Til Death Do Us Part (with Sade Council)

Til Death do us Part

I guess that if that statement were to be infused into reality

There would be a huge spike in this nation’s rate of mortality

It’s a tragedy, what was once considered a sacred act, and a rarity, a blessing, and an apex of loving sentiment,

Seems to have been commercialized, immortalized not for what it symbolized, but for the event.

Now more than ever divorce seems more eminent,

Marriages only sought after for the wedding’s eloquence and decadence,

Not for the union’s relevance,

But when the mist settles one sees the true colors

As evidenced by earth tone, yet to establish its roots in a society where we all wish to climb the highest tree, but are afraid to appreciate the fruits

It seems that marriages are losing their temporal magic

Failing to withstand the test of time as those joined recoil from solutions

Opting to take the easy way out and leave,

Then the process of re-starting your search, is longer than your process to grieve

Because you wipe your hands and move on to the next…

Because after 6 months he or she wasn’t what you thought

not nearly what you expected 

Save for the physical, you realize they weren’t a match for your preferences

So you divorce and claim “irreconcilable differences”

as if your whole marriage meant a mere pittance

But then your bridal shower guests and bachelor party attendees are suppose to pity your plight? 

Your foresight lacked the ability to clearly see beyond the rose-colored glasses while wedding planning...

Since that's all you were planning...

Preparing for a party, not a family

Perpetuating homes broken, or better yet never formed

When you should have been formidable, your behavior nearly despicable

Your will to fight, absent

And now you're destined to be a single parent

So the question remains….Where did it all go wrong?

When did the concept of marriage become what it is now?

When did it become socially acceptable to utter the vows “ ‘til death do us part”, but then slowly drift apart, Find a new beginning only to utter the words AGAIN?

Isn’t ‘love’ the basis behind marriage?.....

The Past Presents the Future

An old head approached us and asked us a question that was so random but contained so much sincerity that I had to stop and answer the mental plea

 “Are you still a slave?”

And as the question sunk into my soul, in and out every crevice of being as I thought of the person that I am today…I responded
I said the masters of my ancestors won’t reenact the past and attack us.
You weren’t expecting that answer, but for me to overreact to
A question out of evidence as the relevance doesn’t attract us.
You see, the future is flying as we are eyeing the sky because it outlasts us.

Education for most is a winged zebra that has flown past us.
The future is a mystery probably filled with misery
As memories of today fade into the dark abyss of history.
No noose I choose to place around my heart. Our lives are taken in stride.
Any man can kill, but it is suicide by letting him break your pride.
For you to close your eyes for eleven months and then blame what happened in the past 364 days
On what happens is disrespectful to your future, my present, and their past
And don’t act like you don’t.

I won’t hold my words.
I will spark revolution in this institution and reroute the dreams that are being deferred
By lack of education, this added absence of a drive to gain knowledge,
And the increasing number of black men quitting after their first semester of college

Not merely because of money, but because some do remain stagnant in their beliefs
You can blame the white man, but you need to take accountability for yourself.
Stop holding out your hands for help, and start helping yourself.
Place ignorance high on these shelves and let the dust collect
While I correct your direction and redirect your respect.

The old man shot back at me and stated the essence
Of why he asked that question not expecting us to have learned the correct lessons.
He said I embody the past and he will present the future
And If I’m willing to convey this openly, I’m giving a blessing
To the millions of stories currently being created and based
On currency, ghetto militaries, and bass.

Where we have given up our whips and chains for…..whips….and chains..
I said the truth is that the ruthlessness of the souls
Don’t pay attention to the detail as we retell their woes.
Their mindstate of what their mind states are constantly adding us
To percentages and as I write these words, they don’t realize they are the main characters.
But, if you believe there is a chance, I’ll provide the pages to the book
And hope they release the stereotypes and take a look.

My Writers Block

As I sit here with an empty tablet and a pallet that has yet to be satiated,

I, feverishly tap my pen against the desk, in hopes of blemishing this tablet with my thoughts

However I am stuck..A constant and consistent case of writers block

One says that a poem is never finished but abandoned,

However if one has poetic thoughts and has yet to place them on a sheet…the poem is then neglected and dampened awaiting the warmth of a poets eyes to ease the words onto it

Whereas a vision can be used as a conduit of ones thoughts, but if ones thoughts are dangerously intertwined it makes poetic creativity destitute.

So I wonder in dispute as to how to approach the beginning of this piece

But so much is on my mind I stop and retreat in defeat because my vision and my thoughts do not cross the same intersection so that they can meet,  creating this fork in the road of my cerebellum that is begging me to go left, but I am so lost I don’t have a sense of which way that is.

So I stop…and I

Think about the reasons that I write…

I think about what makes my pieces, although seen as the same as thousands of people, remarkably unique..

I think about the beginning of my journey of being able to speak by use of a single, yet powerful part of a persons being that if used the wrong way can cause harm…the mind

And…as those thoughts being to formulate, my hand begins to hastily write in accordance to the thoughts that I have..

And at that very moment, the fork in the road converges into one

And the writers block that has been strategically placed thus causing the road to be closed for repairs is now “under construction”

As this road has now become a single entity of my thoughts, visions and desires

I look down at my pallet and it is now saturated with the blood that flows from my pen, 

thus providing a literary IV giving the sheet a voice, 

making it as vibrant as a figurative vagabond that has found life and

presenting a mentally assembled case of literal remedies that essentially can give whoever’s eyes fall upon it the utter feeling of pleasantry or jealousy, depending on the intensity and complexity of their mental dexterity

And the melodic chemistry of words, fragments and sentences flow together as one as an indicator of my integrity as I continue along this path unregrettably while planting seeds of my utter being ever readily, in hopes that they grow into trees of my inner identity

As I realize that my writing, and my work isn’t created as a  dependency of things that I think that people allegedly wish to see but in all actually I do this…to create and strengthen my legacy