all encompass that feeling..

26/30

2009-04-26T17:37:00.002-04:00

I tasted love when you kissed my lips
before you announced the three letter phase
before holding hands on 90 degree days
my was it sweet
man it was wet
eyes closed and every connection said
"I love you"

25/30

2009-04-25T00:54:00.000-04:00

5 days to go
5 more days
5 more days and my mind won't be a slave
yet I feel saved because i'm voluntarily involved in the cause to keep writing
and the constant motivation to keep reciting
5 more days means 120 hours
In which time has the opportunity to devour human existence
or disturb the peace in India
Bomb a village in Africa
Starve a child in Asia
In five days I lost a job
In five days I gained a job
I wrote six poems and incorrectyl spelled twelve words
In five days I ran out of gas and found out I didnt pass that dreaded literature class
shit I didn't even pass a praxis and I lack this ability to grasp standardized concepts
In five days my head felt like it was going to burst
My car's brakes failed and I slammed into a hearse
In five days I lied twenty times and laughed two-hundred and sixty-seven
cried twice and talked to myself more than I remember
five days allowed me ample time to watch favorite movies and ignore phone calls
In five days I used a whole pen up and ran outta printer ink
yet I used to think
and forget
5 days I allowed sweat to accumulate and sweat
I accumulated much more debt
5 days allowed a civilian to land a jet
and another one to lose four bets
five days is a lot of time
5 days I could write the breakthrough rhyme
5 days could be my moment to shine
so 5 days is only 5 days, but five days IS only five days.

24/30

2009-04-25T00:30:00.000-04:00

obsessed
yeah
She's the beginning of my day and it won't conclude without her goodnight
and we've had blessed days and good nights that involved presentations of love
and the obsession that has developed from my newfound necessity of her
Yeah,
obsessed like trees are for sunlight
like parents are for a child's first words
obsessed, like you can't tell
obsessed for a woman Chantel
and I can dwell on thoughts unregulated
And I plan well without manipulatin'
I'm consumed in cells overwhelmed by letters all amounting to a story about you
all directing back to you
and my obsession
the only help I need is the assistance to breathe when not in your presence
like all obsessions I have a lack of expression
yet a cardinal profession for action
I'm yours obsessing over the times I 've shared with you

Where are we going (not a poem)

2009-04-23T22:29:00.003-04:00

I constantly wonder about the direction in which mankind has faithlessly followed. As we have evolved into a generation thriving on laziness, also know as technology, to get us through daily routines. Jobs losing their strength as shrewd minded graduates create small objects to efficiently replace human functions. Yet, as we bask in the ambiance of mobility and bow to suck on the mighty teet of Silicon Valley, I have taken note that technology has not only made us lazier, but it has reared our children. Not in a literal sense obviously, but technology has truly made our young ones grow up.

While traveling home from a field trip today the imprudent bus driver delighted in entertaining our children (and adults) by scrolling through his ipod to play selected songs for the short commute home. Well, we can't blame the bus driver because he solidified an already obvious fact: kids are too grown, and we have allowed the access of technology to enable this deed.
Flat screens, cell phones, pda's, cable, digital cable, blue tooth, on demand, the remote control as a parental figure. With those things it gives our young ones access to things that age them 2 - 3 years socially than they are educationally. Saying things like "put a ring on it," "and she's got her own things," and my favorite: "blame it on the a-a-a-alcohol baby!" What!? a six year old should blame his or her guardian for allowing them to sing that song. When I was young I had access to radios, and media to perpetuate a "bad child's" lifestyle but it was censored. I watched "In livin' color" and "Martin" and "The simpsons" as they had jokes flying over my head, but when it would get to a point the TV would be cut off, my parents hovered and made sure lyrics and comments were not repeated or heard because it DOES affect a developing mind.

I tutor in the city and hear comments drop from six and seven year olds who sound like they belong in 7th or 8th grade.

My concern is since we've evolved from no legs showing, to long dresses, to short dresses, to skirts, to mini skirts, to boy shorts and booty shorts. Easy listening, to deragorty nameless songs. (you catch my drift?) If we've come from little to a handful of this material we so call advanced. Then what next, will it just get worse? I definitely don't see it reverting back to tattoo free skin, clean music and innuendoless television. Where do we go?

23/30

2009-04-23T19:35:00.002-04:00

I'm buggin'
eyes wide open to the world like my arms yet I'm feeling rejected
denied access to smiles via gratification
mine are forced, mine are applied like temporary tattoos
dangling like dusty frames hung crookedly
Look at me, I'm a number in a numbers game
I'm a single letter in an encyclopedia
i provide unity to consistency
I feel as important as a blade of grass
Collectively in this world I support the beauty, but I can be cut
brushed away
killed, peed on
pulled, trampled
baked, eaten
and shitted on
But I still add to uniformity
My tiny voice cries insanity, as I'm restless like a hummingbird heart
I'm malcontent like a prestigious painter
and I'm angry like a deranged pit bull
Four years of my life blurred by to get a paper at which has provided no use other than to signify to letters
BA...but it feels like BS b/c it has depreciated in value
in fact I made more money while in an institution
who should be institutionalized?!
I feel like my white coat is already worn because I've sworn to prosper
yet my vision is construed through the kaleidoscope called life
guess I'll have another drink
that way the vision will make more sense

22/30

2009-04-22T17:44:00.000-04:00

What the hell is going on?!
We sit with our flags and we wave them on high!
Your sons, nephews daughters and nieces have died
We pray for harmony yet cause the conflict, ravishing on the rare quantities of life
What is the use…to gain all we can before we die…so we can…
cant do anything with the materials we gain, all this money and that big ass house isn’t your ticket to eternal life
as many as Ralph Lauren’s horses we possess in the stable
unfortunately we are still not able to be as rich in spirit as we are with our possessions

