I Met God This Morning.
He Was Sitting At A Bus Stop. I Sat Down Beside Him. I Was Convinced He Was Was Part Of Some Devine Intervention, Thinking If He Could Find Silence So Close To The Street, He'd Finally Be Able To Say He'd Seen A Miracle.
But I Wasn't So Sure i Had Seen Anything Because I Wasn't Raised On A Diet Of Bread And Wine, Oh Excuse Me, Body And Blood, Wasn't Cannibalized By The Holy Spirt. Now Don't Get Me Wrong, I'm Not The Sanctimonious Sacrilegious Type. But I've Placed My Hand, To Enough HeartBeats To Know We're Placed Here For A Reason.
And Then I Met Him Again, In A Convenience Store On The Corner Of Locust. He Kissed The Palm Of My Hand, And Told Me To Pray More Often.
But I Wasn't Prone To Midnight Awakenings, My Tongue Didn't Speak The Same Language The Almighty Savior Did. Everyone Called Him Father, But I Was Told We Were Better Off Without Daddy Around. Hadn't Learned The Right Hymns, My Lungs Not Strong Enough To Hold A Breath Deep Enough For The Two Of Us.
And Then I Saw Him Again. Working A 100 Hour Week, On No Sleep. This Time He Was A Single Mother Of Three, Whose Hands Had Stitched More Wounds Then They Could Care To Count. They Didn't Call It An Emergency Room, For Nothing. Two Hundred Thousand Dollars In Debt Over School Loans, And Still Had The Capacity To Smile. Thats How I Knew It Was Him.
I Wasn't Baptized In Anything Except For Maybe Hell Fire And Brimstone, Seven Shades Of Sin, Out Of Wedlock, With No Shot Gun Wedding Procession. I Didn't Have A Pastor To Preach Me Into Submission. Wasn't Thumbing Any Bibles, No Prequel To My Older Than New Testament. They Called It Faith, But I Wasn't Prepared To Walk Down Any Pitch Black Hallways In Hopes Of A Light Switch.
And Then We, He And I, Crossed Paths, For What Seemed Like Should Have Been The Last Time, He Was Quiet And Collected This Time. Made Weak From His Seventh Round Of Chemotherapy. His Body Was Decaying Around Him. His Spirt Was Practically Screaming To Be Let Out Of The Cage That Was His Ribs. He Passed Me A Note, & All It Said Was “I'll Remember You.”
No One Ever Fed Me A Concoction Of Deity, And Diet. Religion Wasn't A Silver Spoon In My Mouth. Afterlife Sounded Like A Bad Daytime Soap Opera.
But I Know The Creator. She Left Hearts On Notes In New York City Subway Stations. She Tattooed Your Name Onto The Bottom Of Her Foot, So Wherever They Took Her, You'd Be There Too. She Wore Her Heart On Her Sleeve, And Thats Why She Forgot It In So Many Places. She Was Obsessed With Shorelines, And Sunshine. And Shes Convinced We're All Natural Disasters, Happening Naturally, Falling Into Each Other, Against One Another, Like Dry Lightening Storms, Recklessly Stupid, And Always Too Young.
I Know God.
He Was Holding The Umbrella, And Told Me That No One Can Tell The Difference Between Tears And Rain Drops Anyway. He Was There The Day I Almost Drowned, He Pulled Me Out Of The Lake, And Held My Hand Until My Mother Came.
So Maybe I Wasn't The Church Pew Type, Hadn't Spent Hours At Sunday Service, Passing Around Empty Collection Plates, While Plates Else Where In The World Sat Empty. Didn't Know Scripture Like The Back Of My Hand, Two Freckles, Like Constellations, And Five Knuckles Hungry To Be Broken,
But I Know God.
I Know Him Like An Old Friend.
He Kisses My Forehead, When The Monsters Inside The Contours Of My Skull Got Too Loud.
He Holds My Skeleton, In The Early Hours Of The Morning, When I Was Desperate To Leave It Behind.
I Think Some People Might Have Called All Of These A Religious Experience.
But All I Know Is He Was There When I Was Born.
In The Room.
And I Swear His Voice Was The First One I Heard.
You are my early morning
Your touch is like
Chilling wind on my face
Have ever seen your
Tiny feet play around …
In my mind
I could even hear your
Sweet sounds in my ears
And would start searching
Would like to watch you
Just for fondling
Always wished I could see you
I just felt like child play
You suddenly disappeared
From my dreams
Swinging the cradle
And waiting for you to come
Will you not come along?
Cannot sleep well and tiered, please come to me my dear
Will you not come to me ever?
