i hate you so much right now.

fo-ny pha-kin' i-mage steal-ing wanna-be but not appealing.

leave this to professionals

or at least those somewhat versed on the subject.

didn't figure we'd get here so quickly,

or even ever as a matter of fact

yet i stand here on the cusp

of homicidal achievement

because that is how much you matter right now,

that I would find thrill in the wake of your termination.

how is it

that you've managed to lace yourself

within my exploratory consciousness?

that place where hands lay and necks crack

-not just in theory-

beyond the humanistic concern that I feel for all people

whether I like them or not.

with you, my vices have never been secret, or hidden

i trusted that you would wrap them carefully

and place them in well guarded quarters.

and I hate more than anything

that the only way I would find out

how false you really were

was to now see my enemies

flaunting pieces of them.

you know me,

so surely you have already deduced

that this will go far beyond words on a page

not only will these letters hemorrhage

not only will this ink bleed.

how dare you, contriving parasite?

initially i thought i was bested

but there was never any antagonism,

i thought

i guess the old adage rings true

those who fear you present

will resent you absent

and as much as i know

and all the degrees i hold

i couldn't deduce your callow little existence.

in case you had not realized,

i have no desire to be the bigger person.

REAL TALK. REAL TALK. REAL TALK. REAL TALK. REAL TALK.
I don't have any use for fluffiness.  I abhor blind complacency and people who don't want to discuss what needs to be discussed for fear they will hurt someone's feelings. I argue that if you're thinking it you might as well say it. Read my voice.

dEstiny

Can't imagine what else this could be
Tried being without you,
On the fence of love I was,
convincing myself, doubting you
The more I strayed, I became scared
Now leaping over to co-exist.
You always made me feel comfortable
When the world let me down.
I could cry to you
and no matter how trivial
You would listen and support me
And that is who I wish to be for you
As long as God allows
Forever and now.
You understand me completely
and still love me.
Sharing my compassion for others,
doing what is right, beyond criticism,
or opinion.
Just you,
what a strange notion it always seemed
that in this ominous world
Love settled right on top of us
So many moons ago.
Ten years as partners
Twelve as lovers
and all of them as friends.
Never doubting your motives.
Pure destiny.

click the image to enlarge

Too Far Gone

Too Far Gone

Starting to regret the day

Balance changing, selfish outweighs

Comes with prices I will pay

Don't want to go tit for tat

Really need the old to come back

But we so far gone away from that.

And he can't stand my girls

He says WE live in this world

Refuse to jig, to twirl

And his boys are some the same

Dropping old girlfriends' names

Caught, sought, fucked and came.

Too much side, not enough main.

Too far gone.

Too far gone.

CALCULATING

Calculate - adj. - shrewd, crafty: coldly scheming or conniving

Calculating has long since been found in cahoots with other adjectives such as malicious, menacing, scheming, cold; all describing unwanted and socially reprehensible characteristics, those likened to thieves, criminals, tyrants and heartless individuals.

Its perception concerns me, however, because I do consider myself to be calculating. I plan out nearly every move that I make, and before I act, have run through every possible benefit and consequence; every scenario determined, because I work specifically for avoidance. My use of this tool has little to do with scheming to take from others what does not belong to me; be it money, products, life, hope or love. In particular, I employ this tool to create for myself a stress-free, highly productive, positive-functioning environment and lifestyle where I am comfortable nearly all the time.

This has become my nuance as well as my protectant, because it has created an extremely particular individual - those who I allow into my circle; the career path I've chosen; how I respond to others; and how I expect them to respond to me. None of which having anything to do with anything underhanded.

So I'm annoyed, because if you look at the meaning of "calculate" you hear a completely different tone:

v. - to determine by reasoning, common sense, or practical experience; estimate; evaluate; gauge.

Huh? Why such varying representations for a verb versus an adjective; planning versus scheming; practical versus shrewd; ingenuity versus crafty. Why "to calculate" means performing some quality, logical or smart functions and calculating stands for those characteristics of the world's underbelly genuinely perplexes me.

Why, because I want my life to follow a certain order, and will do what I must to make this happen must I feel that my methods are undesirable, that I have in some way erred grossly because I make things happen - my way. You could call it selfish, and I won't object. I'm no martyr; I can not leave my life to be determined by the will of others. Those things were part of a younger, more naive, clouded version of myself. I'm no fool, and won't be anyone's whore for their particular agenda.

"Calculating", you got a bum rap.

The Keeper of the Smile is an interesting fellow, or madam
The upturn of the corners of the mouth tells so many tales
And the eyes, oh the eyes,
when joined with a smile so many stories unveiled.

EVILLE IT

This one's very personal. What's weird is that this truly could be written for most black females at Edwardsville High School, classes of 1992 through 1997, and most likely beyond. But we have prevailed, and that's all I really give a damn about.

Stephen King's not the only one

who found that strange phenomenon.

That evil seed that should not breed...