Thanking the Lord I was not brought about this world as an ant or a annoying fly
But at the same time this consuming complex
This arrogant cortex
this demanding commanding destroying all powerful
yet, weak, perplexed species is as confused as a wild animal forced to be domestic
I mean, as soon as we discover we conquer, not preserve and observe the unique qualities of life

If we were as the dinosaurs our time would be for eons
But the human race is killin' off and soon it wont be long,
There is no right way to go about life, just be one with God

21/30

2009-04-21T20:52:00.001-04:00

As poets
Writers
Wordsmiths
Spoken-word artists

You have to possess a particular confidence
when it comes to conquering public presentation
sometimes the whole arrangement can cause tension
did I mention nerves
butterflies & the latter
To some it clearly doesn’t matter, climbing up a success ladder
With an escalator
Where as others climb legless

Poetry can encompass a union of thoughts
Artistically conveyed from our artistic display
You know this
I called poetry “the non-winning race”
‘cause as we chase letters and capture them for meaning
capturing attention, (which can be a beast to pacify)

I’m just an ordinary guy
I work hard for words
Respect them
And I project them with poetic inflection
So I try my best then to instigate direction,
Expectin’ to be received
Regardless of poetic reign

At no point in time shall I feel shame
Never should I want to keep thoughts closed
Poetry is the means to expose to those
You know and you don’t
Poetry makes you feel at home
When any other time you won’t

And respect!?
Respect for subduing anxiety
Respect for hiding the
Fact that I’m scared shitless to recite words from off this page
All eyes on me,
Shouldn’t feel as if Ima be booed off the stage.

I’ve seen a poetic arrogance
I’ve always wanted a mentor, a brother, someone to steer my way
But, when I look around today
I see no support for new entrants
I guess people don’t get breaks on their entrance
So walking hard is the only way out
Instead of investing doubt.
Throw up support
I feel old enough to walk
Grown enough to talk
But as I speak; an inner child overcomes
Maybe I’m humble or half dumb
But I know I’m proud
‘cause I open my mouth and words fall out
as I flip minds & twist them
tie - dying breeds of poets cry lost thoughts to echo in my writing

this is for unity, not for fighting
even though mind slams
command the social circuit
but it’s not a social circus
if a ring leader exists point them out with your pens
‘cause there should be no reigning leader of words
I’ll assemble my family of letters and denote them with verbs
Cu them with consonants
Destroy them with diction
Regardless of the fiction
Forgo the whippin’, we’re not poetic slaves

All I’m sayin is poetry needs no hate
With all the lack of unity, yet an intention to congregate
Lets familiarize ourselves with a poet with no name
Lets take in a friend and begin to spread love with our pens

Bump 'n Grind

2009-04-20T18:55:00.002-04:00

What are your favorite let's get the drawers songs?

Terrance Trent D'arby - Sign your name
Prince - The beautiful ones
Boyz II Men - 50 Candles
112 - All my love
The whole Evolution to Robin Thicke album!
Andre 3000 ft. Norah Jones - Take off your cool
John Legend - Let's get lifted again
Floetry - Sometimes you make me smile
Floetry - Feelings
Keite Young - If we were alone
Dru Hill - Beauty
and who could miss...
Janet Jackson - Would you mind
That's list one on the itunes... Shit the songs are playin in my head once I'm commenced...

20/30

2009-04-20T17:48:00.003-04:00

How many poems can one make about rain?
the soft drops echo my name
reflecting personality as puddles accumulate but never duplicate

How many poems can one make about the life?
"the dead don't talk," but we'll honor a life
consumed by lies, pain and destruction

How many poems can one make about drugs?
the fix, a hit, a smack, or a pull
scabs, scars, blood, sweat, discolored flesh and salty vanity

How many poems can one make about sex?
shallow and hollow as it tastes, blank stare in the face
careless moans and heartless tones, initiated from late night conversations on the phone

How many poems can one make about the world?
street living, poverty, children without a dwelling
we can keep telling everyone, yet slumdogs pack populations... change takes action

How many lines can one make about love?
its the source of life, and the end if treated improperly... its volatile
Love's beauty and enrichment will fill pages for ages

How many poems can I make before I expire?
The pen won't retire, but my entire will to breathe will diminish
when my soul, mind and heart will be replenished on the crossover (transcendence)

How many poems will it be until the end of our existence?
our consistent standard of living is on par with destruction
the corruption we bring in the cycle of life makes me think of one word: parasite

How many poems will I write until I receive money,
that isn't immediately removed from my hand, its twisted creation has robbed innocence!
Diluted bonds, broken relations... money has circumcised our nation

How many poems will it take until I have her heart?
As many as it takes; she has my undivided attention
Her heart mentions love, whispers serenity, screams my name and recites poetry in my sleep.

19/30

2009-04-19T12:11:00.003-04:00

Don't mean to be so blunt
just smoke one
relax

No need to call her a cu...
bad name
refrain from lowering your levels

Yell in a forest, insulating sound
if you need to scream
don't scream at me

Frustrations can be sexually relieved
only if you believe
in the one you take it out on

Drink from the cup that provides life
not from the one that takes
you can live on wine

Don't read between the line
especially if the words are on top
You wouldn't be reading anything

Sometimes we all need a good cry
tears require freedom
purge yourself

18/30

2009-04-18T11:49:00.002-04:00

If you loved me perfectly
my imperfect mind still conjures flaws

Darkness is a veil to disguise insecurity
Smiles mask pain
Tattoos immortalize forgotten family members, until the tattooed dies
Money is the inevitable means to:
pain
pleasure
sorrow
troubles
women