I am shattered and need you
Have you found my sweet little baby?
Concern I am as a mother of three
of young girls and young boys, of today you see
Their parents wake up as early as 3
Spend time at work night and day
Hours of strenuous day
of hot and cold sweat ,
drains most of their energy ,
cooks their brain half dead
just to own some money
the sole breadwinners for family
a total responsibility,
unwritten committment never a burden
for the sake of love for family..sons and daughters
So dear young sons and daughters
Remember to value your parents sacrifices
not only for the material worth
but for their wisdom and virtues
the tears of blood that sometimes fall
to make you human and man of your own
but look at yourself today and ask
how much love have you sacrificed?
to honor these two great people
who'd given everything for you, even their life
to even write a word or two
to appreciate their love and compliment their good deeds
in a form of prose, haiku or poetry
instead everyday you declare to the whole world outside
look this is my man or the woman I love
till death do us part... till eternity
Your parents who've raised
and known you your whole young life
is no longer priority?
How pathetic.. how unfortunate... how sad..
for a second try to put yourselves
in your parents shoes....
imagine their smiles if they are reassured
that your love for them
is not number two....
so... do think wise!
On a summer morning,
Monkey had awoken early,
His eyes all sleepy,
And his hair wildly curly.
He opened the door,
He had to use his mouth,
Because his tail was way too sore.
Monkey shut the door behind him,
His friend Panda,
Was called hungry, hungry Jim.
Monkey was off to work,
His tail dragging on the floor,
He was sure to be back in time,
To feed his family of four.
Although monkey was guilty,
He missed work twice,
Monkey was confidently sure,
His boss would be all nice.
Monkey had walked to the glass,
It said no dogs allowed,
For sure he was a monkey,
He walked in and proudly bowed.
His boss said he had to leave,
For he was not a monkey,
But monkey had explained,
He was very chunky.
The boss escorted his out,
Angry as could be,
For sure he was a monkey,
Can’t his work boss see?
He decided to go food shopping,
At the nearest grocery store,
He wanted to get home quickly,
So his family wouldn’t be that poor.
Monkey walked to the grocery store,
His feet were aching,
It was 10 miles away,
This was a big risk that he was taking.
Monkey got there very fast,
Quick as in running,
It said only monkeys allowed,
Wow that sign was stunning!
Monkey had barged in,
All the monkeys were looking at him,
He was told to get out,
So then he visited his old friend,
Hungry, hungry Jim.
When monkey had arrived,
Jim had told him he was a dog,
So Monkey left ashamed,
In the new deep fog.
Monkey had decided to go home,
And Comfort his 3 young ones,
He’d see his wife,
Oh, he loved them all a ton.
Hungry, Hungry Jim smiled,
As if he was really, really bad,
He decided not to eat him today,
He saw him so sad.
Was just around the corner,
It was a pretty color white,
But most of the time,
There was not much light.
He had opened his house door,
So lonely and ashamed,
He was a monkey,
He had claimed.
Monkey flickered on the light,
Nobody was there,
His wife and kids left him a note,
“You are a dog, we could not bear”.
Monkey was so depressed now,
He walked to hungry, hungry Jim’s house
He had tiptoed in,
And was as quiet as a mouse.
Jim had caught him,
And asked why he was not home,
Monkey had explained,
His house is just a comb.
Monkey said his family had left him,
Because he was a dog,
They think I don’t belong,
And am just a plain old hog.
All of a sudden,
The panda ate him whole,
And the only thing that was left,
Was his sad little soul.
We all have our taste.
We all are judgments.
And in music there's no different.
Except, people personal opinions.
Doing their time, they were the music of soul to many.
When people probably dance a little different.
Nat King Cole.
Doing their era music had changed.
More was borrowed from the previous decade.
Jackie Wilson and Sam Cooke.
And yes, Pat Boone too.
The music of the soul were beaingt to a different tone.
Then came the sixties.
And a various style came before us.
The Beach Boys.
The Temptations and the Supremes and the Miracles.
Was totally changed from Neal Sedaka early days.
James Taylor, Carole King, Elton John and the Eagles.
Marvin Gaye, Teddy Pendegrass and the O'jays.
Was the masters of the seventies decades
The the eighties came.
And again the music changed.
Rick James, Prince and Madonna too.
Don't we see all the above artists in the music of today.
Especially, in rap.
Where they take an old song and tries to create a new tune.
And questions, why they getting sued?
