Man In the Mirror (with Alissa Cheatham)

The intangible sometimes seems more real than what's in front of you

Perception... the brain’s use of  synapses to create what it believes to be true

And these mental receptions of the intangible,

seems to take such a uniform shape that we perceive it be real..but it's an illusion...Mirage

And we're so thirsty to quench the thirst of these wants that we forget what we know

End up face first in the harsh reality of those sand dunes
Constantly asking yourself what do you have to prove?
Its crazy that your need to satisfy the opinions of those
that are meaningless in the everyday occurances of your life
makes your illusions cognizant causing confusion.

To the point where you believe the mirage of the front facing facade that when you are out the spotlight you do not recognize who you are anymore....Blurred Lines.
Tryna remember who you are but can only remember who you were told to be
Open your eyes wide and there's no change
Blood shot red is all that remain
But this won't go away with some visine

No, this will require life altering surgery.
Pure pain and purgatory
Surgical tools and devices used to pierce and prod at the inner idiosyncratic fibers of your life
in order to perform a transplant.
The surgeon is terrified cause this was a very dangerous procedure
Whispers among the nurses....

Will you recover?
Recover who you are?
Recover the morales you once had?
Recover those thoughts that gave your life meaning?
Doctor! We're losing the heart beat....

You see the white light and voices familiar...
decide to go near
only to see the Blank faces...
of the people that you tried to seek approval from as you realize that they too...were lost
The blind leading the blind through the brailled stilllifes of what we think is still... life
Sheep...misguided by the wolf in its own clothing designed to slowly eat away at them until its potential downfall

Mystification...
So what do you now that you know the truth
Choice is simple... Red or blue?
What do you do with this oppurtune moment that has presented itself to you.
a voice in the distance, something so familiar to you, something you use to confer with everyday but with all the changes you decided to locked away
You realize the more you think about this choice the louder this voice gets...
You hear your conscience tryna to break free of those chains you placed
And when you break free scars from those chain  remain... As a reminder
That the only image you should see when you look in the mirror is you

MTA (With Britt Jones (@goldie_locz)

Some love stories have peculiar beginnings. You never know how, or where, you will meet your next love. 

8:01..(Her)

A deliverance of time I become used to on this trek of mine and I continue this grueling 9-5 grind

Waking up to the blistering sounds of alarm screams and

a layover of the night before beams..."get your life in order"

Yet the seams.. of my world are unraveling for I have been a consistent partner to empty hopes and lonely nights

Heaviness aloots my soul beckoning with refusals to get up

The yawns of tiredness become abrupt

In adjacent to the lethargic movements rattling corrupt

I need to get a move on but this love thing has got me struck

8:30..

I finally make my way to this 4 or 5 train yet still with pessimistic thoughts rattling my brain

Another day Another dollar

Another sight of blue collars working harder then they need

And a classless brother tryna to holla

So distractions are muted by the appearance of this music ...I uprooted on my itunes

Playlists hit the screen and my mind ejaculates thoughts of a sound that has hit the spot

Ne-soul rhythms preaching

Another Ledisi song teaching

Till the serene sounds are no longer found...

8:08. (Him)

Another heartbreak, my dreams of no longer being single becomes shattered with the sound of my alarm clock and daybreak as I

Awake again to another day of the left side of my bed being alone, creases perfect and pillow without an imprint because my queen size bed is missing a queen

Cop sirens ablaze in the background as I realize it is another day where I make a dollar while my bosses make ten

Mind and body screams ‘5 more minutes’ and thinking of ways to corroborate why today I will be late but alas…I’m awake

Shuffling my feet to the conformities of the common white collar work day...

(Her)

Realizing I dozed off the bellowing of those sweet sounds now fade

Eyes blazing in my direction for my head bobbled to my neighbor

Body ...still tired from last night’s labor

Fumbling around the depths of my bag to gather myself

Yet something doesn’t feel right

Is it the shallow cries of beggars whose circumstances leave them with no shame

Or the psychological hit city dwellers that spit game

Nah it has to be the urban phenomenon of dances famed

Either way my delusions are misconfigured

Tapping my foot in anticipation of the next stops yet delays at Fulton have me in utter aggravation

So I try to put out positive thoughts cause the next time I’m late won’t end great...

