Sitting in the presence of grandeur
and I realize I'm always much
more comfortable outside these
places than in them

I imagine the childhood
memories made here
not clouded by ornate
gold ceilings
or silver that's
meant to be polished
but instead
spent running through
the maze of
outdoor
man-made
paradise

Much like the Secret Garden
this must have been their
fortress from this
where they made blissful
hidden memories
a treasure chest of
"remember when"

The only key that can unlock it
is letting go

Become that elated child again
running through the maze of
your life
that the universe created
without listening
for the dinner bell

what do you call
the silence on the other end
of a phone call
or the space in between
where i am &
where i want to be?

things that take effort.
patience & persistence.
forgiveness & forward-motion.

no one breaks barriers
from making realizations
it all stems from creation
& that
is a pivotal realization.

do you ever get
so mad
at something so
seemingly trivial
you begin to ask
yourself, what is it
that you're actually
fuming about?

there has to be
some explanation
as to why you went
from water that's
room temperature
to the steam blowing
out of a tea kettle,
right?

melting
butter into pancakes
and me
human into existence

**** carpet of experience
wraps itself around
pulls tight
it's funny how I feel
most secure when
i'm sure of being unsure

it happens especially when
sitting by the shore
there is no distinction
i am as much the sea
as a tree
when i'm leaning
up against it

it's funny how hard it is
to decipher what
people mean
when they talk
but a quick ocean breeze
or rustle in the leaves
of the trees
tells me all that i
will ever need
reminding me to melt
into moments
presented to me

it happened again
another life taken
****
i
am
so
tired
of
this

i thought
this is
the reality of being black
the least i could do
was bear witness to
that fateful moment
when two men thought
they had the right
to play God

to knock you over
and look down on you
as they pulled the trigger

the racism in their bullets
make wounds that
never heal
in hearts that are
still beating
and i'm so sorry that
the last thing you saw
were hateful eyes

i'm sitting here and
pleading insanity
on behalf of humanity

bullets in black bodies
from the hands of
ignorant and aggressive
white men
who ****** without
repercussion or remorse

the cycle repeats
as the definition states

bullets in black bodies
from the hands of
ignorant and aggressive
white men
who ****** without
repercussion or remorse

what is it going to take
to remedy this pain
please someone assure us
that this time
his life will
not be in vain

we have to change
and stop living in
America: the land of
the insane.

When people learn how
not to hate in the name of
love, Spirit breathes free.

Like a pack running from a predator
we all dispersed
without ample time to say goodbyes
confess to one another
which beautiful moments
that we treasure most

Like a pack running from a predator
we knew the drill
it's inevitable that we all must leave
but that still does not set us at ease
our hearts pulling in new directions

Departures are always much
trickier than arrivals

Time slips by quicker
as the ground we walk upon ripples

And what was once familiar to us
feels like Déjà vu
we think we've been here before
but then again, we're not really sure

See, we're walking with new feet
down an unchanged street
coming across people
who want us to chop up our time
place our experience on a line
that can be measured

We all know that's not the real treasure
but we indulge them
for their own pleasure
they just don't know any better

But we do
we know that travel can't be plotted on a graph
it's effect on you is not linear, like math

And the people who we meet
enter our lives out of pure chance
our hearts collide and the fates dance

In the depths of my soul
I know it's true
that however brief
I was meant to meet
each and every one of you

I fell in love everyday with
people
places
moments
conversations

All of which will serve as
my central station
while I attempt the navigation
of re-assimilation.