the time before

I have something for you
it exists within the confines of space behind my brows
I will unveil it in the moment of the least expectation
it is.....
the time before


the night that the truth remained silent

I watch as she plays with her hair
nervous little tugs and twists 
using her thumb and forefinger; the same two she'd use to fix her eyelash
our conversations
remixed with the first break of the of the sun and the emptiness from the night before
ambient and stunning
chasing the dust particles around us
- she asks for honesty
and I give
- she asks for reasons
and I outline
- she asks for commitment
and I
and I
I watch as she plays with her hair
nervous little tugs and twists 
using her thumb and forefinger; the same two she'd use to fix her eyelash


sunday morn

before the dew wakes
we watch the moon set
like the first time


tone deaf in sign language

Is it so bad that I miss her?
if I say it aloud will she hear me?
we were once connected - through wave lengths & frequencies
now the other end of the line has gone silent
or my side has gone mute
maybe she is listening to another
or maybe she is waiting to hear me say those words
I need you

Harvard St.

On Harvard St. there were never any sad rainy days
outside on the street in the rain, my friends and I would race boats 
made out of leaves 
that had fallen from the trees 
in the cool Autumn breeze in Boston. Dorchester to be exact
when I was little
she would watch my games out of the living room window
laughing at me because I look like a sailor; only smaller
with a big bow tie on:red
and orange band-aids against my copper skin
white shirt;favorite blue shorts
I would find the green leaves of the trees
the ones you can split
and stick on your nose
my boat is flying down the stream
dodging rocks and Pepsi cans
even with victory I know that the gutter awaits 
my rainy day shows me; in life all of the bad things go down the drain
so I smile
and she smiles
and I am happy
on Harvard St



it seems so unreal - the night
she arrives and cloaks my surroundings like a purple veil over the brightest light
she is silent in her movements baring nothing on her body but the color of skin
her eyes
her essence

like a piece of onyx mined from a distant star
I enjoy the thought of her over an evening smoke
the strands of grass tickling her ear; pulling her closer into me
I inhale her smells winding all around me; vanilla and ebony oil 
tonight she and I are one
loving the time we share under the stars
they provide a guide for my hands as I grasp her along the So' Dine'é
I am her only audience; the only one to behold her in this form
Naked; but still cloaked in darkness
I smile at her attention to detail as she disrobes her final piece 
heedful to not wake her slumbering father 
the SUN
we kiss
like two comets that crash into one another
we kiss
the way that the ocean touches the sand
we kiss
like ...the ...first ...kiss
and I fall into her arms; it is here that I wait 
until the freshness of dawn wanders onto my skin 
we still lay wrapped; the night and I
embraced in the simplicity of it all
I stare into her eyes as I drift off to sleep
keeping my secret safe with me


the path of seppuku

& no doctor can help the ailment
only the sharp blade of a tanto
that severs the Línea negra


missing notebook

I am on strike
not from love
or any other vice
I am on strike; my people
I'm missing my notebook
it reminds me of the time I left my bike out in front of the barbershop; only to come out ten minutes later to find Damien riding it under the El Tracks heading from North Hampton to Dover Station
I dodge in and out of the traffic following him; horns blaring and shining at the same time
by the time we made it to Cathedral High School, I was tired and he turned smiled and said
had enough
that day, as the wind stay swirling around the blond edges of my freshly cut high top fade, three stripes on the side right above the ear - rattail in the back; I look down at my gold & black ADIDAS Forums, and I know that I'm not running anymore, not today -
Give me my bike
-------------------------------- seems so long ago; today I am not that person, a shadow of the latter part of my light and I am tired of the darkness
the fight is too much; everywhere I turn, I am blocked off;
the only way is up and my vertical jump is one inch; used to be a cinch but now
is just
a bitch



is the day that you were born and life was given to this family
you may think that your prayers for
may fall on deaf ears, but WE hear you
WE love you on this day and any other that our hearts beat & our eyes see
Today is the day that you were born
and gave life to this family
 - to Lucy Rodrigues


mother ship

the sky is empty in entirety 
the moonlight that drifts through the clouds like a windswept ship
rocking to and fro
riding beams of yellow-orange light
spraying stars into the vastness of the night
the figurehead opens her eyes
and into darkness she cries for her children


The wisps of air surround me in an unfamiliar note
I am happy
& sad


The Attempted Assimilation of Taure

began the arduous task of the Attempted Assimilation of Taure
the ascension of heights that soar to moon and beyond
is not a feat for mere mortals
for I have asked God to fill my vessel with his spirit
so that I can be his trumpet & human portal
sorrow and despair can not be bread of which to live on
when the world is filled liars, cheats and vagabonds
I have asked Him, to keep in the light
of all that is birthed in the dark
before those things reach the cavern of my heart
burn bright as they may; and that they did
but still

began the arduous task of the Attempted Assimilation of Taure
stay back and stand clear

there is a Holy spirit hovering near
Closer to Thee is not just a hymn
it is the promise to me
from the Almighty Him


future photograph

I'm passing by my photo again
captivating, award winning shot nestled between a bridge and an ocean
birds rise from the horizontal lines as the sun lay flat on window panes
the reflection is lured away by the morning traffic
sexual architecture
I plan on taking that picture


in my own words

Most people when giving advice, (unless specially trained) can only give advice rooted from their own personal experiences. When I ask a question or seek advice from someone, I want that person's knowledge to come from a place that is planted, nurtured and cultivated by God. Most advice givers tend to steer, maneuver and guide those that come for advice with phrases like 'This is what I've done or This is what I would do.' My people, I don't want to know what it is that you would do, I want to know what would my God want me to do. How would He, if of earthly flesh and emotion, ponder my query. 

