Me...In so many words

I am ...
A man
With a heavy heart, bathed in obscurity
Somewhere in an empty room ...
With eyes not quite of autumn's gold, and yet
Neither all of winters grey;

I wonder ...
If love is a fable made for children
A enchantment of sweet dreams in their innocence
A honey-coating to help their throats
Choke down the bitter drought ...

I hear ...
A voice that whispers warnings, half-spoken,
Bodiless as hope, until I swear I cannot draw
Another breath unless this ghastly figure be unmasked,
The lies mangled beneath my righteous tread;

I see ...
A man, proud, God fearing, uncompromising,
As sheer as air - less, even, than the tears
That fall in desolation about his weary feet,
Salt poison pooled upon the withered ground ...

I want ...
A measure of quietude, a certain silence,
The echo of loneliness which heals me of dreaming,
The nothing that stills the wanting,
The numb, the cold that chuckles at pain;
I am
A man,
hidden ...

I pretend ...
That I can live forever,
That Time
Has no power but that which I afford Him
And so, I can wait, I can be happy tomorrow,
Sleep is for the dead; but its ghosts haunt my waking ...

I feel ...
Too much, yet too deeply to be without direction,
Too real for imagining, and yet the familiar eyes
Hold nothing of recognition, only my reflection
A meeting of shadows in sunlit glass;

I touch ...
The downy wings of hope, in wonder,
In reverence, in need, in hunger;
Alas, it burns my fingers as a flame,
A sacrilege, self-defined ...

I worry ...
That I am alone; that in my longing
I have forsaken all, but what a reward,
What smile divine should light the path to freedom
And how can I but heed the siren's call?

I'm tired ...
For doing too much, without worrying about myself, for fear of bursting,
And then, when by the pouring of my soul
I lie, a vessel emptied, I think deeply again
Of when people would worry about me
For what was had, and lost;
I am
A man,
empty ...

I understand
That life is what you make it,
That sometimes, the facade of many colors
That marks your triumphs brightly, blends only
To the loneliest of grey ...

I say
That we are made by life, shaped,
Broken, perhaps unmade and voided
But always, the core of us remains, waiting
With only faith, with trust, to be reborn;

I dream
Of bluest waters, reaching
With unnatural hands toward the faded sky,
Of dolphins that wander in seas without limits,
Carrying me water-breathing past corals and clouds ...

I try ...
To lead by example, knowing
That merely the telling holds no power;
A gift of giving has the power of a day, while
A gift of knowledge has the lifespan of forever;

I hope ...
That my darkness embraces you gently,
That pain is halved by sharing, that feeling
Wields nothing past the words it summons,
Except that it touch you with only healing ...
I am...what I can only be...ME

In her eyes

I look into her eyes...but I see nothing there but pools of withdrawal, remorse, and sorrow
In her eyes, she's been hurt by people who she thought she could trust, and she thought it was a must to confide in, and in her heart they would reside in...but was here today, gone tomorrow

In her eyes, she thought those same people would remain in her life.
However, these eyes are the same ones that peeved her, were the same ones that listened and received her, but didn't even trust and believe her
Telling her that they would be here to retrieve her.... but all they did was deceive her. 

Over time, these eyes of hers tended to see fantasy rather than reality, full of empty promises.
They tend to feel what they want to feel. 
Tend to know what they want to know, but not what SHE wanted to know....and created an eerie pall of sorrow

Why can't these eyes see what is truly there?
Through this crystal stair, they can see those flaws in the surface.
Why can't these eyes finally believe that the people who 
Hurt her are the people who are waiting, and hoping and praying to see her fall?
And through it all, will not be there to pick her up.
Why are her eyes full of salty tears as she is given a constant reminder of the pain?

However, these eyes are learning something new.
These eyes are noticing the only few people in her life worth having, and embracing them
The few people in her life that won't make her eyes shed tears of sadness
But a tear of happiness

For these are the people which she can clearly see that will be there for her.
In her eyes, she knows that these people that she trusts will not hurt her and look out for her best interests...being the wind beneath her wings, as she slowly ascends toward the sun in cloudy skies.
And In her eyes, she knows who will last........ forever.

