OLD

i look in the mirror
and feel old
outdated
faded.

i am looking through the lens of fatigue,
a tired body is ill at ease,
not always accurately does its mind perceive.

pulchritude has never been my currency,
the first thing most people see in me-
that which lent validity.

living in a world that places so much value
on physical appearance,
i mastered the art of dis-appearance
learning to hide deep inside;
shrink from severe lack of confidence;
stuff the pain with food
in lieu of alcohol or cocaine.

now, I mature,
a process treated with great contempt,
as if it were manure.

the gift of getting older
is that One gets bolder!
You tend to give
less of a fuck
to the ego
and the others
who think you just plain suck.
Ain’t nobody got the time
for that drama and fuss.

The Long Arm of Slavery

Molecular memory,
this may inform
the long arm of slavery.

The past
reaching relentlessly
into the future.
Those who were once deemed “master”
carry the seeds of feeling superior-
better than those they enslaved:
the men shackled and emasculated;
the women relegated to nannies and maids,
their dark bodies laid open
to cavalierly invade.

Trauma being made
on and in both sides;
a slow
imperceptible
suicide.

When will we finally realize…

 

Waking from a Deep Sleep

I am

waking

from a deep sleep,

wondering

Where am I?
What is it
I had to eat?
How did I get here
to these beliefs?

I rub my eyes

as I try

to make sense

of what has become complete nonsense.

I hear the ancestors cry;
they ask why?

Why are you and your kin moving back?
Do you not realize this is a slap
in the face
to those who were brave?
Don’t allow our sacrifice and pain
to have been made in utter vain-
wasted blood, sweat, and tears
over the course of hundreds of dark years!

Wake up from your deep sleep,
the antecedents weep.

It is now your turn to learn
that freedom ain’t free;
it is your sacred responsibility
to the past, present and future
family.

Dark Chocolate

I see You.

You have no clue

what your entity

unleashes

within

me.

Instantaneously,

the heat rises

from underneath.

Familiar stirrings,

deep yearnings,

salivation

follows

thoughts of salvation

in the form of sweet sensations

found in your arms

and between your thighs.

You

the color and smell of darkest chocolate,

the taste of an elegant wine,

the touch and feel of a Man at his prime.

Alas, you have no clue

what it is you do,

how I perceive of you.

#MoreLove

More Love

this is what the world

needs more of.

More time spent together

remembering we are

keepers of each other.

We’re all made of the same stuff,

crafted from sanctified dust;

unique yet the same,

OneLove with different names.

In you, I see my divinity;

In me, you see your humanity.

We are but mere mirrors –

brothers, sisters.

We must re-member

What We Really Are,

never from our Light

shall we stray too far.

More Love

that is what our world

craves more of-

give It,

receive It,

preach It,

commit

to

Love.

Make It your religion,

your only reason for being.

Two Friends

Two Friends

on a beach

walking,

talking,

planning,

dreaming,

birthing

their visions

into existence.

One Friend,

compelled by her Soul’s necessity;

The Other,

moved by an insatiable curiosity.

Both,

desiring to leave behind

an indelible legacy-

to inspire,

empower,

unleash creativity;

to free the masses

from contraction and boredom

by en-couraging

expansion and freedom!

These two friends

on that beach

were destined to meet,

brought together

by old friends

now deceased.

The story continues

until it is

complete.

 

 

 

The Wave

i must see myself

as part of The Wave,

not some outlier to be saved

from this swarm of humanity

and its seeming insanity.

to most every body,

this frenzied activity

is really quite ordinary.

though, not to me

a Soul that craves

tranquility;

the one that runs from the grind,

just trying to find

much less human density.

must do so quickly,

lest risk immediate psychic misery.

“Oh Lord, help me to perceive differently,”

i pray, so that i may longer stay

in the place where i am free,

not enslaved by a trickster ego

playing devious jokes on me!

The Second Agreement

To most, she is seen as sweet,

angelic and gracious.

To some, she is perceived as bitter,

mischievous, and a tad imperious.

Over there, her presence elicits

captivation and glee!

Here, she is an irksome mystery

from which all wish to quickly flee!

It all depends

on the spectator lens,

the time of day,

the way

the wind bends.

Not about her;

it is simply

a matter

of subjectivity.

She, sensitive in nature,

must re-call

the most challenging agreement

of them all:

Take no thing personally.

“It is not about me,”

she must come to see,

so as to not suffer needlessly,

drowning in an abyss of sheer misery.

To live peacefully,

to walk confidently,

to do righteously,

she must be steeped

only

in He.

 

 

America

“O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me. And yet I swear this oath-America will be!” Langston Hughes

 

My country

strives to be

a sweet Land of Liberty,

a Crown of Beauty,

from sea to shining sea-

an example

a beacon

to other countries

and peoples

to witness

the possibility

of beloved community

amidst vast diversity,

of justice

amidst adversity,

of kindness

in the midst of such plenty.

America,

this grand, young experiment

in democracy-

governance

of

for

by

We, The People.

Still struggling with its meaning,

back and forth, we go;

to and fro,

from the high

to the very low.

Another birthday,

America 

tentatively celebrates,

expressing gratitude

for what is good.

While also cultivating

a firm commitment

to manifesting

for all

that which is

honorable,

innocent,

hopeful

within the

imperfect,

complex,

uncomfortable

experiment

that gave birth to a nation

of immigrants.