Wednesday, December 8, 2010

As I Experience

I sit alone in this one space. stretched everywhere.
free at last, bleeding fast--too numb to care.

or recognize. realize

I am not a beast. but a man
w/hopes, hurts & dreams to say the least.
something deep inside calling.

I'm too far gone. Could really use my best friend.
but she got called home.

Boy Astronaut

In a well-written tale,

I play the boy who became an astronaut.

Years of school, of study, of training.

Before, finally, the day arrives:


Travelling to the Moon.

It wasn’t a decision made on a whim.

I had to understand why.

Why climb higher, farther, into the unknown?

Perhaps it was the allure of silence.


I remember my first flight.

The rumble of engines, the weight of the suit,

The countdown that seemed to stretch on forever.

Five… four… three…

And then, the sky split open, and the Earth fell away beneath me.

We drifted into the deep black, like a stone skipping across a pond,

Except we never hit the surface again.

The Moon loomed ahead, pale and distant, but familiar.

It had been calling me for so long.


When we landed, everything was quiet,

But not the quiet of a peaceful afternoon,

No birds, no breeze, no hum of life.

It was a silence so profound, it pressed against my ears.

The lunar dust was soft beneath my boots,

A blanket of gray stretched endlessly,

Under the dark sky where stars hung like forgotten jewels.

The silence here was different.

It didn’t feel like home; it felt like the absence of it.


Becoming an astronaut takes more than just a dream.

The years of dedication are grueling—

Rigorous science classes, intense physical conditioning,

And countless simulations to prepare for the void of space.

Every astronaut must learn how to operate complex spacecraft,

How to conduct experiments in zero gravity,

And, most of all, how to survive in an environment that would kill you in seconds.

The Moon, though small compared to Earth, offers a rich history for study.

Scientists hope to uncover clues about the solar system’s past,

And perhaps, even our own origins.


But why go to the Moon? Some might ask.

Why subject yourself to such isolation and risk?

Because there, in the vast stillness of space,

You realize the noise of the world is nothing more than a distraction.

The silence of the Moon offers a clarity that’s impossible to find on Earth.

It strips away everything unnecessary,

Leaving only what truly matters:

The heartbeat in your chest, the breath in your lungs,

And the infinite expanse of possibility.

If more people sought such moments of silence,

Perhaps we would all learn to listen—

To each other, to ourselves, and to the universe beyond.


For it was in that same silence,

That deafening silence,

Which had made mimes of the people around me since childhood,

That I finally found my voice.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

the Promise

Live not to occupy thrones man made.
remember your forgotten, your neglected.
the daring dejected,
recipients of refused rights
great men left behind.

Defend the least of your women
and embrace the very best in chidren.
For at your very least you are in countenance with the very best of the KING.

The cries of the sufferah have afforded the attention of all the heavens.
The stars themselves stand aligned
that the night may be heard by all dwellers of the day.

From hereforth,
know there dwells a LIGHT within all
harborers of pain.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Nightime ritual

I have no desire to be weak right now.
nor do I hold interest in the set definition of strength.
I wish to hear.
your voice at 2 o'clock in the morning
in constant awe of my affinity to converse with the Moon on Her time.
lady...
I wish to take your hand as my pillow yet again,
and travel to that wonderous place with your pulse as my compass.
is it ok to watch you in the mirror?
preparing for the nurse's nightshift
my eyes made wide like cartoon caricatures
transfixed by the talcum aroma dancing with your own sweet scent.
I kneel atop the stairwell, shoulder to shoulder with my brother
Once again accepting his challenge to, "Tell her."

"You look beautiful, Mummy...And if I was older I would marry you."

I want to see your cheeks rose as they did that night.
your mouth opening only to say with a smile, "Thank you."
I will hide behind the palms of my hands as I did then
while the narrow space between fingers and face gives way to bursts of laughter.
when you are ready to go at last,
We embrace.
my eyes and ears shall escort you to the door.
my facial imprint stamped to the bedroom window.
my neck shall extend, my toes shall stand taller than before.
and just before you depart from sight
the voice you carried and cared for shall say onto thee:

"bye Mummy..."

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

At Your Least


Hear me:

you can be as strong as the slave
born in majesty, kidnapped to captivity
weakness taught onto thee by those who have surrendered strength

yet, this shall not be your end.