Stairs are temporary elevation, real transcendence comes from a free mind

Anyone can succeed, obstacles test one's true faith, endurance, mind, and heart.
We all have an even start but a broken mind can alter a path
a faithless heart, and uninspired eyes will meet a demise, recycling back to the next generation
Hell can be around the corner or underneath you
faith can be by your side or a fable in a lost tale

17/30

2009-04-17T07:09:00.000-04:00

*This is not meant to banter, tease, hector, trouble, make fun, or belittle anyone, it was just from me watching the news over a few weeks and the accumulation that life is cancerous. I am not singling out victims or related victims of cancer, this is just on the many risks and causes*

Cancer

Smoking causes cancer
Asbestos causes cancer
The sun causes cancer
Age causes cancer
being you causes cancer
fluoridated water causes cancer
sweet & low causes cancer
Sitting causes cancer
Beef causes cancer
Alcohol causes cancer
Being Black is risky to get cancer
Bras cause cancer
Fake breasts cause cancer
deodorants cause cancer
white flour causes cancer
refined sugar causes cancer
Grilling causes cancer
electric transformers cause cancer
Cell phones cause cancer?
heredity causes cancer
Microwaves cause cancer?
Music causes cancer?
Breathing causes cancer?
The Simpsons cause cancer?
Bottled water causes cancer?
Fried chicken causes cancer?
Lack of fried chicken causes depression,
which could cause cancer
Not smiling causes cancer?

Reading prevents and causes...

stupidity.

16/30

2009-04-16T08:52:00.000-04:00

red wine by design has been the gateway from your computer screen to the unlit streets of my mind. never witness a crime but you hear the screams, the red fluid flows like streams down my throat and the moat that surrounds my castle of doom, but dim-lit room is an actual dungeon made-over from a tomb. I don't know what to pursue as I consume so more shirrrazzz, but the gloss, correct, glass is half past empty and more than full of creative juices. This has no form just blocked by desire, because by design the wine has won.

and I'm done.

15/30

2009-04-15T11:43:00.000-04:00

*On the conclusion to a discussion about Spoken Word, and how I necessarily don't fit that type of poet. My mother asked me, "well what kind of poetry do you do?" I told her well that was the point of titling my book Unclassifiable... because it isn't one type I suppose. I can't put it to a category...maybe I'm all over the place ...a wreck with words...so here's this:

I never figured out my kind of poetry
just like my words, there's nothing to define me
think of me combining all flavors of kool-aid
you'll at least have a fusion of flavors
and conglomerate of colors
Still I couldn't justly define me to my mother
I speak from my heart, and expressions range
from rage to joy,
random to focus
I know this, and can't ascertain my poetic origin
I can speak, write, sometimes recite and always ignite interest
did this
i can do that
i know without a fact I do write poetry, and i speak words,
they've been spoken but words and expression don't seem to fit me in that box
oh yes
back to the orthodox poet
uniformity
structure
balance and necessity for meaning
my soul begins intervening when it seemingly begins to fit
maybe it's too fat, in fact maybe I'm stuck and with no intention categorized myself
th3rd poetry
that's the type of poet that...
well it's when you...
have no fuckin' clue what you're going to write until you're at the 3rd line
and you don't understand the process of titling so it's one from internal rhyme
when you hurdle time and duck obstructions like instruction and informative criticism
my hedonism stems from 26 letters
yes, that's what type of poet I am
on my own avenue, painting walls with stanzas
defacing doors with doctrines on random inspirations
don't initiate conversation with someone claiming to be a th3rd poet
they'll profess their ignorance to the world
and stigmatize the creative sensation, meaning their coincidental inspiration
what?

14/30

2009-04-14T10:22:00.001-04:00

14/30

Left, Right
Left, Right
Left or Right
Left, Write
Left, to write
I'm left to write, like you read left to right
and what's next tonight?
Too complex for sight
if i were in the military it'd be too structured for my life
so I’ll live blob like
amorphous
belonging to nothing
yet involved in everything
faceless
identifying to no one
yet related to everyone
nameless
no calls or requests
yet shamelessly hailed
wordless
nothing ever to discuss
yet important enough to read
this is me

13/30

2009-04-11T00:10:00.002-04:00

We've all had embarrassing moments
brings out the most self conscious feeling, don't it?
Instances where smells placed you in spotlights
at least when i write, i can't feel that feeling
like the time when an accident flew up to the ceiling
or a time when someone walked in while she was kneeling
(well I didn't feel half as embarrassed as her)
Shit, I felt embarrassed one time for toilet stains I didn't even make
cause I know once I come out, someone's goin to think that's the crap I had to take
hah!
I've had to fake illnesses just to hide an odor
what's colder is I know how you all look at people over the shoulder when something is out of the norm
discusses arise because of deficiencies they weren't born with
Ever stop a toilet at a close mates house
you weren't able to fix it, so their parents cleaned it out
even the simplest of occasions mark embarrassing locations
like calling out a name of a familiar friend
going as far as tapping and tapping again, only to find its a stranger with a familiar grin
"ohh what's happening"
you try to laugh and then
explain to him that it was a mistaken friend
sorry thought you were Jim
ever wear holy underwear and forget that a doctor's face would be there?
or pass wind while you laugh, then the smell of gas
not the laughing kind
has your friend to find a spot 3 spaces over to the left
you know
embarrassing moments we never forget

12/30

2009-04-10T23:58:00.002-04:00

I'm sorry that I don't feel sorry
we don't have souls
so
as you control yours please understand I
like you
have been created by the Divine
in fact I believe in Him as much as you do, that's how I survived
He supplied me with knowledge and a heart
like you people
we praise Him daily, just omit the steeple
He made us a bit smarter, that's how we traveled here
If survival of the fittest hasn't made anything clear
we have arrived
we aren't green with huge black eyes
we don't come in peace and fly
those God-awful saucers
I remember being told if you believed in us you don't believe in God
but He created us, we have no facade
we'll just replace you, first by extinguishing the turmoil you suffered this world to permit
A eutopia was what He wanted
yet, killing
hate
a lack of respect for Commandments, He demanded you love him!
We don't get jealous or place anything else above him
I am an alien, truly created in his image
coming to obliterate you when I'm finished this sentence

