night residue

We have allowed lies to infiltrate our fragmented mentality and become truth, we have allowed mediocrity to become the majority;
yet we ask what happened to this society and its youth.

wtf

“how can you learn to let go when you’ve been conditioned to hold onto everything”

the sum of one

how could you ever think that zero was better than one
I mean in terms of a young man; one father to me was better than none any day
the holy father will always be; his essence isn't obligated to be counted as any number except totality
but while you were young and I was too, you obligated yourself to another family and never looked back
brother heroin, sister coke and father time
having revivals every night
while I grew and matured you wallowed and stood
stagnate, white dwarf hanging in the evening sky
your light slowly fading as the years pass you by
and here I exist;your oldest son
-magnificent; transcendent of my genetic demise
wings flapping; like an ancient warrior riding on the back of a dragon
rising from the flames of scorched souls and bad habits
I am in rewind, thinking of all the good times and memories inside
but I am stuck on zero
lonely tree standing in the woods, cleansing fire came through
young; loose cannon with no direction; just hate fueled by rejection, loneliness and loss of aspiration

my soul forced to love alone, I was scared but now I'm grown

so now, as I stand above you, I can see that death can bring life

your spirit has taken on the shape of another and the winds pick up outside

- litter blows by the sidewalk stoop, a car horn blows nearby, 

- an old man is asking for change and the morning whistle of the first train blows out of south station - 

you are free to fly amongst the birds in the sky

free to gaze at the world passing you by

all that anger and conflicted emotion has been thrown to the side

and I can finally smile
the sum of one will always be one
when there's nothing added to it

Gil Scott-Heron Sunlight| April 1, 1949 Sunset| May 27, 2011

I'm stuck

silence...
nothing but the whispers
whispers of ghosts in the dark damp night
sound
in the darkness
my hands are bound

watch me as I spin round and

round

possessed; flesh ravished by demon hounds

not a hint of light can be found

trapped in a box 

6 feet 

under/ground

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm losing my mind 

my heart has taken over my  thoughts and...

it's reminding me of what I cannot hide

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

bottomless pit; heads on a stick

above ground, pigs; but here, humans on the spit

roasting and choking

getting fat on the apple

soul slowly pouring out like candle wax

leaks on the napkin; 

what happened you ask

why am I in such a place

sold my soul some time ago 

Egyptian woman/hourglass shape

she'd showed me love and the path to worldly things

our lives interlaced like ink on the skin

there was a child born of the second summer in fact

babe had eyes the mother but born with wings on its back

death traded the child's first breath for its last

the weight of the world bore down on poor mothers soul

and in the fall her body hung cold

found by my reflection

and screams of rejection

rejection that the reflection would not remain lonely for long

I would follow her to this new purgatory home

because a life taken before it's time

will sleep eternally with a restless mind

and she could never alone bear this burden of mine!

I'm stuck

I'm stuck

I'm 

stuck

...

..

we are together again

finish my sentence

I am...

simplicity

in whispers

just the thought of being able to hear your voice again -
brings tears to my eyes
So instead I;
think out loud
in whispers

palindrome

:staying alive:
mind
body
soul
barely able to carry me through
I stay lifted
beyond necessity
my third eye stays clouded shrouded in sadness
due to the absence of her; seeping from my skin
the pain shows true
I am lost
like a babe in the woods with no sense of mind to find his way home to his palindrome:

labyrinth

Sometimes, I don't have words for the way that I feel and I have to rely on images and other types of mediums to get me through a blank spot. My words usually come, raw and uncensored or detailed and organized. Either way, they are the words that I use to relay to the world my thoughts and emotions, simply put, how I feel inside. Loss of something or someone is hard to overcome. You can choose to forget and move on or you can deal with the issues up front, I am stuck somewhere in the middle and it is a horrible place to be. The past year presented itself in a way that I would never want to go through again or wish upon my worst enemy. I lost and lost - a lot. Whether it was my love, my mother, my friends, my business or my children, I lost everything that I cared for in one calendar year of time. Nana used to always say to me when I was a young man, "If you think that you are doing bad, just look around and you'll find someone in worse shape than you are." She would follow with, "At least you have your health and you can breathe and you are above ground." Wise words for an old sage of a woman, I can still smell her when I think of her. 

but 

- my mind is convoluted with distrust, head on a swivel; looking around

what if I already exist as a corpse above ground, a ghost, floating and hovering, passing through tangible objects just to get through the day. What if, I am already dead, an apparition of muscle and bone that is lost, searching for his home. An aborigine, looks like my ancestor, whirs his bull roarer and - puff -- I am no longer - just dust floating through the spacial emptiness of time. I spin and turn, waiting to be caught in the escaping wind but instead I find myself intertwined between the feathers of Icarus. I cannot help but to weigh him down and together, spirit leaves body again and we drown. 

I cannot change the labyrinth in my mind, it is here that I exist for now

now is never forever

 - this is where I exist for now

but now is not forever

it is here that I exist for now

and to those that have left....  

?

- Have you ever been in love with someone so much that you started to hate them -
because they didn't love you back the way you wanted them to

she used to tell me this
before I began losing her

my words

my words
are that
...my words

they have no emotion or feeling until the are reflected off of the way you feel inside
if you do not like my words
change the way that you feel inside
because I will never be

silent

for any man
- ever -
and that’s
my word

the time before

I have something for you
it exists within the confines of space behind my brows
beautiful
brooding
clandestine
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
and

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
:smile:
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
:smile:
I would find the green leaves of the trees
the ones you can split
and stick on your nose
:smile:
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

inamorata

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

BLACK

her eyes

BLACK

her essence

INDIGO

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

forever

inamorata

the path of seppuku

hurt
& 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
work
or any other vice
I am on strike; my people
from
LIFE
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
LIFE
is just
a bitch

matriarch

Today
is the day that you were born and life was given to this family
sometimes;
you may think that your prayers for
*togetherness*
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
because
Today is the day that you were born
and gave life to this family
 - to Lucy Rodrigues

mother ship

tonight,
the sky is empty in entirety 
except;
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

conflicted

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

The Attempted Assimilation of Taure

Today 
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
Today 
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
Soon

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.
Today

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

12:52pm

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

question

what to do, what to do o Lord
-  when the prayers and praise turn to
condolences
or  

… 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