That black heart beats within that painted chest,
Writhing and coiling inside its pithy cage.
Sensing that there's more than the sorrows of life's test;
Knowing a salve exists for the pain, and fear, and rage.

That death inside that soul? It comes only from inside.
And what will make it whole? You'll never know...you always hide.

That heart is black not for its nature,
It isn't sadistic, callous, or harsh.
The problem isn't what it'll do, or endure,
This sickness lies in its apathetic march.

"Drive on," it says; "Endure the pain; someday they'll understand."
Yet what's to give...what's to get, when you won't extend your hand?

"Strength in numbers" is more than quip,
Masks, more than disguise.
Peace and comfort are given, when asked;
There's no benefit to lies.

The entire sky collapsed in its clouds,
as if life were a dream never to be reckon with.

In all fairness, I have been shown what love can do:
it can do more than anything you can ever imagine.

And I did, I did. And I done it again.
After all, the universe wasn't programmed.
So I did what I could: I grabbed love & loved myself.

By: Cedric McClester


He can stomp and shout
And even talk about
Let’s keep the Muslims out
And he’d do it, there’s no doubt
But he cannot pretend
There are no enemies within
More than now and then
People of another skin

On any given day
He may wake up and say
Let’s put ‘em all away
Or water board ‘em, okay?
He says what the heck
Because he doesn’t have respect
For the politically correct
I sincerely do detect

He talks off the cuff
Often with language that is rough
They seem to love his guff
Because they think he’s talking tough
We knew he wasn’t the nicest
But now he’s also helping ISIS
And so my sage advice is
Let’s stop him from rolling the dices

Despite how we might feel
We mustn’t allow ourselves to heel
To that fear monger’s appeal
Or give credence to his spiel
Because it cannot be denied
Judging by the way he’s lied
That he’s living to divide
And we know that’s no bromide





Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015.  All rights reserved.

There's too much in me to get out
I don't expect you to know
What all of this is really about
All I can do is try to show
My deepest and most serious intentions
I don't expect you to understand
All of this pain and all of this tension
Life has far too many demands
For me to try to comprehend
So I search and I wander
Looking for the means to meet the end
But all it does is continue to make me ponder
Why I continue to do this
What's the purpose?
How do I get through this?
Is it worth it?

I stopped to take look
as if i opened a book
the mirror made it bigger
i rubbed it to make it clearer

what i saw
dang near beat all
the lines
the sag of the eye
the scar on the jaw
the crack of my craw

days of youth have slipped on by

as i sit ever so spry
careful now as to avoid another nick

i vow to never look again
in the light
ctrl+alt+delete
from my data bank
gone from this slippn mind
i will always be twenty-nine

do not receive me wrong
for i have no regret
for the scars of mine

sun and rain
strife and pain
carved this face of mine

it tells the story of
life and work
pain and strain
and worry

a life well lived
of all it and i had to
give.

I find myself tongue-tied, and i have been for a very long while.
i'm not quite sure what i can attribute this to...
it's been a quality of mine ever since i've learned to speak.

     (where i've gone and
           the few faces along the way,
                    with eyes like distorted mirrors
                                     showing me my strange self)

i have trouble finding my place, yet i've found many places
i don't  know how to connect, though at times i feel connected

you have  me confused

                   s c    a     t       t e      r            
                               b      r a         i      n    e  d  

back and forth for so long, and finally landed separate,
fixed in each other's shade of the soon-to-be-forgotten past
because-- i don't have a because.
because i have too many becauses.

because i simply cannot

i can't place my finger on why.
i don't feel as real
                                     as i used to.
please understand


life is confusing because there are so many different ways to see it.
so one can never be too sure what is true.
about self,  reality, or other people.
there are a million different experiences of the color green.
i am seen one way, but i feel about myself something invisible.
and sometimes i don't feel anything about anything at all.

she
spoke as if she knew the world down to its heartbeat,
and could see through its bones.
she spoke as if her eyes were the only eyes,
and they saw all truths.
she was not careful with her words
and never stepped outside of her body
to see how imprisoned she was in her thoughts.
she obsessed over what she saw in others,
and what they saw in her.
for that, i think, she always wore the sun.