11/30

2009-04-10T23:36:00.002-04:00

Wow
Poetry is refreshing!
a true blessing, I mean
anytime you can rely on words to soothe the soul and tae control
no holds just assistance to fight the resistance as if we are in a war with stars
but we're poets
not superstars
our minds travel galaxies through time and space to connect to you in this place
at this time and what do you find
movement, metaphors
verse, some rehearsed others plainly stated,
deliveries reverberated and demonstrated to expose emotions
from cerebral cortex to toes
thoughts to omit smell so you can inhale it in your nose
and it seeps into your blood
heart rate increased, and the drama?
ceased because at least you've escaped on our asteroid belt
at least we can take you away and tell you how we've felt
Sometimes I love words so much I wish i couldn't even write em
sounds silly but I wish i could telepathically recite them
How enlightening
would it be if my generated visuals became pen thoughts
mastered but humbled
papers no longer end up crumpled because laced thoughts forgo flaws
pause.
a moment to plead to you,
I read what you need to do
that's let go
open arms to unfamiliar situations
live stress-free from life's complications
and listen
listen to verbs, words, metaphors and meanings
poetry is seeping with release and burning with conviction
sick on life?
poets can write you a prescription
It starts with diction from the heart, encryption near and far felt from sounds waves and historically marked on a page
poetry is ageless

10/30

2009-04-10T12:32:00.001-04:00

there's something about you that speaks more than just sexy
volumes of body language explain that you're exceedingly beautiful
I have internal documentation that when you love
you share the wonders of the foundation that the four letter word was based on
your love speaks great diction
as many have lived their life in fiction
i can see the description in your eyes
the summary of your heart has stanzas proving it's worth
I wish to indent your life and read in between your lines
all the manuscripts prior to our engagement left me unfilled
their stories short and sweet
yet I'm compelled to feel that I've begun reading the greatest story ever told
and if it were read aloud
without a doubt, Morgan Freeman would be reciting

This story is exciting
inviting,
touching
moving
honest
real
true
and it was written
So now that i've been livin'
and reading
I'm seeing my own life involved in the narrative
and I hope I'm a long lasting character
or that my description holds true to you
We're writing history
no mystery to the fact that our intersection was inevitable
So now the key is not to skip thru the pages
because the story we have is ageless
Even opinions from the Sages would deem this love gaugeless
so thru the stages to your arms
I'll read
and live
and live and read
and this will continue to be
your bestseller
and our greatest story.

9/30

2009-04-09T13:53:00.002-04:00

I wonder
after the seven days God used to create the world
The 8th was a time He had a moment to Himself
to think
to reflect what He had just completed
wondering what should've been omitted or deleted
on the 9th day of the first month He ever created
God may have just sat to write
enjoy the beautiful day He created and the wonderful night
He wrote on top of the stars and used the darkness of space as ink
God wrote in His own journal
pages constructed from the earth, binded by the trees
lines of loves marginalized by eternal memory
scripting in every language He fathomed would exist
The perfect poem
from the perfect being
The all seeing
all knowing
Intelligence forever growing
On my 9th day I look out at what He fabricated for me to appreciate
His journal probably has millions of words never even uttered
scribbles and errors,
mistakes and digressions
never existed until humans graced the planet
God probably wrote at the speed of sound
and thoughts traveling at the speed of light
He needed no incite
He never grew tired from writing, or weary for inspiration
His dedications to love
intended for motivation for us
He was the first poet
blessing lines unmarked by time

8/30

2009-04-08T12:34:00.002-04:00

It's at that point now
when the reality of loneliness sets upon me
an aura of solitude dominates me
and i never asked anything from you
i'm far from spoiled
and the necessity of love is not far from expectation
still
just as sane as my eyes lead hundreds to believe
i revert back to a desolate dominion
and you promised me poems
it wasn't a contractual agreement
but more of a requisite responsibility
you promised me poems and gave me excuses
told me poetry was useless
now i sit and wonder

7/30

2009-04-07T01:51:00.004-04:00

-headache is killing-

I'm tired
I crave sleep just as my eyelids desire to contact
but what disturbs my sleep is softer than slight touches
sensitivity due to luminosity keeps my activity on a regulated stillness
I suffer from no illness
just a headache
like an earthquake occurs from my heartbeat
then i hardly want to talk
I barely want to see, everything begins to effect me
quiet comedies like
the Cosbys can't calm me
maybe in dawn it'd be gone you see
hopefully
but hope can be
faint because
this aint no game
my head has no shame and it will maintain its current condition

Pillows feel as if they are stuffed with rolls of socks
i can't stop moving my head
i toss and turn in my bed and instead of subduing to a submitted sleep
I creep up to my computer and begin to use her
to complain about my head
which feels as if its expanding from the inside
and contracting from the outside
yet it hurts on all sides

Go away!
Leave me be, this is no condition for a writer you see
I can't call on my thoughts with a throb
I can't turn down the pain with a knob so internally I sob
as my inspiration becomes robbed and my motivation feels more like a job than a liberated feeling
I'm on the floor kneeling, looking toward the ceiling with my hands clasped
"Please oh please dissipate this destruction" I asked
still it persists
it never goes away
not with a wish
or a prayer
an advil
or a bayer
not with water
nor lack of fun
hiding from sun
or solitude from sound
It disappears without thought and dissolves with time
so I wait
then maybe later I'll be fine