Do not answer or try to guide me opposite the path of your demise because then your are living vicariously; carelessly through me. The only one I want to have living through me and I through He, is God. No matter how good your answers to my questions may seem at the time, if the words are not blessed by God, then the words matter naught. Advice givers, get rooted in God, his words, his teachings, his reality. And for those that seek advice, understand from where that advice might be coming. If God's word is what you seek, go directly to Him. Ask of Him, big or small, all that is required to live.


so sincere

My love for you is bound like the hands of a prisoner
I am your innate
intimate; inmate
Keep me forever shackled to your heart
and be my life forever


the title of this poem was going to be 11:45pm
but I took a little time for myself
I should write about 12:52 more often and leave 11:45 alone.


- the doves

spirit drifting.. like a windswept rain
drum line of heartbeats.. prolonging the pain
where a smile once existed.. now a ripple across the lake
the doves read the Sanskrit and take flight in the morn
-  into an angel, my love is born



what to do, what to do o Lord
-  when the prayers and praise turn to
… side glances from those that lack anything to say
I do not blame them
when I lose the ability to communicate I feel crippled and feeble minded - I think that the only way to save the embarrassment is to be silent - the silence transforms my language into speaking/tongues - and from the tongue evolves a vision - a vision of never having to say goodbye to those that you love - a misconception based on insincere thoughts that somehow - someway - weave themselves into the tapestry of reality - like the tears that have carved crevasses along my profile…
…into the shape of sorrow
what would it be, what would it be
If my dreams
were reality

.::garden symphony::.

weaving in & around words like the g/clef of a trumpet blowing in the autumn breeze -
the trees have violins attached and to the flowers ...
a mandolin
together they perform a garden symphony to their love - a distant gaze from the window above - originating from a cathedral means - along a lane of brick and green -
when the sunshine ceases to shine and the rain decides to appear - the garden symphony ends - abruptly as the wind changes - and the pain closes in like the cold of winter - seasons of history lost with the garden symphony - memories have only paper remains and the sound has reason



rest easy my love
your spirit is now free
to roam in places
we will never see
- mother
has never sounded so sweet
until the day it became your name



It is dawn

The last of the night drips off of the moon and I find myself conversing with the remaining stars speckled here and there on the indigo canvas - conversations mixed with a Bin Shiraz, a green stuffed cigar and the occasional split from reality - my ears are filled with Miles and Coltrane - Hayes and Cooke - soulful classics that gloriously blend with the sounds of the early morning traffic - I am free -

- like the birds in flight rustled from their nest by the passing jet - just as free as the smoke that billows from the buildings across the river - I am free - from any constraints - any issues - any drama - any complaints - I am free

- free like the wind
- free like a balloon floating through the air
- free like a spirit released
- free like
- free like

I have always enjoyed this time of day - just me and the remaining stars toasting the next blessed dawn - the night escapes us like a thief in the night - cloaked by the rising sun - the warmth
of the new horizon breaks open a smile across my face

- and I am free


four eyes

some believe that..
love is blind

I say..
it blinds those that believe in it

"You're blind baby, you're blind from the facts on who you are
'cause you're watchin' that garbage!" - "She Watch Channel Zero" Public Enemy, 1988


he says/she says

· how can we get back to the place that existed before now ·
she says:
I used to love you
he says:
I still do
she says:
You don't want to love me
he says:
I still do
she says:
You don't know what love is
he says:
I still do
she says:
I need more
he says:
I still do
she says:
I have found another

he says:
he says:
he says:
he says:

- I Say:
I am lost without you - time stops when you are not there - my heart misses a beat where it once skipped when you were here - take me as I am - no return for damaged goods - love me unconditionally - feast on my weaknesses - I ask one thing specifically -
Will you
love me even if I don't love me?
Can you look past all of my insecurities my handcuffs and possibly, possibly...
love me
even when
I don't
love me?
she says:
I still do
he says:
I used to love you
she says:
I still do
he says:
You don't want to love me
she says:
I still do

she says:
she says:
she says:
she says:

she says:
- you never listen
he says:
- you never hear me
she says:
- I am always last
he says:
- you are the beginning and end
she says:
- show me
he says:
- while we are saying - we are not loving - we are not living - we are not - sharing - we - are - not - we -
she says:he says:she says:he says:she says:he says:she says
how can we get back to the place that existed before now
- that place called
- we -


I remix the elements of nature and share with you the results


My soul is etched with chords of my ancestors song and my heart beats to the rhythm of the river. The tranquility of my youth; replaced by the reflection of my adult form, seems so far away. I miss the sound, like one would a true love. It is my yearning, a peaceful journey through life and the rewards for the days that I breathe in the time of this existence. My spirit is filled with love and I cannot deny the numbing feeling that I am left with.

my resolution

~ continue to bless me Lord, until time exists no more ~