Idle time is truly the devil's playground.
This morning I woke up, not with thankful prayers on my mind like I usually do. This morning I woke up thinking and I quote, " I have nothing to do. Maybe I should throw away the future that I have coming to me and go and kidnap the girl that did me wrong last month."
That's crazy right?
But in my world of insanity that's my reoccurring thought.
A man's greatest hell is a bad woman.
Pimps, Thugs and hooligans
Maybe their worlds were birthed by the heart break of
a bad woman.
I love my woman but I hate my bitch
It's a fool's thought who thinks his world will change
once he becomes rich.
Kidnap, rape and murder
The inspired thoughts
from my love and hate for
Her.
Am I less of a man because I blame a woman
but who will stand up and clap
If I say it was I who allowed that.
Hear my plea.
Would my life be better if it were only me?
Or should I be grateful to know that the lord loves
And so life is not ended with
suffering and misery.
Or is it my foolish pleasures and insanity's love
for idle time that keeps me stagnated and entertaining
his company.
My brother told me,
"If money is the root of all evil, then a bitch has a quarter on every dollar."
But then I look at my daughters
and know that they have no quarters
on any man's dollars.
It's d'evils and a foolish man's pride
that keeps him pulling his hair
and wanting to holler.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
"World builder"
"Some women like to say that it takes more than love to build a relationship. Those are the disillusioned women who have never found the right kind of love to believe in."
Love is the world builder's grain of sand.
The nucleus or the atom.
The foundation of Adam.
"World builder"
All I need is you
to build my world.
A heart given
is the building blocks
or the breath of air for the living.
The real fucking reason
for me to keep on breathing.
The unconditional sunshine for my every season.
Desire is the spark before fire.
The oxygen that causes smoldering embers
to burn higher.
Love will make me take the nothing that I am
and become something more than a man.
Its the destroyer of kings
And the wonder
that makes immortals want to be
normal beings.
I started writing this a couple months ago but I never posted it because I thought that it was to short and not adequate for the title. But as I re-read it, I thought that maybe it hit home with what it was saying but as always, I'll let you be the judge.
Love is the world builder's grain of sand.
The nucleus or the atom.
The foundation of Adam.
"World builder"
All I need is you
to build my world.
A heart given
is the building blocks
or the breath of air for the living.
The real fucking reason
for me to keep on breathing.
The unconditional sunshine for my every season.
Desire is the spark before fire.
The oxygen that causes smoldering embers
to burn higher.
Love will make me take the nothing that I am
and become something more than a man.
Its the destroyer of kings
And the wonder
that makes immortals want to be
normal beings.
I started writing this a couple months ago but I never posted it because I thought that it was to short and not adequate for the title. But as I re-read it, I thought that maybe it hit home with what it was saying but as always, I'll let you be the judge.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Old flames
When old flames die down
and become flamming embers
sometimes its not our place
Or authority to fan them embers
and make them burn again.
Flames are meant to die for a reason
and when we play with fire
Eventually we'll all get burnt.
Our hearts are furnaces
And love is an uncontrollable fire.
We love the warmth of an open hearth
but discarded embers is just that,
Embers meant to be discarded.
Not reminiscent flames
meant to be rekindled.
The excitement of fresh fires burning
Is new flames a blazing
And the crackle of new experiences.
Old flames
Is just new caked up heartbrakes
and not meant to be revisited.
I went back to an old flame
That was great when it was young.
The passion was uncontrollable
And the desire was flammable accellerants,
Alas, time and wisdom
has since become the maturity
That is the extinguisher
And I'm not all that young any more.
My heart still desires
An uncontrollable fire
For it's furnaced fashioned walls
but the chimney of the mind
Still remembers
Flames that left unhealthy soot.
Dead, dry twigs of loneliness
And the splinters of depression is no comparison
to the new yule logs of refreshing seasons of happiness.
New flames burn new and exciting trails
And the unknown fears of blinding, blue blazing passion
is gasolines flowing towards lit matches littered at our feet.
Who wants to kick a match
that'll set a spark
to burn new flames
And leave old flames to smolder in the dark?
and become flamming embers
sometimes its not our place
Or authority to fan them embers
and make them burn again.
Flames are meant to die for a reason
and when we play with fire
Eventually we'll all get burnt.
Our hearts are furnaces
And love is an uncontrollable fire.
We love the warmth of an open hearth
but discarded embers is just that,
Embers meant to be discarded.
Not reminiscent flames
meant to be rekindled.
The excitement of fresh fires burning
Is new flames a blazing
And the crackle of new experiences.
Old flames
Is just new caked up heartbrakes
and not meant to be revisited.