Americas Nightmare

Americas Nightmare

You See…I am a member of an elite group…

Even though it constitutes within the 99% percent of those with the 1% of the wealth it

Contains 100% of the ambition and potential that exists within our society that

Still silently sees us as 60% of a human being but constitutes 75% of the money spent per day

While our men populate 60% of those in prison, but only 15% actually deserve to be there while being profiled 85% percent of time…but hey…you do the math

This group

Which Continues to live the dream that King laid for us while,

Remaining awake through a great revolution and

Keeping in mind the notion of the ballot AND the bullet while also

Surviving the nightmare that seems to never escape us day by day

Dreams of success and happiness continue to formulate within our minds as we

Take baby steps in hopes of reaching the promise land

Constantly and consistently fighting to not be a statistic while

Remaining simplistic and artistically linguistic

Being somewhat materialistic but never seeking unrealistic needs while being opportunistic and

Taking heed to the system that is not designed for us

And taking the road less traveled which ironically is a road aligned for us

We are known as the Invisible Women and Men

The Ralph Ellison’s of the world

Hidden from the masses because the media and the government only focuses on things that demean our race by making those the headlines while the things that matter most, which would allow us to maintain our pride and boast….are swept under the rug

It’s a disgrace that in the light of positivity, negativity seems to overshadow it

However the reasons that we are constantly overlooked is because we have the power to singlehandedly take this world by storm, and the government cannot STAND it

So they have PLANNED it by planting it, drugs, liquor and guns, as a way to attack EACH OTHER

As way to keep EACH OTHER from uplifting EACH OTHER

However recently we have seen past the mystification

Day by Day teaching one so that each one can be the future leaders that we have become

While the government fights to increases those numbers of us imprisoned because

What is currently happening with our race is not what they envisioned

So they arrest us for petty crimes to break down our pride

Like for hopping a bus or a broken tail light

While those that possess the wealth are ones who are the real criminals…..but I digress…

This group…the Invisible Women and Men

Are Indivisible, and becoming the new Nat Turners and Booker T Washingtons…the new talented tenth

Becoming more involved by social change while possessing knowledge of how the world was and is

Successful in every regard with our fist silently in the air….Excellence while showing society that old habits die young

Obtaining power by the use of our knowledge and character…Not in our wealth

Instead of being granted our 40 acres…we are earning it

We are slowly showing the world that we refuse to lie down and be attacked

Because you see this group that I belong to….that we belong to are our dreams….but Americas Nightmare…..Young….Gifted…..and Black

Eye of Seduction

We lock eyes….and she seduces me

As I look into her eyes
all that seems important is trivial now.

there is no deadline to meet, no meeting to run to, no project to think of.

Because Her eyes are where the skies meet the sea
The sudden subtle change from the lighter
Shade that, though bent, can go on forever
To the partition of inflected darkness
Hiding secrets the world wouldn’t care about anyway
But I do…
Then there are the specks of gold
The sun reaching down to graze the surface with unbelievable tenderness
Seeming to drive deep, still seeming to float
On the Surface, yet welling up from within
Some silhouette of her amazing light
And I’m blinded…

Because she seduced me….with just her eyes

I Want to Have an Affair

So...I want to have an affair
Yea, we preach against infidelity,
But its my curiosities and your insecurities that make it more intriguing. 
I guess that 20 percent, although small, has had a high magnitude and as
You leave for work and as usual we argue, my phone starts furiously ringing. 
I guess the feelings have overcome you as well. 

Weeks and weeks of just "talking"
Stating the obvious with no action.
Talking a good game, but with no training to adequately back it up...until a knock on my door

So...you come over..
In just a trench coat and some red heels
Just like page 37 in that Zane novel, my fantasies become more vivid.