It's trick is to find those placed within

A place they never should have been

Neglected souls, those with their own patrols

but not just any, only the new blossoms

They surely must not be aware

They must not know the monster's toll

To allow us to exist, It required our whole

Not piece, not part, but all we lacked

Every insecurity It needed to hold us back...

But fuck that, dear friend, how far we've come!

So many failed attempts to escape It's arm

So much pursued and accomplished despite

It's grasp on our lives, on our hearts, on our might.

Why did we ever walk in the shadows of others?

Confidence shattered, hope shaken

Who were those scared little girls?

I remember me, I remember you

On opposite sides of fences,

not in disagreement

but strongly desiring what the other had

this wasn't bad, we just didn't know the associated pain

of living in another's world, only our own,

thinking, something's got to be better than this

Successfully unloving ourselves

but,

pouring our souls into another's happiness

What a trick It played on us,

Lifelong impressions haunting us at our core,

Yearnings that will never be fulfilled

And why do we care still?

I'm not sure, but we do

We DO wish for redemption, for acknowledgement...

Vindication...

LIBERATION...

from what though?

Our own perceptions, the lies It told us?

They unfold now,

But we must look to the NOW to see it,

'cause back then? It was everything, the only thing

A couple of young black girls knew

Now, the transformation

From not being amused to being a muse,

goddess, puppeteer of It, now and forever...

Act accordingly.

I never seek to hope's executioner, love's liquidator, peace's eliminator
So I smile at you, and say 'hi' to you, and offer you the opportunity to talk to me if you need
because if only for a moment in your day
or in your life, I want you to feel good about something, about someone
And so I am often misconstrued,
By some men they see it as an open door
By some women a phony moment
And it is neither
And I will not change
This is me.

These days everybody claim they swag trafficking

When really lives lack and seems

Nobody wants to be a king

Of life or hope or joy any good cling

And we climb each other's back

To touch mirage, not achieve a dream

And I ain't frontin' like I don't have the same thoughts

Or that I construct my life with only just the meager wants

Damn, I'm just about as guilty as the robber's bag

I'll open up and take, but I ain't even ask for that

A foul disclaimer as we go through life doing dirt,

hearts are filthy but display clean hands with all the nerve

Habitually, ritually ending up on Sundays in church

Spiritually hunting down Satan when we the real perps

Bodies there but hearts and minds trapped where sin's perched

Still frollicking at them places where frailties converge

We bring out them toys hacking other's weakness everyday

I just sank your battleship, now please go and pray.

I'm Sorry, But No Apologies

I admit I often wonder
What do you see in me?
The woman that inspires
Or the one that seeks to be?
The girl never admired
Or the woman that is too much?
The feelings you've retired
Or the chick you want to touch?
Am I the fanner of the fire
Or there for you in the clutch?
Never fancied myself a liar
but may stretch myself too much.

I've only ever wanted to take you higher
Exert my wisdom muse
My love never retires
Although my love gets used
Not sure what you saw prior
But today is all I know
Yesterday seems not as dire
And not clear 'bout tomorrow
A shame to say this through the wire
Keeping my distance long
It's never been my desire
Although the outcome's wrong.

Hopefully I'm preaching to the choir
And you understand my recluse ways
I'd just hate to be a flier
In your book, an excerpt on a page
I wish not to conspire
Or make you feel I'm false
To exist, I do require
That some people will get lost
Wish there was some life umpire
to make those final calls
But alone I walk this briar
I take the credit and the falls.

Vibe

I am trapped in this quest to express myself, speaking to earless narcissists, requesting answers from mouthless fools, dying to be seen by eyeless eclectics. Where do I genuinely exist? This makes perfect sense to me, and if not to you, I am sorry, but you are not who I am longing for.

intrinsically art

Being an artist is hard. From my perspective, I feel that a minute pool of artists ever achieve the level of exposure they seek. Most of us earn degrees and take jobs that guide us off the creative path, while forced to share our gifts with only ourselves, or our loved ones, because either we don't have the confidence that we've perfected our craft for the world to see or because we just don't see the point - no one will ever know us.

Stop your ninnying. If you want to be an artist, be one. Create for yourself, and if no one ever sees it, you did. You accomplished it. So write, rap, draw, paint, sculpt, speak, cook, bake....do it to EXpress, not IMpress.

Beasts

I'm not a fan of cruelty, disrespect or any other form of demeaning individuals. To be perfectly honest, I abhor people who seek out to use or manipulate with the sole intent of furthering his own agenda. We all get used sometimes, it's part of the game, but be careful about your goal purpose. This is my response to what I felt was a negligent proposal for my purpose.