I went back to an old flame
That was great when it was young.
The passion was uncontrollable
And the desire was flammable accellerants,
Alas, time and wisdom
has since become the maturity
That is the extinguisher
And I'm not all that young any more.
My heart still desires
An uncontrollable fire
For it's furnaced fashioned walls
but the chimney of the mind
Still remembers
Flames that left unhealthy soot.
Dead, dry twigs of loneliness
And the splinters of depression is no comparison
to the new yule logs of refreshing seasons of happiness.
New flames burn new and exciting trails
And the unknown fears of blinding, blue blazing passion
is gasolines flowing towards lit matches littered at our feet.
Who wants to kick a match
that'll set a spark
to burn new flames
And leave old flames to smolder in the dark?
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Reality
For my facebook status I wrote, "Why do we keep going back when we know that our yesterdays aren't as good as our presents."
What I realized about myself and more than likely about the rest of the world is that the great majority of ourselves are insane. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
We go back to pain daily and over and over again because it is familiar to us and to do something different and new is unknown and bone chilling scary.
To keep it on the I, I'm scared of my own success. For years I've known that I have a knack for this writing thing. I've always known that if I really invested a full hundred and fifty percent of my time in my writing I can really blow up and be successful, but like so many other individuals that recognize their talents and potential half way we know so well that there is so many other forces and woes holding us back.
My demons are the other negative talents that I have.
Apart from being a talented writer, I'm a gifted salesman and I mean really gifted. I can sell shit to a toilet (lol). It's my greed that really holds me back. The glory days of my yesteryears and all the other under the table hustles and back room dealings. Chasing the wrong dreams of profit has always kept me going or looking back into a darkness that'll keep me blind sided or better yet blinded to what can really propel me ahead. Dropping our baggage and letting go of our negative past is what will help us move forward and leave the insanity behind us.
Thanks for listening.
What I realized about myself and more than likely about the rest of the world is that the great majority of ourselves are insane. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
We go back to pain daily and over and over again because it is familiar to us and to do something different and new is unknown and bone chilling scary.
To keep it on the I, I'm scared of my own success. For years I've known that I have a knack for this writing thing. I've always known that if I really invested a full hundred and fifty percent of my time in my writing I can really blow up and be successful, but like so many other individuals that recognize their talents and potential half way we know so well that there is so many other forces and woes holding us back.
My demons are the other negative talents that I have.
Apart from being a talented writer, I'm a gifted salesman and I mean really gifted. I can sell shit to a toilet (lol). It's my greed that really holds me back. The glory days of my yesteryears and all the other under the table hustles and back room dealings. Chasing the wrong dreams of profit has always kept me going or looking back into a darkness that'll keep me blind sided or better yet blinded to what can really propel me ahead. Dropping our baggage and letting go of our negative past is what will help us move forward and leave the insanity behind us.
Thanks for listening.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Freestyle
I'm sorry that I haven't been updating my blog like I should have. Life is keeping me running in an track and field of obstacles.
A colleague of mines challenged me to use ten words to do some creative writing. I haven't done it in a long while and I only had about 8 minutes to do it.
The words were:
Successful
Rebel
Pain
Hope
Shadow
Arrive
Around
Misunderstood
Train
Cooperation
When I finally did the task I realized that I had a lot of stress and pain within me that I'm supressing with phony smiles and fake laughter.
But the task allowed me to breath and vent and I am greatful for doing it. Please tell me, what did you get from my words and what can you give from these same ten words?
This is what I got:
I'll be a successful rebel
When I'm able to rebel against
The oppressive system
that causes me
so much pain
in the hopes of having
the one good hope
to overcome the shadows of depression
and arrive in an contigency of love
that will surround me
and allow me
to spread around the love
of the misunderstood youth
that will train me
to live with my enemies
in cooperation
A colleague of mines challenged me to use ten words to do some creative writing. I haven't done it in a long while and I only had about 8 minutes to do it.
The words were:
Successful
Rebel
Pain
Hope
Shadow
Arrive
Around
Misunderstood
Train
Cooperation
When I finally did the task I realized that I had a lot of stress and pain within me that I'm supressing with phony smiles and fake laughter.
But the task allowed me to breath and vent and I am greatful for doing it. Please tell me, what did you get from my words and what can you give from these same ten words?
This is what I got:
I'll be a successful rebel
When I'm able to rebel against
The oppressive system
that causes me
so much pain
in the hopes of having
the one good hope
to overcome the shadows of depression
and arrive in an contigency of love
that will surround me
and allow me
to spread around the love
of the misunderstood youth
that will train me
to live with my enemies
in cooperation
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Guest poet
It's been awhile since I've posted. That's because I've been so busy trying to promote my book as well as attempting to be signed by a literary agent. Hopefully now within my busy schedule I can get back on track.