So..we go to the room and
As you remove your trench coat I realize your wardrobe, mmm,mmm,mmm vickis secret, my favorite brand. 
And you take my hand and begin to kiss my neck
The tensions begin to rise because we both know what to expect...and so does my manhood.

So, as we remove each article of clothing, our hands message each others bodys, no need for baby oil because our bodies are covered in each others lust. 
I'm feeling young again, because since all she is doing is working, I need to erase this ring rust...its a must

And I begin to think about how, this won't complicate things, because after all of this, it is still considered a fling, so my goal is to make her moan and have her soul scream..in a harmonious melody. 

Her body begins to yearn for me as foreplay is not longer enough
We begin the next phase, I lay her on the bed and although silent I gaze into her eyes, and realize that..she wants it rough.

So, yea...I'm having an affair, and it feels goooood. I guess if she wouldve pleased me as she should this scenario would be a "would of" instead of a "might of or could of" but...let's return to our regularly scheduled program

You begin to dig your nails in my back as I go deeper, switching rhythms like a metronome that's unsure of the tempo and as we begin to climax...the sound of keys in the door begin to become more audible.

O shit! She's home...how the hell am I going to find an excuse that is plausible in such a way that I remain credible...images of me saying, "Yea I never seen her a day in my life" or "these earrings are yours " begin to formulate as she is hastily trying to find an exit. 

Realizing that there is no way out, my soldier still stout as we begin thinking about, how the hell you are going to get out. And as I find a turtle neck to make the scratches and hickeys obscure, I begin to hear her mouth. "Baby, you still here?"
Now my nervousness becomes fear as her footsteps begin to make its way to the room, and I realize that soon 1+1 =3 will not seem like the right math.

"I'm glad you found your way over, now we can start"...as she kisses her...my mouth agape, I realize that maybe she had the last laugh....or did she...you decide.

Fatherhood...

Fathers- so many here, but so many missing
As I question the existence of this life and where it is taking me,
I think about my father, and how he wasn't here faithfully.
I won't use hate...as a matter of fact...yea, I hate that nigga
But I figure that I'm bigger than that so
I'll oppose the negative synergies as my feelings saturate like paint thinner.
You left me when I was 3, and never seen my potential
I screamed that I hated you!
At the top of my lungs, but
Mom said that hate is a strong word so
I guess I just really don't like you
And when she's not around the thing that I hate most about you is that I'm scared
That imma end up just like YOU.

Why?
Why do I not want to be you?
You are a pompous snake who,
Never took the time to actually get to know your son and unravel
All the gifts that he possesses
Who left a precious seed to fend for himself
Like a hungry vagabond who continues to blindly travel.

And by the time I will meet you, you will say
Bye whenever I finally get to say hi
And unconsciously my inside cries,
But yet my face remains dry
Because I will not let you see my emotion
Because you have filled me with cold veins as
Your life is now in vain but
No matter how successful I become it will never erase the pain
Of you being absent.

A lot of fathers are farther than families
A lot are farther than fathers are meant to be
But,in all realness some are actually fathers, while some are just "daddys"
But...I thank you, because thanks to your "efforts"
I know what I do not want to be
I WILL be there for my kids
Unlike you who wasn't there for me
And the sad reality is, you KNOW where I reside
...I guess you looking me in the face and staring at my eyes would affect your pride
Because on the inside you actually realize that the man I am today,
Has NOTHING to do with what you did, and more so of what you didn't do for me
And while my feelings and my knowledge for you starts to diminish
I realize that you do not possess qualities of a true man because
You started something....that you couldn't finish.