6/30

2009-04-05T19:53:00.000-04:00

I have calculated my life's relationships through angles
yes geometric lines seemed to have designed the time i've spent with
fine dimes and mediocre maidens.
Like dragons I've slayed them
conquered quests through pairs of breasts, lines of lust
adjacent behaviors marked a true experience for my earlier endeavors

At one point and time me and the opposite would start out as dots pursing lines
starting our equal at our introductory phase, it would take seconds, not days
then a bend would amend the line we pursued, creating an angle appearing obtuse
or acute
nonetheless it was not straight
i've seen complete 90's in my day
a straight line hooking a perfect left right away
adjacent
perpendicular
intersecting
converging
often merging
but never parallel
until now
traveling exactly at the same rate, with the same curves, i'm never alone
as we travel together creating our road
if I ease right, shes at the same degree
if I lean left she's there right with me
parallelism
as taught in math, lines are meant to last forever
so as long as our angles remain the same
and the curves don't work our nerves
and the bends don't try to break us
and the geometry doesn't forsake us
we'll be just fine

5/30

2009-04-05T08:26:00.000-04:00

*notice 2nd and 3rd person combination was intentional*

lets write a poem together
you and me
you sit there and I'll be across
We'll write in synchronization, having a silent conversation
speak through your body language and i'll write through mine
stare at me through those big beautiful eyes
smile for me child, and send the heavens a reminder
of the angel they lost
'cause I was able to find her

I feel as if I'm living in slow motion
blinks and leisurely movement display emotion
I can tell she loves me just from touch of her hand
and the kisses of affection making me proud to be her man
She sits proud, pouring confidence in her posture
with an effortless elegance i'm reminded ever since I said hello
I was taken away
removed from the game
and remained in consistent thought for you,
yes she
I write in th3rd person and in second
because the second we talked in person you stained me
you've marked my soul
she has control
her body language says so
your body language tells me
she compels me to do the right thing
no matter the struggle or instance
you show me love is still in existence
so with assistance she helps me write a poem together
yeah
you helped me create this
she helped me make this

4/30

2009-04-04T18:29:00.002-04:00

madness has started to creep through the creases of my brain
no no I'm not going insane in fact I can't complain
I have a moment to refrain from usual activity
so i actively pursue thoughts as if I'm on a hunt
stalking through weeds of distractions
Yet I pursue on a deadline
because it's my own crunchtime to see if I can fill lines
with meanings in four poems in my home
at my table
and enable skills in presentation
yes I want them to stand tall in a tower
since I have written four poems within the hour
and hundreds of words within sixty minutes
I did it
but as I stare at the blank background and the blinking cursor
sentences begin blend and a collage of words paint my page
and i use my time left to create a maze
starting from the last sentence to the top and I can't stop
I must maneuver through the message so I can win the prize
the prize of pleasure in pleasing thoughts
the ability to connect fingers to keys and present words beautifully
yes my boredom has lead to appreciation
a month dedicated to writing
and through this i'm inciting stimulation of all kinds
so all can find inspiration and motivation through simple verse
a draft or two unrehearsed
where madness presents beauty
solitude can be truly rewarding when words come as fluid as tears
that fall from depressed expressionist with the lack of expression
Though in a recession i'm which with thought and wealthy in words
It's relaxing that my thoughts are tax-free and their generated income
feeds the needy
needing to eat off creativity
I have plates of knowledge and trays of inspiration to give.
Just don't rely on my words to live

3/30

2009-04-04T17:56:00.002-04:00

Loose words make up sentences according to my life
like promises seem to emphasize misses
They've missed their mark and missed the start to their meaning
Am I cynical for not believing in the words from my peers?
They are as much words as they are letters and the letters mean nothing solely independent from their tone and combination
Still the words mean nothing, so if they're meant to mean nothing
why do I as well as other hold on to something as if clinging to life support
the common retort is the uncommon excuse
a use for their time was better spent then being in the company of mine
I'm always fine and I'm never crying when promises are not kept
I've swept their dirt under rugs and place ear plugs to bounce their meaningless statements from my life
Still I do wonder, why say something with no intention of backing
I mean if your motivation to uphold is lacking, no need for backtracking on words holding potency as faint
as watered down beer
maybe that wasn't so clear
but what I mean is, I don't become offended when words intended
for actions are just distractions for inconvenient excuses
it's useless to do this
and you knew this
yet it's done
weak words heard all week

2/30

2009-04-04T17:30:00.002-04:00

sometimes words fail
yes like everything in life constructed by humans
words, strategically placed for expression and enjoyment have been null
and we often void their intention because
although placed for description that have proved the latter

I would have waited a lifetime to possess the love you have
sat on steps for days, committed to all work with no play
just to hear you say
I love you
yet, as powerful as it sounds now, to tell you how I felt for years
and explain the messaged in tears
words would have worked against me, so I sat in silence
silently and patiently waiting the moment to tell you how
love like ours was prophesied by Shakespeare
and it takes years to fully develop the love I've been blessed with
and I've messed with the thought of giving it to someone else
but now that I can't help but to purge my soul without control
I tell you now
because words would have failed then
and words wouldn't have worked when you were miles apart and you still had my heart
they wouldn't have had enough pull to touch your soul and massage your mind
so, with confidence I know that sometimes
Words fail

1/30

2009-04-04T17:16:00.002-04:00

Okay, A friend (MeaLee) informed me about Roger Bonair-Agard (Def Poet!) challenged poets to participate in 30 pieces in 30 days, since it is National Poetry Event. If you're a poet pick up your pen. I have to break four off today. They won't be sweet but it'll be fun!