(Him)

8:47

After a delay because of train traffic ahead,

which seems to symbolize the train traffic in my head blocking the positive thoughts from arriving on time

I Ffnally await the 4 or 5 at 125th street,

an all too familiar place,

which welcomes me with the sight of a guy selling candy,

Not for a basketball team, but to keep out the streets,

and the 19 year old homeless man awaiting to ask if we have a dime to spare so he can have something to eat

However all of this becomes shielded from my thoughts,

pessimistic in nature, thoughts of maybe this is the day where I lock eyes with a woman

and possibly can lead to the happiness that I seek and that she was always out there and maybe today we get the chance to meet...

But until then I listen to the storytelling of Nas as he provides that nostalgic rhythm which allows me to

Forget about these thoughts temporarily,

as I listen to his prose about his daughter or his meals of syrup sandwiches and sugar water

….I…. close my eyes…

Thinking of the most beautiful woman, one who possesses that rare trinity of intellect, beauty and true personality

That if her touch was named forever then I have entered the realm of infinity

As I am cast into this omnipotent spell, holding me completely in thrall physically, mentally and emotionally

A beauty unseen, challenging me to unravel its true roots

Beckoning me to introduce myself, I approach…and as I begin she says...

“Stand clear of the closing doors please”…

Awakening me from this daydream while

I again look around and realize that this dream…was only a dream and that woman that I envisioned was only the figment of an imagination that seems to be so vivid that I can almost feel her tender touch against my skin akin to how it feels to be in love.

So I turn up the volume to my music attempting to drown my thoughts which seem to be futile..

Fulton St…

Almost at my destination…but we aren’t moving, as if time is at a standstill…and that’s when I see her…

(Her)

Muscling up the power to put forth a smile as I encounter a man just short of a mile

In my mind thinking ...oh boy let me conclude this observance in my train chronicles file

So we exchange glances as though paths were already met

The screeching of the next stop disrupts the connections

and there's still a lust In the air I must now mention

Its as if my body created this weird stringent tension

The only thing my eyes would elude to was this man

Blurriness eclipsed over every distraction

As me and him formulated this love story interaction

Kinda like that mutual silent dialogue where morse codes get communicated through body languages and I sure nuff was relinquished of any previous anguishes ...that made my morning blues

You see I’m not one for the hype

Cause the usual’s of these lames only wanna pipe

Therefore I shake my head to rid myself of this occurrence

And slowly drain out the malignancies of false hopes with some more of these R&B tracks that make me cope...

with this sickness...

(Him)

She is...The ultimate in feminine pulchritude...and at this moment my mood brightened

Her presence brightens my gloom, her bronze skin,

her dreadlocks keeping my heart deadlocked as I figuratively pinch myself to ensure that I am not daydreaming again

All others are paled beside her as I see none but her on this crowded train.

This…is the true beauty that I envisioned

That all natural no frills, come as you are beauty

The no weave, make-up or jewelry, but can still turn heads without effort beauty

That gift from God that I know was only sent for me beauty

As if she were carefully crafted from the finest and rarest minerals

Such that if her beauty was classified as skin deep she is close to the bone marrow

As I feel her marrow intertwine with mine… our eyes lock

And as I stare into her eyes I am hoping that is will lead to the maze and eventually the doorway of her heart

And I am willingly lost… praying that this delay lasts forever...

Objectification

Freud said it best

and all of us believe it

that you sistas

envy us brothers,

and it was all

because of our penis

this penis

thinking on its own

often destroying homes

infused with testosterone

running like a mad man

even destroying his own

this penis

big, black, or my case honey brown penis

brings domination to black homes while

beating wives into submission

and children, love is missing

‘cause “i’m the man of this house

and i’ll swing a big stick to prove it.”

black eyes blue

and rib’s almost broke as

life seeps away

with black hands

on black throats.

that penis

engages in power struggles

head to head

in corporate boardrooms

resulting in modern day

Watergates, Enron, and MicroSoft gloom

and poor men

minimum wage-hued

are left in unemployment lines

as swinging sticks

smoke cigars

in poker played

back rooms.

that penis

truly the heart’s cock-block

keeping you lover for loving- emotionally

‘cause physicality has the heart

she wants feel love but

he hits and quits – lust

and she’s left to feel empty while

he’s satisfied with heartless thrusts

full of perversion

and stolen lives lived

wives beaten into submission

innocent, anal ripped deals

So…is this penis

testosterone filled

really the cause for envy?