Trials and Tribulations

He screamed at her…
While the look in her eyes was something of complete fear and
She backed away from his path slowly while his rage ensued
All the while he was getting mad and,
Flipping over the couch, because she was late preparing his food.
All that passes in her mind was,
Her girlfriends constantly telling her to watch his temper but
She was so deep in love; she thought she would get past all of that until…

He hit her…
With a closed fist and enough force that,
It caused her to be taken aback and
Remind her of the times of the fights between her mom and dad
How she would hide in the back room crying and screaming
Because mom also thought that he was the best friend she ever had…
Now she lies with a crimson fist print in her face and a single tear in her eye
Never in her life she thought that he would do this to her
She recalls the time when they met and
Him claiming that he is not like other guys
And now, pools of remorse stream down her eyes
As she wonders where she went wrong…
All of sudden, he charges her, wringing his hands around her neck and ripping her clothes off her body until…

He rapes her…
And while she is kicking and screaming and no one hears her
He continues to unleash his rage and
So it seems as if the relationship has unraveled and has come of age
The last petal has finally fell from the rose that,
really didn’t have any roots to begin with
So she screams and screams and she punches and kicks until…

She gets away…
Out the door and down the steps, screaming, hoping that someone hears her cry,
However since the neighbors are used to the screaming of this “couple”
This time they turn a blind eye.
So she runs, not only for her safety, but also out of her mind.
And during every step, and every stride that she makes,
It only angers him, thinking to himself that she is making a big mistake.
And as she cuts the corner, thinking that she is finally free from his tyrannical grasp…

He catches her…
And she starts screaming and trying to escape
However he tells her to stop…
And stares at her….
And to her surprise, the same look of anger is not in his eyes,
But this time, it is a look of docility,
And this look has the ability
To give her the stability and support that she needed.
Because after all of her beckons for help
Someone made sure that it was heeded.
So he took her to safety, to refuge so that,
Her life can no longer in shambles due to the mental recluse and
She can move on to better beginnings….

And as I conclude, let me say that
A relationship, is a close special bond where,
Man and woman intertwine
Where the synergies of their world are truly divine.
So, when it is being tested, think about
How it has changed from its original ideology
And know when to leave when it evolves into tyranny

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

So I think about her...and think about her 

Come to find out that,

She is a beautiful soul that

Isn't appreciated by the person she confides in at home

So I decide to write to her to provide an prologue to the novel of our relationship

But...Sometimes I feel as if,
I cannot thoroughly describe my thoughts as I scribe on this pallet
As if her looks and personality doesn't already speak volumes. 

Her looks and her attitude create perfect harmony, and its those aesthetic synergies that have me yearning for her attention.

And sometimes I feel as if she should've been mine.
As if in another life its me she is holding passionately, instead of him.

The image is so vivid I feel as if it had already occurred.
One by one, three matches are lit in the night
The first to see her face
The second to see her eyes
The last to see her lips
I caress her body from head to toe tip
So when its dark all around, I can remember it all
While holding her in my arms.
I want to be the subject to her predicate, the yin to her yang, the reason why she sings.

And sometimes I wonder why...
Why is she subject to the insecurities
And all the abnormalities that the relationship entails. 
And I wish that I can tell her that I can be her knight in shining armor while 
releasing her from those troublesome burdens that exists from someone who thinks that "she's too good for me"

And sometimes I wish that I can look into those pools of remorse and transform them into oceans of realization as she sketches a portrait within my heart. 
But I realize from the start that I'm wanting something that I cannot have, but I feel that I can have anything I want if I give up the belief that I can't. 

Sometimes, 
I feel as if she feels the same way.
As if day to day she wonders how it wouldve been if she said no to him and yes to me...

Another Round

So months turn to years, and the attraction I have for you has grown stronger, to the point where it starts to become lust no longer,

So now I want to love you, not only as a partner but as a couple in too deep

And as the feeling of lust evaporates the enchantment if love begins to seep

I want to love you in a special way like glass, adamantine strong but crystal clear.

As I hold you near I whisper in your ear things that would alleviate our worst fears.
I want to make love to your every intricacy by first squeezing and sucking your breasts to quench my thirst.
Then gently at first blowing love through your lips and making love to your lungs,

As I grab your hips and start to use my tongue

My heart squeezes yours and mines together until your mind blows,
And you can't think.