I'm proud to present, for the first and hopefully many times over a guest poet. My first guest poet's name is Lynnette Powell but goes by the powerful handle of Latifah. Her work is powerful, heart felt and not for the faint of heart. Keep an open mind and feel her pain.
"Time and time again" (Africans not your friend)
Time and time again
I ask simple questions
trying to be your friend:
But now I've learned;
Your friendship
cannot be earned!
* * *
Why? Why? Must I ask?
Does being your friend
Mean kissing your ass?
* * *
Tell me
what is the act?
Should I ride you
like you ride the white man's back?
I'm so angry and sad
that before I do that:
I'd rather have a fucking heart attack!
And what I'm expressing
is not no bullshit rap!
* * *
It's so damn sad
And such a shame!
When blacks keep playing
the white man's game!
* * *
There's no more being told verbally
what to do!
Because we do everything
On an unconscious cue!
* * *
They can barely talk
barely read!
Yet they have the nerve to act
as if they don't bleed!
* * *
Like they're over here doing us a favor!
It's funny
ignorance won't allow them to understand the flavor!
Like the looks of African Americans
can't be savoured!
* * *
We're the sweetest fruit upon this earth!
Because of our ancestors
we are the cream of American Black Birth!
* * *
Stop forgetting
It's because of us!
That your able to come over here
and ride a bus!
So what's the big fuss?
I guess its that Africans
have no trust in us!
Shit like that
makes me wanna cuss:
Yet I write in my book
that's a must!
* * *
Or I take it to GOD!
Who I know would never rob me
Of who I am
Or where I'm from!
Because GOD is the CRUST!
And never the CRUMB!
By Latifah
I'm proud to present, for the first and hopefully many times over a guest poet. My first guest poet's name is Lynnette Powell but goes by the powerful handle of Latifah. Her work is powerful, heart felt and not for the faint of heart. Keep an open mind and feel her pain.
"Time and time again" (Africans not your friend)
Time and time again
I ask simple questions
trying to be your friend:
But now I've learned;
Your friendship
cannot be earned!
* * *
Why? Why? Must I ask?
Does being your friend
Mean kissing your ass?
* * *
Tell me
what is the act?
Should I ride you
like you ride the white man's back?
I'm so angry and sad
that before I do that:
I'd rather have a fucking heart attack!
And what I'm expressing
is not no bullshit rap!
* * *
It's so damn sad
And such a shame!
When blacks keep playing
the white man's game!
* * *
There's no more being told verbally
what to do!
Because we do everything
On an unconscious cue!
* * *
They can barely talk
barely read!
Yet they have the nerve to act
as if they don't bleed!
* * *
Like they're over here doing us a favor!
It's funny
ignorance won't allow them to understand the flavor!
Like the looks of African Americans
can't be savoured!
* * *
We're the sweetest fruit upon this earth!
Because of our ancestors
we are the cream of American Black Birth!
* * *
Stop forgetting
It's because of us!
That your able to come over here
and ride a bus!
So what's the big fuss?
I guess its that Africans
have no trust in us!
Shit like that
makes me wanna cuss:
Yet I write in my book
that's a must!
* * *
Or I take it to GOD!
Who I know would never rob me
Of who I am
Or where I'm from!
Because GOD is the CRUST!
And never the CRUMB!
By Latifah
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Good looking!!!
I made my first sale of my new book, "Life: A murderer's love story". Thanks to my man big Bruce. Thanks a lot. I really appreciated that.
I'm a poet who writes hood novels. I use these novels just like I use my poetry. They're a vent for my pain and emotions, some would say the blood lust and malice that lurks in their hearts. But that's the beauty of writing, we can take all the hurt, pain and darkness within us and turn it into something beautiful and promising, instead of turning our lives into something destructive and senseless.
Poets and writers alike come and join me and support our works.
"Life: A murderer's love story" available @ www.createspace.com/3676589 or http://www.amazon.com/
I'm a poet who writes hood novels. I use these novels just like I use my poetry. They're a vent for my pain and emotions, some would say the blood lust and malice that lurks in their hearts. But that's the beauty of writing, we can take all the hurt, pain and darkness within us and turn it into something beautiful and promising, instead of turning our lives into something destructive and senseless.
Poets and writers alike come and join me and support our works.
"Life: A murderer's love story" available @ www.createspace.com/3676589 or http://www.amazon.com/
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