Alright, cut the music
don't need anything to break the silence
not even the violence down the street
the sirens that compete with bullet sprays
even on beautiful days, such as this
and all i wish is for silence
a moment to hear the breeze
a chance to hear cracks in my knees as i kneel down to pray
begging for more silence
peace to find peace of mind and cease to grind for petty matters
climb up the metaphysical ladder and hear laughter
see smiles
take a view like one from an innocent child
I just need silence
so all i hear are clicks
and thoughts and clicks in between thoughts so letters punched in sound like rhythms from mind to matter
the silence shouts my thoughts and they hurl meanings at which I attempt to grasp
and attempt to last in this world, so loud with depression
so strong in crying out hate
silently wait
and allow me to think
think past the masks and fronts of what we see
think about what the world can bring
and not what is able to be taken
silence can't be heard over the hatin'
just one moment of pure quiet
stop being so defiant
I just want to write

I need you all to help me out on this...spread the word Fam!!

2009-03-30T20:16:00.003-04:00

April 17th 2009

7:00 PM

Poetic Pride

April is National Poetry Month, so come out and  enjoy a wonderful evening of talent from local poets.  The open mic will share thoughts and inspirations from creative minds of all sorts. Be apart of the  entertainment, apart of the inspiration and apart of  the appreciation for the words we plan to present.

Location

7361 Assateague Dr., Unit 1040,
Columbia, MD 20794

Coco’s Butter Café is located at the intersection of
Rt. 175 and Rt. 1 in the “new” Columbia East Marketplace!

From Columbia, MD:
Follow Rt. 175 East
Cross Rt. 1
Columbia East Marketplace is on the Right
Coco’s Butter Café is located behind the Organic Market "MOMS"

From Baltimore, MD (North):
I-95 South
Take exit 41- Rt. 175 (Jessup)
Cross Rt. 1
Columbia East Marketplace is on the Right
Coco’s Butter Café is located behind the Organic Market "MOMS"

From Washington, D.C. (South):
295 North
Exit - Rt. 175 (Columbia)
Drive approximately 3 miles
Columbia East Marketplace is on the Left
Coco's Butter Cafe is located behind the Organic Market "MOMS"

Eat this!

2009-03-27T11:26:00.000-04:00

Yes, this is Uh-Mare-Rick-Ah! Twenty dollars can guarantee you a near-death experience at the ballpark. As greedy as this disgustingly delicious burger makes you appear, it makes me wonder Are things really THAT bad? Seriously, if we can consume close to 5000 calories in one setting, and the novelty prize for completion is a t-shirt. Once again, we as a society reward glutinous, selfish, & arrogant behavior. While we scream for money, assistance and complain about the hard times. Seriously, think about it. In a parallel kind of way, America is based and built on the biggest (muscle cars), baddest (crazy criminals, violence off the charts, supersized military), most selfish ideals ever conceived. That's exactly why (well not exactly) when governments in Africa are run by a totalitarian leader, America shrugs and turns around, BECAUSE WE'RE JUST AS GREEDY!! (Okay there was too consipiracy for that thought.) I digress, but back to the burger, the representation of how our society loves BIG things, too much of everything, all I'm saying is it's a shame.

Money Money Money

2009-03-26T23:19:00.000-04:00

See I was listenin to Jim Jones album and I couldn’t help but notice, its all about the money. I read an interview where he sent a message to his former best friend and so-called brother from another mother Cam’ron, saying that money could renew their friendship. Really? Wow. You’ve known this guy since you were kids, grew up in the same building, got rich with him when you really had no career, and you say that money will bring back the good ol’ days? Hmm. I was listenin to a song by Drake, called “Successful.” The hook goes, “I want the money, money and the cars, cars and the clothes, the hoes, I suppose, I just wanna be successful.” Really? Wow. That’s your definition of success? I hate to get all righteous on you and whatnot, but try Martin Luther King Jr. or Barak Obama for examples of success. I was reading a story in the paper about some prick named Madoff who scammed people for billions of dollars. For what? Is it really worth thousands of people suffering because they trusted you with their life savings, so you can have a ridiculous amount of money, so much money you don’t even know what to do with it, at your disposal? AIG? Shit, I’m not even gonna get into that. See, life is bigger than that, at least to me it is. Life is…life. Appreciate it. Wake up in the morning and be thankful for it. I’m not preaching, but I didn’t always think this way. I used to take things for granted. I used to complain about dumb shit. “Aww man I got all these papers to write and classes all day tomorrow.” That’s definitely nothing to complain about. How about doing life in prison or walking from car to car on the 2 train asking for some money for lunch? There will never be another day where I don’t appreciate the life that I have, no matter how bad it gets. Sure, everyone wants to live comfortably, but money is a small thing. How about having an impact on someone’s life or making a difference in your community? Making a career out of money is useless. I think its lame as hell when people say that they are all about the money. That’s just as bad as hearing a high school basketball player say “if it wasn’t for basketball, I don’t know what I would do.” Really? Wow. So you’re pretty much saying, if you had a career ending injury tomorrow (totally not impossible), you would be a bum? Not good. Likewise, if you are all about the money, and the money just doesn’t swing your way for whatever reason, what do you have left? Or let’s say you do get the money. What next? Will it bring you happiness? I doubt it…

Anyway, enough preaching for me. I’m definitely not knocking anyone’s hustle. I just wish people would stop equating money with success. Get it? Money does not equal success. I’m new to this. I guess this can count as my very first blog. I hope you liked it.

Best Week Ever 3

2009-03-26T07:48:00.001-04:00

I continue to have re-occurring thoughts (dreams too). Not healthy.

I'm excited about this Thursday, I have a couple new pieces and a lot of interested poets!

I saw, rather, everyone saw me pretty drunk this work, now I have to see them sober today.

Irma Thomas has been on a serious rotation
"Do everything your heart desires, just remember I'll still be around! You're gonna come back, yes you're gonna come back, knockin' on my door!" - Women like this CEASE to exist. If they did, God bless them. I wouldn't be in such a rut.

