Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Hallway

the memory of you is like a hallway
the one I always go 'round but never really go down
'cause I already know what'll go down if I do...
I will reach out to you
and we will reminisce about the sweetness of the bliss
but see, the part I always miss is 'bout the blisters
the heat upon my neck when I found out 'bout how you
kissed her
naw see
but I will still reach out
not because I miss you
but because I crave the toxins that you teach,
the poison that you preach
that perfect potent potion of scribe, scholar and street
with a swagger like a dagger that cuts my heart down deep
and leaves chasms in my mind where joy once lived...
I stand frozen at the edge of that hallway
here your memory thrives within the medial temporal lobe
contemplating should I visit the place I used to call home
should I reach out to you, Foxglove, the one I used to call home
or meditate upon the reasons
that I used to call this home
I used to.
bye love.

Monday, June 12, 2017

Help Wanted

You scoured for hours the internet
Left a great resume online
Even took some extra classes
To reinvigorate your mind
You found some promising listings
Attended the job fair in Elmwood Pines
But when you were offered positions
You abruptly chose to decline...
You've interned for a few months now
You arrive to work on time
You follow every protocol
Even empty the coffee grinds
Your employer is impressed with you
Asks "Would you like to be full time?"
And with little hesitation
You abruptly choose to decline
But why?
When you acted so anxious to find somewhere
To get on somewhere, to belong somewhere
You put on like you wanted to own that chair, in the corner office someday
But you say
"I only intern at Fortune 500s, it looks good on my resume,
that way, if a better job comes along
I can easily break away, I apologize Employer
I had no real intentions to stay..."
The Employer comes to on a balcony
We watch your arms flail and sway
Security has your ankles and we hear you
Audibly pray
"Let me up from here!  This is crazy!
You have really lost your mind!"
The blank faced Employer contemplates
If they'll abruptly choose to decline

Bare Faced

I do not go bare faced
I do not give you permission to see my scars and marks
To judge me
Vulnerability is not my thang
But I hurt sometimes
So I shellac on another artful facade
That seems to be more pleasing
And the lower I feel, the longer the lash,
The redder the lip
And a highlight that might blind Mr. Wonder
But I wonder if it's good enough
To give me a hall pass past unsolicited inquiry
Because with such a pretty mask there is no need for you to ask
What's wrong
I do not go bare faced
Because deep down I don't trust you enough to
Love me based on content of character in this frame
If L'Oreal tells me I'm worth it then I should never be ashamed
Every time I put my war paint on
I'm ready to kill the game
I am a modern day warrior that a negative could never tame
I do NOT go bare faced

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Drown

I have stepped off the edge
The waters surround my ankles and engulf my legs
The colour of the surf contrasts with the bronze of my skin
Its warmth is inviting
Its sound is like that of a thousand whispers, that of secrets far to grand for me to know
Waist deep I lean backwards and allow myself to be immersed
Granting the azure abyss free reign to take over
And over
And over
Hoping that this sea of salt may cure my madness
Or else flood my mind with some other emotion
Unrelated to missing you.
Perhaps the sea will pour through my breaches, and fill the empty hollows where joy once lived
Perhaps the strong currents might will me away, to someplace beyond the horizons I know
I am eager to un-remember I am anxious to forget
I am keen to bring downright overcome, just numb
To flood my mind with some other emotion
Unrelated to missing you.

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Digital Earth

The supreme struggle for relevance
Thrives in digital earth
The obsession with false knowledge
Breeds the best of all the worst
The kingdom of the bully, the corral of the accursed
If pettiness is a diety, social media is its church
Congregation full of misrepresentation
From the safety of a keyboard, people quick to forget their station
Whatever pain or wicked thing
Whatever lust or gripe
Is hastily commented on with a few clicks and some type
With words as ammunition you make their trigger finger itch and so
At night, they troll your time line trying to figure out your clique
Trying to post that thousandth selfie to convince you of their worth
But because you are well watered, you don't suffer from their thirst
The supreme struggle for relevance
Thrives in digital realms
The obsession with false knowledge
Might cause one to be overwhelmed
The truth is, what is relevant will remain to be what is true
What is of importance is treating others as you want them to treat you



Sunday, January 8, 2017

I heart Guitar

I sit here in a blissful state in the middle of a John Mayer concert on TV, after finishing an Ed Sheeran one (naturally) and I realized...I love the sound of guitar based music.  I am hopelessly drawn to it.  The tone of sound makes me feel absolutely beyond, on a different plane of thinking altogether.  I look at some of my favorite guitarists, Jimi Hendrix, Prince, Lenny Kravitz, Gary Clark Jr., Muddy Waters, Ernie Isley and many others, and in my mind, they're like renegades; pirates sailing the sonic seas, defying the rules of convention and creating melodies from the raw energy inside, energy that resounds past location, time, or nation, universal type stuff, you know?  Well, I too have a guitar.  It's acoustic...you would think for as long as I've had it I'd be a master in the line of India.Arie or Ms. Lauryn Hill.  It leans patiently against my record crate, waiting for me to release my own universal energy, but thus far I have lacked the needed dedication to achieve my pirate goals.  Perhaps subconsciously I fear leaving my soul in its hollow, as I know many guitarists do, allowing the chords to reveal my personal vulnerabilities for all the world to see.  I suppose that's something I admire as well about guitarists, it seems they fear not, and allow us to glimpse, peer and bask in the everything they are, flaws and all.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Jaques

Sometimes melancholy drapes over you like a heavy cloak, smothering you yet warming you all at once.  Smothering the joy but warming the creative process, in an effort to alleviate the weight.