I want to bite your neck, sending a sexual sensation through your nervous impulses and into your heart,
Pumping love in and out through your veins until it reaches your feet,
And your toes begin to curl.

I want to stroke you gently and softly to caress not only your being,
But to feel the warmth of your flesh.
Your body next to mine, holding and embracing with the connection of a lock and key of life and love so you can't let go or go to the next one.

Let me love you hard so I can drill through your hurts and your pains,

Paving and laying bricks to guard your heart from your trials and tribulations.

Building a dam so that when your flesh feels weak your spirit won't break from the wear and tear of the enigma that is called life

Let me love you over and over again as though it were a climactic story that never ends.

If you were my book the letters of your words would be carved in my heart as though it were a novel felt, but never read.

This is the way to love, you have to love easy but feel hard.

You have to pay the price of sacrifice in order to grow a love, which is deeply fulfilling.

Showing respect to every fiber of her being

That is the best way to love and to make love by not just having sex, but to connect.

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

Social Shackles with Dashun Cathcart (@justicethepoet)

THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE televised....
However the evolution of our society will continue to be chastised for remaining stagnant...
While minute fragments of the “Dream”, the vision and the Talented Tenth still exist, our minds continue to remain absent.

Absent from the truth of the lies
Of dreams not quite deferred but dreams revised
Because in today's world there is no Black pride.
Only selfish egos that will do anything to get televised.
So they tell lies
And distort our culture's vision. Bringing nightmare to the dreams that Dr. King had once envisioned
And what's missing is the knowledge
Of what makes our people strong
So they just say YOLO, work for solo
And lead the children wrong.

To the point where their minds are gone
Misled by the mystique while being spoonfed the utter critiques of the media.
Living in illusion and shrouded in confusion
because of their blind assumptions that everything that they see on TV is reality
While they fail to see past the mist into the fallacies of those trying to deteriorate their mind while the blind continues to lead the blind

Not blind in the sense of sight, but blind morally from what's right
Blind to the knowledge...that life is deeper than Concords

But they turn blind eyes to anything
That isn't wrapped in a rap verse
And remain blind to the realization
That rap makes these facts worse
So these blind cannot see the revolution

But CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?!
I'm screaming at the top of my lungs
Please...
Let's find a resolution

1st round

She rests beside me and
The feelings of "we" reprise me as her
Head is fixed on my pillow
She wistfully lies there with a seductive look in her eyes that creates a message yearning for me
Her want is my own and although she knows of my intent, my manhood begins its ascent while I long for her body
The tensions augment

So..My lips feel for hers, soft, mellow and meek as it soothes the fibers of my soul.
Through the depths of the night
Caressing her face I find delight
As our kisses interwine, and dance in accord to our hearts rhythm as our
Tongues muscle in and reap their reward My hands are in awe as they move in to tease, in order to please.. and as if it was in an instant, time begins to freeze because it is all about us...
I promptly withdraw and she reaches in quickly while she passionately kisses me
slowly I remove her clothes expeditiously and she mirrors the efforts diligently as her flesh I expose
my tongue starts to slow dance, leaving her entranced as I navigate across her beautiful skin as the inception of lust flows out from within
Traveling further down her body in a stream of lust, Feeling her pulse while
My mouth does its part as I watch her moan and convulse and I taste and begin the buffet of the furtile land of her oasis
She whispers to me and beckons me inside of her so I prepare by
discarding my previous task as our gazes collide
She gives me permission to enter, so I abide.
I open the door and although we’re just beginning, I’m yearning for more as I am
Sweetly surrounded by her unfolding delight of rhythmic motion
Cautiously thrusting and our sensations ignite her audible moans that drowns out the music.