I am Poverty

I am…

The pandemic in society that has shaped families since the beginning of time.

Where once it has been established…it seems to span generations

Seeping through the course of the veins within the blueprint of a household

 like a Cancer

Where families hope and pray about when and where they will get their next meal

Meager rations that have to be divvied up amongst 5,

but only enough was made for 2,

guaranteeing that you will go to bed hungry.

Where mom is always the last to eat because she needs to make sure

that her precious pearls eat before feeding herself

More sadder days than Saturdays

Where being selfish doesn’t come into play,

because there is barely anything for self

Meanwhile, mothers try to make sure that their child’s pants are sewn,

because that is his only pair

And fathers have to crazy glue his child’s sneakers together,

because he must wear them until his last wear

A true testament of started from the bottom,

but the bottom has no boundaries

I am…

the quintessential anecdote that keeps families together ,

as struggle has a weird way of uniting the souls of the needy…and I have seen it all

I’ve seen it all…

I've seen what I can do to others

I have seen my efforts singlehandedly cause those to engage in activities

 that they normally wouldn’t do all to make an honest buck

And honestly, those that chose to make a dishonest buck

already has allowed me to course through their veins

… so my job there is done

I have seen the figurative boats of those trying to make it across the river of despair

sink before they reach the island success

While seeing those that have “made it”,

become castaways because they do not not realize what they have,

which causes them to throw it all away….

although I enjoy it, it is sad that they don’t realize that

they were already blessed

I…am poverty

an urgent unmet need for more goods,

in order to establish a sense of belonging, or self-worth.

That over time creates a mindset,

and certain beliefs about self and the world

that limits perceptions, choices, motivations, and behaviors

in ways that tend to perpetuate the condition.

And the scary thing about me is that I can affect you in many ways

Allowing you to still believe you are under impoverished conditions…

Weakening your inner fibers

And I will not stop working until you…or the cycle…is

broken…whichever comes first

 and 99% of the time it is the former that occurs

One may ask…how does one break me…

how to break this vicious cycle of poverty?

 It starts with realizing that I am not real but rather a mindset,

that keeps your mind set on what should be and not on what is

You must keep me at such a distance so that I am only a figment of your imagination

Maintaining your foundation,

while doing whatever you want once you abandon the belief that you cant

And it all stems from your inner circle…

yourself breeds like bodies…

and if your mindset is one that is impoverished…

then that’s what you will attract

Again I am a mind state

I get into your mind to alter its state and space and make your body ache

I continue to make you believe that you will never reach the pinnacle of what it

means to be “rich”

But “rich”…

is not defined by the material items that you possess

Not a car, house, jewel or commas in your bank account

can define the richness of your soul,

because it is ironic that as the rise of green occurs in your pocket,

so does the thoughts of the other side

So although your options may seem bleak

And your heart and mind continue to remain weak

Realize that even those that are rich…

are still impoverished in the mind because

money is not a moral compass

Your life’s situation isn’t your lifestyle

And although it is your current state in life,

understand that it is not a way of life…unless you allow it to become one

The generational cycle of my work will diminish

once the thoughts of material items to satiate your hunger to show the world that you have made it has subsided..

Because then…and only then…

will I fade to black…

and you…

can live life in harmonious melody

and you…

will truly and finally understand what it means to

become rich…

Family Reunion

Family reunion

Family reunion

Family reu...

Family ru..

Family ruined

With family like mine I'd much rather have reunions with my enemies

At least they know something about me and I would feel more comfortable

And it’s strange to me that the better my immediate family does, the deeper that we enter into the realm of the black sheep’s

Trying to constantly remind myself that a wolf shouldn't lose sleep

because of a family full of black...sheep’s

But it’s hard when you attempt to have a reunion with strangers

As year by year I ask myself what’s the point of reuniting,

 when we never united in the first place.

