I’m stained with secrets
slowly burning with heat of sunrise
My heart lives there
between the echoed footsteps of goodbyes
My lips spill time uncontrollably
my tongue is chasing seconds
That pass memories in the dark
I’m filled with Faith
Raging with the joy of Resurrection
my soul lives here
Inside the tears of trials and triumphs
My voice carries a message that is everlasting
It is unconditional, it is love
For Black History Month I thought I would share something I wrote as a teen, that entails my experiences…
So is this really my culture to bear,
just because I am the only black man in the room – does not
make me a shadow.
My voice sounds like a whip
my walk is an echo of every march to unify our Nation
my tears are rivers that lead from captivity to equality
and when you see me –
I am still just a wish never dreamed of
a thunderstorm you long to drive through
yet safety is found under black roof tops that shelter you from
So I stand in every room
Cracking my whip across misled perceptions
because being black is not a conception to be used to be
it means the scars that have been covered by progress
are not to be forgotten
the sting of once open wounds has not dissipated
Within our hearts we relieve the triumph of everyone who
spoke and died for us
So this whip I swing back and pray you feel it snap across your conscious. That being alive, is being human
that is what we are all struggling to be,
Clear gray pastures that lead me abound
Journeys into the unknown abyss of unlimited possibilities.
I have swam these concrete waters before, this time it’s different. The construction seems to patch up those distant fears I hid
Nothing quiets the labor of rubber being beaten upon ancient cracks of regret yet even that constant reminder cannot diffuse the beauty that is before me.
I pray with wide open eyes, I thank with closed lips and look only ahead.
There is a fight inside me, I am struggling to control that pull to run. I am fighting for unknown reasons, fighting a past that forcefully is trying to shape the present.
It is no longer a reason in the present, because change has come. Forgiveness has laid waste to anger, so I am looking at you in compassion.
We can hold hands, make love, and talk all night about how bright the future may be. Yet, as long as you live in the past our future will remain unattainable.
I am yelling to be heard and you cover your ears like a child. I am on my knees and your back is turned. So I stay on my knees and pray. You need not know that I am praying for you. For the peace in your mind to return, for the strength of your weary soul to manifest again.
I never stopped believing in you, I just stopped listening; then you stopped listening to me. Now I have let go of youthful pride, I can hear your words, your heart.
Can you, will you hear mine?
This satin rose pedaled splendor laid before, surrounded by silken legs of delight.
I find myself dreaming of each touch before it happens, my mind racing with anticipation of what might come next.
Wanting to open that velvet curtain of desire, I hold patiently traversing the landscape around it. The sunset of her eyes stare out at me from between the valley of her gently swaying bosom. She too, yearns for the maybes that linger with each gentle kiss. We grasp hands and pull close. Knowing our innocence is worth the wait.
Breathless and awake, feet dangling just inches above the bottom. Toes scratching for secure ground.
The wind stirs the restless stillness around. Scattering those visions of tomorrow’s hope across a barren, plowed field. Absolution is far beyond the nerves of outstreched fingertips.
The waves quarantine the air that is fighting to break through . The sun flashes off and on as desperation sets in, night seems to onset as a darkness cloaks the skyline.
Was there ever a chance to escape this comforting, rocking tomb . Hope seems like a mirage of temptations that leads to false understanding of just how deep in we really are.
Maybe to scarring to recall.
Holding on to blind ambiton,
I-we, have followed you here.
Nothing promised in this cool dark night yet our footsteps are one. Marching loudly into the bursting warmth of daylight. I dare not speak to my neighbors who look on just as scared as me.
Hoping to touch solid ground, we have lemminged towards the worlds edge. Taking science over heart, words over faith, decomposition of flesh over a higher cause.
My soul cries out!
Believing that we live without purpose, substance.
Jump, is the cry heard above this blaring silence. It echoes back through us and it begans. No one claims shouting it out, lead by what might have been heard by one of us, a multitude follows that empty shroud over the edge.
Still , there in the middle one stops to look around. Reaches arms out and halts those behind.
Open your eyes, none of this….
I am sin, so please resist the temptation to follow me. I am like cool gin calling your lips at the end of a troubled day, addicting and easy to get lost in. Please don’t pick up my chilled cup and let me fill you with my false relief.
I have listened to your trembling heart, your turbulent soul search for absolution in clear nights. Take heed my advice because my tempur pedic comfort masks the fact that I am not paying attention.
We have argued in the street, brought lightning from the sky. Woke sleeping neighbors and called out the devil in you an me. Then ended it all with false apologies to appease you worrying mind so disregard my tears, they cover up my still raging anger.
Change….change comes through work, from want. So open your Palms and surrender to my rain, my warm breeze dancing upon your searing skin. Take in my Aloe an honey, let me heal you from within.
Baptize with me and be not the same anymore, we are better then our mistakes. Our cracked pavement is superficial, the real strength comes from our roots dug deep in the soil of faith.
For without you, without me…without fight an trials an fears. There is no Love, no hope…no we.
And We are everything to me.