Seriously, listen to "Ruler of my heart" classically sung by Miss Thomas. "When you're alone, the going gets rough, come back come back come back. I've had enough. Make me you're queen, happy again, hear my cry. He's my king." Need I say more? I may have lived my love life in a fantasy (As I've been told) but it sure wasn't inspired by movies... it was definitely music.

Every attempt I continue to make toward NYC has defaulted me right back to MD. Sometimes you're tested to see the strength of your desire. Other times you're rejected because you're aid is needed elsewhere. I constantly battle with the thought and my placement on the East Coast.

Change?

2009-03-25T11:57:00.001-04:00

Has the realm of spoken word transitioned to a spotlight representative of poetry? I for one am not a spoken word poet. I do not possess that much charisma on stage. I have written a few spoken word-type pieces but have not given the thought of going public with them. Yet, as I watch Def Poetry Jam seasons I see countless young performers speaking their pieces as spoken word artist. Which I believe takes a lot of character to perform, versus reading or reciting words conveying meaning through vocabulary. Although, if you can move a crowd without having to move much of yourself (physically) I believe you're talented.

I only mention this topic because as I see the older poets, the poets that have been around for decades, seasoned with skills and vocabulary. They read from a podium, a book, or a collection of notes. The younger generations seem to have subliminally denounced that method of performance. I plan to stick to what I know, the style, the delivery, the writing. I am poet, spoken word can be over there, I will remain WRITE here.

I sometimes wonder if poetry is it like Hip Hop? Where styles and methods combined with time create a new generation of artist/performer. Similar to how southern rap has become the money maker in the industry.

Just a thought.

Hip Hop's Own

2009-03-23T00:19:00.002-04:00

Just added to the roster of creative writings. Hip Hop's Own, my brother and closest friend from New York. Aside from my routine in writing, my friend will deliver New York perspectives, outside opinions, and observations of his own that will be collaborated on this site. Th3rd Avenue is not about me, but as a collection of events, artist, writers and people who want to be apart of a positive movement in the community. So embrace his ideas and perspectives as you brace me own, the feedback is always welcome.

Kidz

2009-03-21T14:27:00.000-04:00

Meteorologist
The boss of the astronauts
Who would have thought or conceived such a statement
Original
Creative
Full of amazement
These are the six year old children that make up my day
Cosby wasn’t kidding when he made a show off what they say
Lil’ bundles of germs
I mean joy
Amused by toys and crayons
Swings, slides & suckers
“You still live at home with you’re mother?”
-yes, I replied
“You need to grow up” she said without faulting in pride
I love what runs inside their mind
Simplistic, artistic, idealistic, optimistic,
Just pure innocence
I wonder why people careless to bother in the inquisitive realms of a child’s mind
It’s such a breath of fresh air.

Next Week!

2009-03-20T10:13:00.000-04:00

My friend Natasha, came through last Friday to "Jazz & Poetry" another success Th3rd Avenue event! This coming week I have Art & Poetry night, come and check out photography from Raymond Lucas as well as hear some very talented poets, one at which I will showcase today!

All Day I Write

2009-03-19T09:36:00.000-04:00

Since I couldn't get enough of this track. I took the instrumental and wrote a poem to it, it ended up sounding a bit more songy than poetic. But Lyrically the piece is written as a poem. "Who's judging me? | I keep it simple wouldn't you agree? | They still attempin' to step down my game.| I write for passion and not for the fame"

"What's in my brain? | It is unknown, but I'm feelin' insane. | Twisted logic, I'm confused again. | No one to turn to, I pick up my pen."

anyways it was fun, not tryin to get a deal or anything...

maybe ghost write tho lol

Hip Hop isn't dead yet

2009-03-18T16:30:00.000-04:00

Day n Nite
This guy Kid CuDi from The Cool Kids, is really a cool cat. This video/song has been in serious rotation. I think it is a statement that hip-hop is not dead. When cats like Asher Roth, The Cool Kids, Little Brother, Lupe Fiasco, Common, Talib Kweli, Jean Grae, Nas, Blu & Exile, and 88 Keys keep bringing different perspectives combined with lyrics, and laced over a nice beat. It's not dead yet, it's just distracted.

Compromise

2009-03-17T15:56:00.000-04:00

There comes a time when man has to decide whether want to wallow in solitude (puh loneliness) or do something we all love to be too proud to execute. Compromise. Not settle, but compromise. You can compromise on a decision without it becoming a settlement. So, when a man does figure a compromise is inevitable to endure companionship, they have to know it's a slippery slope. A cancellation on trip to Brazil is the beginning. Then night outs become limited, friends, hobbies, sports, extracurricular activites (you know what I mean). So yes, compromise, (sacrifice sounds too life changing for me) in order to suffer, I mean embrace happiness with another.

Best Week Ever 2

2009-03-16T18:50:00.004-04:00

New York, in the gray, in the cold, is still so beautiful
the aged gum stains on the pavement,
the rustling papers caught on edges of forgotten things
The diversity
The pride
The who's who, but you move to fast to care
the unlimited metro cards
the food.

Jazz & Poetry was a huge success
Thanks to Eugene Chapman (on the Sax)
Natasha Ramsey, Christopher Spicer, Brittany Watson, Shirely Brewer, Lynn McNamara, Latonya Lashawn and Coco's Butter Cafe

I want to wear suspenders because I feel so heavy

Still haven't paid for a praxis...subconscious restraint

"Yo, what happened?" New word of the spring to initiate a fight...hilarious

Feature Pic: Natasha Ramsey **Great artist!**

Best Week Ever 1

2009-03-09T22:11:00.003-04:00

Dad said he preferred someone for me, (first time ever)

I may have severed a (fragile) friendship, just by being a guy.