Thanksgiving feels more like a task rather than an obligation,

Eating food that no matter how well cooked will have a bitter and artificial taste

Which symbolizes the hands that have prepared it.

While faking a smile as a facade of being happy to see family,

yet hiding the fact that I don’t know any of these folk... so we eat alone

Meanwhile each year we get a new stab wound

Or could it be claw marks from crabs in a transparent barrel

Filled to the brim with the blood, sweat and tears...

of a mother who does her best impression of Atlas,

and constantly gets the small end of the straw...

 the same straw which has finally broken the camel’s back

So to my "family" I am using you as a muse to write this piece

because a conversation could not articulate how I feel about you

This is long overdue,

as the disdain has begun to course through my veins using an IV labeled "remorse"

And as I write, my pen begins to bleed these feelings

blemishing this sheet with enough emotion even Shakespeare can’t decipher its beauty

...so I guess you can call this a tragedy but even he would be perplexed at this irony that is a family

A family that claims to want to hang out...

but all they seem to do is tighten the noose around my neck,

that is intertwined with the fibers of family values.

 So it’s ironic that it will forever be loose

While trying to find a sliver of negativity in any bit of good news...

because all in all when someone is expressing to you their successes its only right to exude the same unhappiness you have upon them...right?

And as a kid, I was always told that those that are happy for you are waiting to see you fall

But when those that await your descent from the top,

are the ones that should be holding the blanket to provide that cushion

...you realize that you can’t be vulnerable around anyone

Staying awake because the moment you shift your focus...the serpent strikes

But It just hurts that the serpent striking....bares the same last name ....

as myself...

Behind the smile

Social Media always allows those to see the best out of you. We put on facades to show the world that things are great. But what about those that are hiding so much pain. People always say that I am happy go lucky and I smile a lot...but do now know the half of it...Here is my view...behind the smile

Behind every smile there is a lot of pain.

Behind every ray of sun there is a patch of rain,

awaiting to fall but awaits the cloud of society to appear to distract everyone,

thus rendering you alone with your thoughts.

Causing you to overthink the fact that you think that you are overthinking...depression.

How do you hide the fact that you feel that you arent good enough.

Not allowing yourself to become stagnant by not believing any interpretation of "you are doing great",

as the snowball that is your confidence grows so much in magnitude that you can no longer escape it no matter how hard you try...

How can allow yourself to remain confident when growing up,

it was instilled in your head that you will never inhibit mental growth explicitly

that you will reach a mental plateau and never rise above it..

So im trapped...

with just a smile to hold back the pain that I have been feeling,

because mom always told me "Baby, never let them see you sweat"

...but now my perspiration offsets this facade and is now becoming overwhelming

To the point where I can longer smile to meet anyone elses approval especially when I'm in denial of my blessings. 

Mood swings back and forth like a pendulum as I wear my heart and feelings on my sleeve like an emblem

which allows vulnerability..disharmony in tranquility,

of what should be my alone time because

I over think thinking who's the enemy...

is it external or internally?....

But I have too much pride to explain why and how these feelings arise

because every one's life should be great according to Facebook and Instagram...right?

 On the other hand, people do not take the time to hear ones cry for help

Who helps superman when they are down?

Who helps a king after he pleases his constituents and takes off his crown?

Who gives advice to the one being beckoned to give it to them?

Who does one go to after everyone is done going to them?

"How are you" has never held so much magnitude

But until then,  I sit here with a smile to hold back the pain

A figurative band aid and visual mystification

to hide the scars and remains of my past that has led to my future being jaded

As I struggle with the idea of just ripping it off and allowing these scars to expose my inner thoughts...

Who knows... they actually  might heal...

But for now I'm letting the tears from this pen spill on this sheet

to form words to verbally and visually explain these feelings without being too verbose

So next time u see someone smile

ask yourself what could be behind it.

Because something as harmless as a smile,

Could be hiding something internally harmful to a person may not be confident to show you

or is it that you aren't confident enough to ask.....:-)......:-/

Purchase Your Copy of "Welcome to My Realm: Today!!

In April of 2014, I finally fulfilled one of my dreams, I published my FIRST book of poetry.