Not for all the digits in the world
Will I do that jig, will I dance that twirl
My beastly pride does indeed not heed
to cease dysfunction and prevent mislead
-nigga please-
I sensed a feeling, then sniffed that breeze
So, here go yo' office, here go yo' keys
Here goes the veins and arteries
Here come nonexistent begs and pleas
I won't trip, but know pride can morph to disease

So we sit in our worlds and refuse to admit
that our beasts so strong, could have joined, could have fit
could have rocked, could have rolled, could have soared this shit
But the pride your beast chose, the group beast picked?
The den they in, don't you smell that stench??
Yo' beast smell loyalty,
My beast smell bitch.

I send mine gone and expect the same
Look up, and I'm circled by the pride, by the gang
Shoulda known, shoulda seen that ain't nothin change

But me....

Back to the wall, my beast begs to come back
Try to waive beast off, tell her don't attack
Don't make that sound! Don't make bones crack!

But my beastly pride does indeed not heed
to cease dysfunction and prevent mislead.
To ensure I'm sane, to prevent my fail
to ensure my triumph, pay any bail
So I fed my beast, I stuffed her well.

You Can Never Be Certain

Funny how sudden things can change

One moment basking in the sun

In a flash seeking shelter from the rain

Battered and bruised by life’s mental canes

So often my heart tries to console

My torn and weary soul

But ain’t that my brain’s role?

To process, reform and produce a package with bow?

And if not what part of me is responsible for making me whole?

Filling that gap and paying that toll?

Or is that depending on the circumstance

Self cannot heal

And from time to time we must rely

On the kindness of strangers

Handing over our future existence

To unwitting participants

And depending on our karma

We sink or swim in it

Now ain’t that some shit?

If indeed this is true

I suggest a watchful mind on how you treat me

Likewise on how I you

Rethinking what we will or won’t do

Resizing the fit of someone else’s shoe

Be prepared to walk in it

Cause there’s no telling when you’ll need to

Guaranteed before it’s all said and done

Enemies, rivals and opposites will critically intersect

Even just momentarily forced to connect

Like some twisted 3 legged race

Where your success to the finish your life predicates

Outcome that you play well with others

Or your life gets erased.

Let us be very clear about our intent. Let us not be influenced by the will of others when we know at our core it is not right. The world relies on us to become a pack of followers, partaking in egregious assaults on the human rights and liberties, not just willingly but excitedly participating in the demise of others, and not feeling when we do it.  To make it become such a natural way of existence that deceit, withholding, conniving and hate become as natural as walking, breathing or defecating.  Lured by worldly rewards, that when unwrapped and untied, are nothing more than demises, trapped in a box with crank attached. This, the physical mechanism that winds with every immoral, unethical and demeaning act we display, until, reaching life's limit, karma bursts out, rushing at us fervently to collect on our transgressions.

Do not be the pawn of a self proclaimed King or Queen; become the King or Queen to utilize your influence for the betterment of the human condition.

The Heart's Tell

I see a little bit of the truth each day,

I'll speak this tomorrow, yet you heard that today,

Which absolutely don't mean you can't believe what I say,

This just means that concerning my youth, 

progressively maturity outweighs.

I spend so many hours and so many days,

Refining my life for future out-pays,

Not material or worldly or fruitless displays,

The type where love and karma and beauty do play.

Yes, I see a little bit of the truth each day,

I'll speak this tomorrow, yet you heard that today

Which often, unfortunately my heart's core enclaves

For enlightenment prerequisites that I speculate

How do I adapt, do I acclimate?

Where do I seek the peace, or find what equates?

In me, in you, in love's arms we lay

Then the layers, the layers of heart's scars away.

Ode To Heels (A Tall Woman's Perspective)

These shorties they use you 
to falsify their goods
to elongate and confuse
to perpetrate a ruse.
I celebrate with you
appreciating your length
we collaborate, that's what we do
feeding off each other's strength.
No disrespect, no hate to you
vertically challenged chicks
but my statuesque build
-with the heels-
have a different intent.
Men’s insecurities will move us
usually with little tact
to put on those flats
put our friends back on the rack.
But heels I adore you
my legs exist for you
my hips swing just right
when we rendezvous.
So today I vow
right here and now
that I will always reach higher
feet not level the ground
that I will never deny you
despite who tends to frown
on our connection
because our affection
when I’m inside you
will never be compressed
by some short person’s view.

Breathe

I breathe in deeply, everyday, as many times as I can remember to, realizing that many people underrate breathing. The nostalgic scents of things, the connectedness created with no physicalities involved. The accumulation of oxygen into the lungs producing the unconsciously coveted affordance of life continuity. Just one second at a time, the next breath expected but not promised, the breath before quickly becoming a distant memory. But the present one, oh that present breath is.....
Unfathomable really, that as soon as we receive it, we just expect the next one to come without merit, without good deed, as if it belongs to us. Pompous, really. Without consequence, we as humans rarely perceive the validity of an action; however, what greater consequence than an end to life, an abrupt breathlessness, sudden and without warning. Lest it be sorrowfully slow, labored, where we must coexist with the suffering of others and remain tethered there, because only at that moment do we genuinely value breath, when we are faced with its extinction.