Spring is peering right around the corner

I watched the first episode of "For the Love of Ray J" and he's high as a kite.

Studying for the praxis is KILLING my creative vibe.

This time last year I was PACKING for Canada... this time... well I haven't left the building... yet.

I feel like the poetry game has been slackin'.

And thats th3rd's best week ever

Learning

2009-03-04T18:04:00.003-05:00

They say you gain something from everything in life. More importantly you learn lessons, and gain knowledge from mistakes and faults. They in life, do not own regrets, they will own you. So, instead of regretting a particular situation or outcome, take the necessary points from it in order to strengthen your next situation. Well, put this in terms of relationships and I can say I have "learned" a lot and gained a great sense of character from being in the relationship. AT first I was going to go over some of those things pertaining to the particular relationships, but I think I'll write a poem about, and it won't be on here. Maybe I will perform it at my next event, or maybe it will be in my next book of poems.

Franklin Ave (read this at my open mic)

2009-02-26T21:32:00.000-05:00

Franklin Ave
9/2/08

I passed by her on the 3 train
At first glance she appeared the same
Beautiful
Hair lays in place just partially caressing her face
Impossible to chase yet irresistible to not follow
I look up; take a swallow
Rise from my seat and begin speak
“hey, remember me?”
her facial expression told me unlikely
the moment seemed surreal
my emotions felt puerile yet I refused to yield.
She smiled and questioned about where I was destined
The conversation lessened because the doors moved in attracting directions
Trying to sever a spark where two hearts had soul aligned
Briefly defined as fate
The train rushed down the line as I kept speaking my mind
I yearn to interrelate
My ability to appreciate small meetings and simple interactions
She smiles and laughs when
I tell her an old joke
She told me back then
She thought I was consumed with hope
An idealist, encompassed with optimism
She read me saying no cynicism marked me
So you do remember?
“Yeah,” she commented “You kept it together
The brother that trudged through the stormy weather”
Intriguing further thought, I inquired about seeing her next week
Offering to get ice cream and take walk down the street
It’d be unique, the delight we’d partake
Unable to demonstrate, she has a hard time hearing
The train was so far down the tracks she couldn’t even see the 3 clearly
Sounds resonated through the tunnels, occluding my vocal chords peaks
The only echoes she hears are from 2, W and Z

Pill to extinguish love

2009-02-25T19:49:00.002-05:00

"I wish I could take a pill and relinquish this pain, forget I was ever in love."
"Why would you want to do that, it's hard enough to find love in the first place?"

It was something to that effect, but the quote was deep and touching. Came from a scene in The Women. It's true though, it's hard enough to find someone to share love with, whether you have to endure through the pain or the pleasure, cherish the moments you share the feeling of love. I wouldn't take that pill either, maybe a pill to forget some people and moments I passed through.

What do you know

2009-02-25T19:36:00.002-05:00

In every occupation I have peeked interest within, I have had the same response (which used to deter my inquiry): "You don't want to do this." "You don't want to work here." "You don't want to teach here." Or "You could do much better elsewhere." As if they sat on my right shoulder and became a doubtful conscience of employment. So according to them I don't want to teach in Baltimore, work on a professional race team, work in a race shop, become a State's Attorney, Police in Baltimore, work in D.C. or become a snowmaker at a slope (even though it would have paid off on the mountain.) I know this is typical America to hate their job and loathe there life but where is the happiness when are we allowed to work and be pleased to do it versus count the days to retire?? Just like anything else (marriage, love, hobbies and friendships) things can and will always be rocky, that's inevitable, but for once can someone embrace my interest and tell me why I'd fit in versus why I would run?

Dear Father

2009-02-23T18:02:00.003-05:00

I am literally a starving artist
shit I'm a starving human. I don't have to be artistically inclined, intellectually inclined, or financially declined denied. It seems institutionally designed for me to be behind. Can someone remind me about the American Dream, yeah it was implemented to make people reach and for 85% of the population to see others success. I'm a testimony of struggle. While the media, (radio, internet, Tv, magazines) show so much light in such a dark path that highschool nor college prepares us for. Bill to Bill I connect them like webs and swing from check to bill like tarzan, UAAAHAHHHHHAiiiieeeeeAHHAHHHHH... man when will this misery,...this this subtle unhappiness subside.

Being in 1st 2nd 3rd is looking like the best occupation. Most the kids just look concerned on whether they will reach recess ...not success. Live life at five feet in front of you. Must be nice. I digress and back to suppress this shit.

A second to breathe

2009-02-22T21:35:00.002-05:00

It's not that I'm neglecting you (blog) it's just that I have 1) been a little busy

and 2) I just don't know what to say.

Watch the Academy Awards tonight, watch Slumdog Millionaire cleanup...and it should that and Benjamin Button were movies that set high bars to beat. We'll see, tomorrow when I look up the results!

**Supermodel on the set!!!**

what day is it man?

2009-02-20T19:36:00.000-05:00

wish me luck for Sunday you guys

You so ugly, I flushed you last night

2009-02-19T18:06:00.000-05:00

Ugly is in. That's what I'm hearing, that's what I'm seeing. The ugliest cat on a stroll is the one with the baddest woman on his arm. Not light skin, not dark completion (the best of course) but just straight scutterbucket. The roles can be swapped too! Hot ass girl with this ugly carp man or a unattractive (turd) woman with a handsome fellow. This is the millennium baby! Too lazy to talk so we text, to lazy to court so we facebook, myspace, tag, eharmonize a mothaf&@#$%. Oh well, so yeah it is what it is, my time is on the chopping block and the cycle will have to revert to light skin then to me again, by then i should be approx. 43 years old. Whew, and I thought i'd have to wait forever