May infamy strike its curséd name
Maiming, mutilating, mundaning
As my battered body and tattered soul
Struggle to gain a foothold
Grasp at nothing for a breath
And wither with every passing moment
I have wished for solitude
But it was meant to be serene and silent
Not a deafening blare of desolation
I am alone, I am alone
It's me against the devil
And the devil is winning
I can feel his grip tightening on my mind
Idle for too long, yet equally active
The stench of despair curls around my nose
And curdles my blood like aging milk
Lethargic weeping plagues my day
And unmitigated fallacy my nights
We had grown so close, you and I
I could feel the blanket of depression lifting
The fog clearing, the sun shining
But whether it be an appetite for destruction
Or a fear of inevitably deeper attachment
You went away, far far away
You are my sunshine, my goddess
Why must you hide behind the storm?
Banish its painful treachery
Shed the scintillating beauty of your smile
Upon my dreary heart once more
I need your light
But that is only a wish amongst dreams
Has my destiny changed
Or is this the course I was meant to take?
I could care less at this early hour
Because I'm lonely today
Also, I know mundaning is not a word but hey, we all need to craft some words every once in a while right?
i made a wish
late last year
or early this year?
it was set highly upon a
but i wished
(sorry cant say the exact wish, it might not come completely true then)
for someone to make me happy
the happiest person
i got it
or part of it
i got to be happy, i'm happy now
but without you
i'm not happy
and neither are you
all wishes come with a price....
is that my price?
or is it going to be more expansive?
i don't know if i am willing to pay
for the expenses of a wish set upon a star
they is a word that is used only to scare those to whom it does not apply boo they say there's going to be a long hot summer coming early time for cops to don riot gear and carry clubs you know that it will be all year they say some people just don't understand law with a side of order so you have to beat it into them boo boo boo that's what they tend to say I don't say and you don't say but that's what they say very easy to play they say you don't need numbers or real thought or intelligence or a hood or bat or chain or any kind of base for consideration they just make it up and we blindly go along
Amidst life that speaks in tones of everyday normalcy richness can get lost beauty can be taken for
Granted the first awareness that you created was mellowness but at its center was diffused beauty
The earth did stand still nothing sees so keenly as a heart that has been opened and stunned where
You were standing all things fled to a distance you were left alone a sacred hollowness surrounded you
Love creates the environment in an instant when it sees possibilities a life is being proposed a union
For life is conjured a story of place and promise runs in all directions only the night breeze can speak
These things with perfect eloquence tender embrace surrender that creates trust takes and binds all
Fear lets two souls become one in incomparable measures perfection known in no better terms two
Forms elegantly expressed they move in emotional storms that lead to discovery of what each has at
Their core and they find with amazement that they are truly mostly identical what a rush when you find
Your other half glory starts a dance that only ever widens to matrimony and the significance of life
When you produce a life that is yours can any other sky be so delightful where else can such tenderness
Spring when they coo a song that says were family the magic that was confirmed with a kiss now has
Reached the flood stage of bliss little arms jerk in that motion there is a telling of a bond that was stirred
And began when eyes met and promise silently spoke and triggered a path that opened unseen but love
Guided on the captured hearts that were meant to share a life it might be lived in ordinary days but still
When you look at one another longing still stirs time has only made the shaky early days into a fortress
Built by caring sharing esteeming the other what a grand opulence pervades seen in heavenly climes
Stained glass windows depict your life truly the prince and princess of fairy tales are there depicted
The prince in blue the princess in a white gown a small cottage stands in the distance there are no
Greater fairy tales than when love works itself out in human life one line sums it up they are thrilled
By each other’s touch or I fall at your feet with weakness you lift me in your own powerlessness
Our spirits as a vacuum then allows grace to flow it surges it disallows all selfish acts a fire unquenchable
Burns with purist burning its blazing leaps in the dark night it shows for all to see a great love is being
Consumed and lived fully I dedicate this to Ivy on her birthday truly love never dies
I connected back
with old friends
from high school.
It's only been four years,
that's not long,
or so I thought.
Most were where
I left them last;
mediocre jobs, with
the same old people.
They never went
to college, or tried
to succeed in any field.
Just empty resignation.
Some left the game early;
car crashes, opiate overdoses,
or benzos and alcohol.
I'd say that I missed them,
but I saw it coming.
I even warned some of them.
I missed their funerals.
I missed weddings,
just the same.
There were four or five
that surprised me.
Only twenty, not
old enough to drink,
but somehow old enough
to devote their lives
to a woman or a nation.
I wonder how
they've managed that,
when I can't find a place
or a person worth
sticking around for.
Who'd have thought
that here I'd be:
staring at the bottom
of another bottle of wine.