Culmination of things - poem

Culmination of things..

I started off with a hair tie

Her hair would fly in any direction momentum would drive

Releasing in quantities that strands were no longer counted

Frustrating at first then it all amounted to smiles because it meant her presence

Then it was the bra, containing beautiful mountain peaks that leave me in awe

I never her saw her coming in my direction, once she stepped forward she became part of my reflection

I still have it still in my drawer, maybe she'll come back for more?

Next it was her shoes, not just a pair but two

Left to remind me that she's walked in this door,

She's walked through many times, leaving her shoes meant good news,

Right?

I washed her shirt, it was left under the bed, 

After such amazing connections and mentally getting head, I was enameled with pride

She became a means for my happiness to thrive

I realized now, I could survive

Then it was a toothbrush

   A real brush

Hair spray

    Shampoo

And facial cleanser

She knew the code to my house, containing the key to my heart

It went from seriously loving, to seriously living

My heart I was seriously giving.

Then one by one those items began to vanish 

I managed to hold on to the bra, a toothbrush hidden among things 

The last bit of shampoo I am using, just so it doesn't go to waste

The cleanser to clear and freshen her face...gone

The strands of hair, subtle reminders of what was here.

I find them once in a while, wondering should I steer clear?

She moved into my mind, and her presence in my house was well defined

But as good things come to an end, thus to begin natural order

She lost that loving feeling, as mine was still bursting through the ceiling

Her shoes were never retrieved, collecting dust but its her reprieve

A symbol that she has walked through the door, maybe she'll walk again

Or I can stare at those black heels and just pretend...

Captured at Savage

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

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

Mom doing what she does best.

Behind the scenes @ the R&H Fashion Show

and so

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you mother nature

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

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!

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

"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

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

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.