She turns over and arches her back as I give that ass a rough but subtle smack just enough to make her whimper
While pull her hair and going faster as she grinds her teeth while calling out my name in harmonic symphony
I know not to quit although my leg is cramping up
But she clings to me tightly and my
Defenses submit, her thighs lock, as she begins heavily breathing and digging her nails in my back, as every moment is encased in this moment of time and space
The room begins to fog up rotate and we enter into a new world..My passions explode and the sensation surrenders
As I erupt, and she does the same as she continues to scratch me up, and in that position we remain
The end to this story is euphoric and as the caviat of pulsation ceases I
lose my strength as I rest on her chest as we cherish that sexual whirlwind
.... as we wait for round 2 to commence.

Doing Just Fine

Doing just fine

It's crazy how time really does heal the deepest of wounds..
What once was the biggest factor of our emotional attachment is now used to soothe and cope from the fact that I ended up losing you.

There was a time when we were inseparable, you was the ying to my yang, the treble to my bass, the copy to my paste, the cup to my tea, the left side to my siamese ....and now we barely even speak

What once was a bright future became suddenly bleak all because two minutes of anger that led to two years of silence.
Thoughts of what if have intersected the inner fibers of my cerebellum maybe a thousand times but this time....I've realized I'm doing just fine.

You were once mine, allowing me to demystify the troubles of life, thoughts began to muster at an early age of you being my wife because I knew or at least thought i knew that you were the one. You was the checks to my parabolic balances, urging me to follow any challenge that crossed my path...little did I know that you yourself would be a challenge

I had thought that without you my life would be incomplete like a 10,000 part puzzle missing the 9,999th piece...it messed me up so mentally.... that without you there would be tears everytime the mere utterance of your name or the "how is she" questions from outsiders began to speak...but now I have come to peace with the fact that you never really loved me....in fact you never really knew what love was...

The way we ended our journey had much to be desired...due to the fact that closure was never established and
Now I'm left wondering if I ever crossed your mind, if as you go through your everyday life you realize that maybe this was a mistake or that I am missed, take from the fact that the person you are with was the same person that you left to start our journey....and the same person used to finish it...

Today, those thoughts are now a figment of my imagination, what once was a vivid dream has lost its pigment and symbolization as I have understood that you....never had my best intention in mind.

Real eyes have realized those real lies that you have told me...so with all the tears, the good times, the bad, the kisses, hugs and even the sex, has all been forgotten as the lasting image of you is leaving me....for an ex... and doing it in such a fashion that it seemed that I was so easy to forget like hitting the top 'x' on a browser window on a lagging computer screen.

So it's crazy how time can heal the deepest of wounds....what was once deep scars on my heart have proved to heal...and although I have forgotten about you I must thank you for allowing me to grow and realize that what we had wasn't real....in fact even years later as you cross my mind I smile and realize that without you....I'm doing just fine.

Social Genocide

A wise man once said that if you cannot find tranquility within yourself, that it is useless to seek it elsewhere...

But where else would people decide to seek tranquility?

We live in the society where whatever is in the streets can be spread in the matter of a retweet

Where you make your everyday decisions based on your peers, and followers...

But if one has a number of followers, but seeks the opinion of what to wear or how to look from them....then who is following who?

We live in a society where all physical interaction has now been exponentially divided and has been replaced by 140 characters
Where "if it ain't on Facebook it ain't official" actually matters to those seeking self efficacy.

So yes...the revolution will not be televised....it will be retweeted, followed, commented. Liked, checked into, twitpiced then deleted...as we let it bypass us because our head is deep into our phones..

While some possess control some are mindless drones that catch heat for a subtweet and making attempts to clown others behind their device...when in all reality if the interaction was physical they wouldn't be about that life.

While most are just providing updates of their life some are actually seeking a husband or a wife and those that are together use their alone time to share with the world that they are.....alone...

In this country of "free" speech, we use social networks as an escape and release and
as a way to please others...
So contrary to what the wise man said, its not that we can't seek tranquility within ourselves,
We just choose not to...sadly we seek and yearn for it...from each other.


So I ask...are social networks equal their net worth?
Are they a gift or a curse?
Have they assisted to unify our people..... or did it make matters worse?