Remember I too have bled.
from the depths
for the dead.

At the cry of the caged bird, I would suffer yet again.
That a song from the saviour might play from the heavens.


know
the spirit sings because it is happy
for neither trouble nor trial has triumphed
over the sword of swords
that is the joy of love.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

In Passing


I will leave this place with a song

or thinking of one.

when the walls of heaven and earth come crashing down,

they will meet me in a joyous spirit.

and the keepers of heaven shall watch in awe as they did on that day.
and again.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Remembrance (the Lord's Ode)


remember me in totality
as a brave idea
an eternal antagonist of fear
armed with the sword of the King who sits on the throne.

when the absence of strength persuades you to follow
remember me in totality

as the unmistakable coming
of that which the prophet spoke
to the ennobled glory of the day
and the abounding reverence of the night


unfailingly...remember me

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Joseph


the innermost desire of the sufferah shall serve as your daily prayer
your fears shall yield to a strength unknown
your knees will straighten at the cry of your brother
his pain, to be claimed as your own.

the passing of life from this world to the next,

shall no longer be classified as death
while feelings of sadness and grief shall retire,
as love overrules our regrets

a joyful song shall be heard for the longer
each time that a life is conceived
not even the sick will long after pity,
for triumph has sewn all a seed.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Awakened


In the window of each moment
at the open of each day
I am in further retreat from the idea
that any man

who walks, breathes, and bleeds as I
could fit the qualifications pursuant to the title of my enemy.

L'Overture




I saw the color of the clouds when blood rained from the heavens to the sea
u speak of the Lord yet dismiss the least of the weak
Believe when I say it is me you ignore

cursed be the ground beneath your feet
for whatsoever is sewn for this soil, you see
so shall it be reaped by those dwelling on the opposite end
do u know what it is to look deep within?

close your eyes and feel the gaze of the sun
the blood in your veins, do you hear?
the voices,
listen as they shout

"I cry, pray & sing...yet nobody knows."

if only you would listen,
perhaps. you would hear and know
that ours began
not with birth
but at the advent of the dust
taken from the earth, animated by the words

LET THERE BE

but no
you fear the dead
the conquered keep your attention
while your freedom has long been bought...
with the blood of the one to whom the earth cries out

WILL YOU NOT SEE

if you knew your brother. you would know his pain.
water the soil, yet u neglect your sister

Mister,

may I remind you that both nurture the fruit,
bearing seed that is VICTOR

in triumph our story began,
to triumph so shall it return
neglect not those who walk and weep,
across, under, against & around
do not allow the eye to dry
for a cocoon is more than a place to die

live not by bread, but of the word
Lord bring I peace, but first a sword.


LIBERTE'

a nursery rhyme for the black child


frogs & snails and puppydog's tails
that's not what little black boys are made of
they are the seed born from black fruit that made love
I could never dis.re:spect
where black boys came from

sugar & spice and everything thats nice
is that what little black girls are made of?
was it the sky or the sea, that you came from?
and does the I contain WE in thy Kingdom...

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Little Brother


u can go anywhere, any place.

so long as your heart remains full of love.
it shall be your passport to trod
not like a Lion, but as one.
the earth will gather to support your stance.
the sea will quench you with an offering of self.
the stars will hail and pray,
that God may grant their greatest wish
to be like their brother, that shining prince.
Who learned not only to walk on land,
but in the race of uncertainty, stand firm as a Man.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Til Somebody Knows...(Cry, Pray & Sing)


I Cry. Pray.
And Sing. But nobody knows.

sometimes I cry.
sometimes I pray.
sometimes I sing.

But don't nobody know.

For years I did fear, losing all that I had,
Gave away all I was, to gain all that I AM.

My Brightest did tell me,

“Though, this life is queer,
Yours is to live each day--in all things but fear.”
For just as life stems from the Father above
He sends death to rescue, His laborers of love.

When still, I can feel, the whip teething my back
Each stroke as it lessens, the flesh from intact
Songs of sorrow sung by dwellers of doubt
While broken winged vultures go lurking about

And as I take flight
on winds that life brings
I slowly do die...CRY, PRAY and SING

Gather me a score of black boys and girls
And find before thee, first seeds of this world.
let not your days, be darkened with hate
For nightfall to end, the Sun must indeed wake

Though family may fail you, and good friends betray
Faith will prepare you, a portion of strength
Beauty will fade, where mortality shows
Darkness will strike, yet one thing I know

If mine is to die, then first I will fly
to the peak where the spirits of ancestors lie
I'll unbind the ties that enslave the soul

then CRY, PRAY and SING.

til somebody knows...