A child of the treacherous foster care system who beat the odds to become a corporate magnate, William Dennis has dismissed the notion that Black men are unable to show their proverbial scars. Eloquently using poetry to symbolically paint images of the Black man’s socially pervasive problems, he addresses concerns that many have tried to hide.

You can purchase the ebook above and it is also available on Barnes and Noble and Apple iBooks.

Is this the End (with Dayelle Brown)

Ashes from a withering rose,

flow out the card you gave me years ago...

But with all that time passing, it hasn't lessened the sorrow.

The agony begun, to out weigh my ecstasy.

While I punish myself with reliving the fantasy.

Reliving all we were supposed to be.

Back when it was all good,

Back when you treated me the way a man should...

Go back, I wish I could.

Before the love was tainted,

Before our hearts knew what our brains meant.

When my heart could hardly contain it.

I don't understand when you were saying...

That I needed a break

That maybe saying I love you so early was a mistake

As the law of diminishing returns became increasingly noticeable,

with every utterance of "I love you too"

Good love changes you,

the smallest taste challenges you to get better for your future.

But I started to wonder if instead of getting better I became stagnant.  

As I realized that the more you love you

Is a direct correlation of how I  love you,

But its magnitude had a fragment

A missing piece to the portrait that separated an insufficient work from a Maltese

I became confused...

As I realized that it wasn't me...it was you..

It was me,

Who gave you all the pieces.

It was me who always took you back...

It was me who believed in you.

It was always me.

Always me.

So what's so different?

What happened? How?

I wonder what your doing now?

Were those answers even worth it?

Like those answers will make the scales tip;

Past the point of no return,

Somewhere  around non existent.

That's where our love went...

This time it's different.

I need your consent.

Was it misguided fate?

Was it listening to my single friends who made the same mistake?

Or was it my need to spread my wings,

because I wanted to make it official after two dates?

But somewhere the straight path had a fork in the road as I veered into the road often traveled by infidels who don't wish to commit.

And now I run the risk of being placed in the folder that's filed in your mind,

labeled "past niggas who ain't shit"

As I wonder what went wrong I want to ensure that this decision...you.. me...us...

Is one that I can truly trust, and know that our paths were meant to intertwine.

And although I want to take a break,

one thing I do know is I cannot stand to envision you in someone elses arms that are not mine

And then it hit me...

You can't have it all.

Our inevitable destruction, you can't stall.

Because you chose to step back, instead of taking the fall.

Our internal clocks began to count away our time left together.

The road got rough, we couldn't whether the weather.

And now faced with being alone, you propose a break; how clever.

You listened to your friends, conformed to their views.

You're not even sure what you want, still so confused.

You've lost sight of what's true...

It hurts worse because you're  unsure, when I'm so certain.

The shows over, final act, close the curtain.

All our "I love yous" hit the dirt when...

My emotional explosives began to implode,

Shattered my being, my psyche, my soul.

Pain begets more pain, and takes its toll.

You broke me...

I'm not proud of it...

As I realize that the reason I'm so remiss

Is because of the constant thoughts in my head saying to me "she's too good for you"

The vision of someone that has what I don't doing things that I can't and sweeping you off of your feet as it has happened to me thrice before

I was tired of accepting defeat and I let my past hold the pen to our future.

You signed our fate,

A decision I didn't get to partake.

Yet I can't bring myself to walk away.

What if this is the one mistake were not meant to make?

The fear of the unknown makes my heart quake.

Do you realize what's at stake?

The future of my love life is pending,

All rests on the hope of us not ending.

But that's been the problem from the beginning...

In us becoming one, I became a half.

The half that is codependent on your laugh,

Felt like I needed you to complete the simplest task...

That isn't love,

This can't be love,

Haven't realized; been too afraid to judge.

We both know what we should do...

Are we through?

We can make this right

Anything worth having is worth the fight

And your right,  I should've followed  my heart from day one..

Its just I'm so used to losing...I didn't realize I already won..

You needed space, so I gave it to you

But I'm not sure, the space we can work through.

How can I be true to myself, but also true to you?

A little too late?

Can you mend my heart, after it was you who caused it to break?

I hope so, for heaven's sake.