Crazy Bird Lady


“God is Love”

 

That’s all, she told me

whispering above the noise outside

while Chaotic going crazy

 

screaming,

“Time just ran by

turning Days in to Night”

 

and I was just existing

trying to live like

 

a bird in a cage

waking up through it all,

All I could remember was….

 

Love

 

And she had forgotten it all

Like last nights dinner

when we fought

 

Leaving it all on the table,

the candles burned and so did our souls

barbecued, simmered, baked and fried

while she cried

 

“The devil is Hate”

 

Skipping her ass down

her stroll of fate

feeling angry red and crazy blue

Crazy eyed, looking

 

through tears

praying one day we rest

to rest our minds on Love’s chest

 

Singing her a song

and flapping my wings

laying her down

to give her dreams

 

Shhhhh

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We Gone


oh yes

we did,

 

last night me and she

raced our hearts to the moon

so that we could give light

to what we created

 

without seat belts or air bags,

We escaped from the world

as if we were employed by NASA

to rediscover what only a few can

 

soaring over horizons

made of brick barb wired walls

never experienced

by the ordinary man nor woman

together, because we are not

 

For whomever wanted to know

if we’d be back soon,

or if we packed away our fears

and arrived to this anticipated bliss

 

becoming urban myths of

God and Goddess

 

Oh yes,

we made it

Better Not


Better not close your eyes before you sleep

Tiptoeing in the dark while bad things creep

Bad like you and me, posing with our arms folded across our chest

Dosing off on dreams, calling ourselves dope and fresh

Wanting to be saved and wanting to be men

Dying inside for The Truth after being born in sin

The insiders roll their eyes, thinking of crazy things to say

hunched over by evil and bags of lies that weigh

Filled with greasy greens and slimy meat

Hoping I dose again and eat my way to sleep

How could they forget, when I ate at their table

Picked my feet and cleaned my naval

Dirty dishes, clogged toilets, and over flowing sinks

Better not close your eyes, not even a blink

Better Not

Finding Mr. Perfect


Today like most days I contemplated on perfection. I thought about several ways that I can better myself. I thought about ways to become a better person, a better husband, a better dad, a better professional and a better son. I thought back to the days of when I was growing up and always being the shortest kid, the nerd, the kid that was never apart of the in crowd. A lot of times it saddened me. Back then it made me feel as if I would never be good enough to be good at anything. And then I began to think about all the incredible things that has happened to me so far in life. I thought about the situations I’ve endured and the trials that I took head on and conquered. I looked back at where I was 10 years ago to where I am now and I can’t help but feel blessed.

One thing that has always been constant is that there will always be bitter with the sweet. And sometimes we need the bitterness in order to know when life is getting sweet. Mental strength can go a long way and having that confidence and sometimes over confidence in yourself is all that’s needed to change your perception about yourself and/or life.

Perfection is not a physical accomplishment, it’s a mental challenge.

What I’ve Become


I was raised in a strict and strong religious household by a single mother, who at a certain point in her life felt that it was time to “come clean” and commit the rest of her life to God, which in turn also meant that my sister and I were to do the same. Any ambitions or dreams of mine as a kid to become a football player,  a wrestler, a fireman or as a teenager to become a doctor,a  lawyer, or an officer were secondary. To my mother the real achievement in life was to save my soul and others from “the world”. Naturally, any child wants to receive approval from their parents and even more so if there is only one parent. So at a young age I became a master at getting that “approval”, even if it meant me being unhappy. For many years I played the role of the perfect son and prospered spiritually in my bubble even though deep down I knew that the person that I had become was not me.

However, being in this strict religious household was not all bad. It did save me from a lot of dangers that most inner-city children are exposed to. I learned many valuable lesson and many valuable morals are instilled in me today because of my past. One important lesson that has always stuck with me is that we all posses the quality of Free Will. We all have the ability to make our own choices without any constraints, whether it be good or bad. And as a young adult, learning this important fact and pondering over it for years, I decided that I could no longer be the person that my mother wanted to be. I was going to be who I wanted to be and be content with the decisions that I make, whether it be good or bad. I was ready for “the world”. I had finally freed the person I held inside for so long.  I was ready to discover all that I had been protected from and experience life outside of the bubble.  And to my mothers surprise, although there have been some obvious disappointments, I am not that different now than who I was then.


 I Ain’t Afraid

I stay living

blinking days away day-to-day

Waking up to monsters at night

and day dreaming my fears away

On bright days you might find me

intoxicated with strength

passing the bottle to my kinfolk and kid

Not afraid to die and wanting my youngin to live

Holding his innocence to the sky

hoping he stay in the light of the Omega

Sometiming tears down my beard

So that I can savor them later

To remind me to stay convicted as I march through battlefields

With my loved one’s spirits in front of me

Hypocritical savages trying to take down the Gemini

or maybe even just one of me

But in two’s I walked out of the ark

to face the storm alone

So that when the Son comes down

I’ll already be home

With my youngin held high

far from the reach of  their fears

Intoxicated with my kinfolk while

Son drying the dampness of my beard