The Pursuit

Papa played the trumphet, mama sang a song
daughters on the dancefloor, brothers on the wall
brown was in the bottle, green was in the eye
voices in the background, fire in the sky

Aunty in the kitchen, uncle on the phone
somewhere in the basement, kids was gettin grown
started with a slow kiss, gentle to the touch
followed by the light-switch, fingers start to clutch

"Maybe we should slow-down", babygirl would whisper
"OOOH, I'M TELLIN MOMMY!"....that was little sister
then would come the one song, people gather round
in a sea of rhythm, everybody drowned

Summernights was slumber, underneath the stars
youngins on the corner, playin, "thats my car"
neighborhoood depression, hopeless it would seem
still somehow we made it, just'us and a dream

Oftentimes I wonder, just what became of them
the ones I went to school with, the few I called ‘my friends'
They say the Lord will bless the child, who's got his own one day
I too believe, but til then, tis for the prisoner I pray.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Jazz of JUNE


the bush of burning concern is no longer there
men are misled to bloodshed as daughters die in despair
reservation restricts the resolve of the shooter
"what are we fighting for"

death opens at the slave's resignation from struggle
the tyrant is made timid when mortality huddles
in private, the heart convenes with both the mind and the soul
redemption awaits the dead

from the Creator there is history, a memory of HIS mercy
in kind man is conceived, undeserving yet worthy
as captain & compass, the worker continues
all nations preserved by a song

war is achieved where love is neglected
faith is condemned by accounts documented
though some will die before they are born
the way of this world shall pass

A message for you


I wish to tell u something
what about is unknown, but if only I begin
it shall be realized before the end.
please know that what I say, though of the mind, is from the heart.
I ask only your patience as the direction is subject to change
soon.
this world has made u proud and yet lazy altogether.
u study what u like and learn what u love.
without as much as a care for the image in between
so long as there is substance at the core
it is the story u cherish.
the people, whom u love.
u are a leader born--natural.
whose PRIDE knows no abandonment
I beg you
do not die.
and if you must, let that be all u do for death.
harness all energy intended for your destruction

the masses shall gather for the production of your demise
yet they too shall learn it is THE BEGINNING from which you hail
as your constitution recognizes no end
at the hour of overwhelming gloom
be still
for time erodes only that which is born of time
and as sure as the sun follows the moon
u shall be
~after death~ as u were before the womb

One Street


We the people, dark but equal

light-skinned, but never seen through
gather amongst each other as lovers, sisters & brothers
dismissing the intuition to view ourselves with suspicion,
we live by those who dream, and die for those who listen
in keeping with common sense, we reap by consequence
ever-sewing the seed, our hearts longing to bleed
Stains
that run so deep, you'd wonder what they're running from
people who chose to sleep despite the fact the night was done
still we sing
for we the kin of the caged bird, take flight
not on winds, but on that of brave words
RE:connect
in the spirit of those who climbed into the night
our faith mirrors the moth,
in knowing we've reached THE LIGHT.

Sacred Words


Yes I can

and I will
but that is all I shall do for it

we are not the same
blood races that I may stand

full of fight
for the people
to the death
for the people

u would use
manipulate and maul
as you have
over and again

but alas, it is a sin
to stand silent
at life's destruction
my ruins shall not be your attribution

yes I can
so I will
move on
and away from you.

goodnight now.
for the morrow for me shall not include
that which has been
you.

as the mold must be broken
so it shall be.
the scattered seeds shall be made one.

they will look around them
and see the sky.

they will close their eyes
and see the sun.

full of light
for the people
pure of blight
for the people

in all ways
for all days
they shall be the brightest hope

for the people.

Mother Sister


For my mother, my sister,

my daughter yet to be
born is the life---eternal you are to me
all that was shed, all that was bled
spread out to the baptism of nations and races
queen
u are the song of my soul
the rhythm to which my heart beats
vessel through which I travel
shell of my seed, my nelly indeed
umi
love knocks at your door
won't u come out and play...or perhaps stay
by the window
allow the sun a reason to rise
share with me
a dance before dawn