Word Around Town

"When you are in trouble, people who call to sympathize are really looking for the particulars." ~Edgar Watson Howe

I never really trusted the word around town
Because if its heard around town
From a little bird around town
It’s likely the information isn’t sound.
And that’s hard to tell because word travels so fast
So and so is this and
So and so is that
Putting all their business on blast.
It’s cool until it happens to you,
You pout for a day or two.
Vow to never succumb to the gossip
Because at the end of the day no one profits.
Just broken hearts and reputations,
“It’s no one’s business, when or with whom I had relations.”
But when the hurt fades,
And the jilt of your slandered name goes away,
Its back to the basics, like you never changed.
A wise man once said,
“What you don’t witness with your eyes,
Don’t witness with your mouth.”
But of course, that’s just the word around town.

Caroline (Unifinished)

I never knew her name I'll call her Caroline,
Super fine she took the same route as mine.
I'd catch myself day dreaming until the sun set.
Night fall dreaming about when I may see her next.
She caught the early train once or twice a week,
I'd wonder if she was leaving her man's place up the street.
Or did she go to work early because she's ambitious,
Fighting for that promotion,
Making her quota,
Or maybe her schedule switches.
I worked up the courage to approach, I even said a prayer,
But inevitably the train would open and she's not there.
We exchanged a subtle glance and a smile once in a while.
Her demeanor was hard to read,
I sensed a sadness.
Her head hung lower and lower, no more glances.
Looking out of her window,
Dark clothes, dark glasses.
It's been a long time since I've seen Caroline.
She no longer takes the same route as mine.

Aloof

I'm right here and I'm living what I feel,
But I'm not feeling how I'm living
Which is creating some resentment.
No need for patting on the back,
Like the burping of an infant.
I wouldn't expect you to mend it.
My heart is resilient.
It was fine before you came,
Now that you're gone it's the same.
And if what was said brings guilt,
A little shame and some pain
Then whether my words were meant for you or another,
It's all the same
Because what is written can be used and misconstrued
Depending on ones perception.
Maybe you read between the lines because of your own reflection.

Today was like the last three
Alarm clock ringing like a phone with bad news on the other end
Starting another day without a good morning text
No mid-afternoon call to solidify evening plans
No fights that leave me restless in the a.m.
Im sorry texts that lift the weight off my shoulders
After fights that kiss that feels like the first
Except we've had time to rehearse
And we both knew this day would come
parted by death do us
Or realization that love isn't enough
So the last fight, our final dress rehearsal
No make up kiss
Only goodbyes and painfully sweet memories
Alarm clock still ringing
Like a call with bad news on the other end
Starting another day with no neck kisses
No hope of laying on your chest while we daydream and pretend to watch the tv set
Once I press alarm off
Its on to another cold day.
I wish it would rain.

Vessel

I fed from the Word, and it made me strong, but told me how weak I was. I fed from the world, and it made me dizzy, drunk from pleasure, and told me how strong I was, but I was weak. I heard the voices calling me from inside the righteous places, but I ignored them, I was in frenzy from the hustle and bustle of the sidewinders, thieves and miscreants, I got my strength from them, they fed me slow poison that tasted good and looked good, but sewed nothing. Gave me trinkets and toys, that all the world envied, but they were cheap, and made me feel the same. I took from the world because I thought it owed me, I shunned what God provided because I knew I wasn’t worthy, I stole from God because he had it all, and gave into the world because I needed its approval. I toasted to good times, and relished in them, but despised the trying times, which set me up from the greatest gifts I could ever imagine. I stared in the face of evil, and embraced it like a wayward brother I longed to see. Impressed upon my life I fell into trap after trap, because they all had different bells and whistles, but in the spirit, if I dwelled there I would see they were all the same. Lies.

I stood and watched, as my soul took beating after beating. I smiled, like the misguided vessel I was, with no room to grow, it seems, but God sought differently, he plucked my being until I listened, miles in the sky, what better place. He gave me vision to write, even when my eyes do not grace the paper. The Gospel, now gives me the inspiration, take hold of my fingers Dear Heavenly Father, that Your Word shall be seen in this text. Gear me towards those things you would have for my life, and give me the wherewithal and strength to endure forever more….AMEN.

EYES

This is an old poem I wrote a while ago. It was posted at one point in time, but I took it down to put in a book I never finished writing. Ran accross it and decided to post it.

EYES

I caught the eye of one who's lost
Let me take your hand
Take you to a place we both long to go
I caught a glimpse of my place
In your eyes
I believe you saw it in mine
Not a word spoken
The type of silence broken
Only by the ruffle of your body shifting
Closer to mine
My tears weld
While yours rolled down your face
We both imagined that place
And if it truly were the same
We'd soon go together.
How your imperfections seem perfectly placed
Reflection of my needs
So perfectly misplaced
In you.
These moments spent closely in tuned
To you.
Where does the time go?
I'd spend it all
For you.
Through our troubled times
The origin of your tears reflected
More then words could tell.
This bitter sweet silence as we lay
Even these sad times, I'd rather spend
With you.
Let me take your hand
As long as you'll have me
I'll wipe your tears
And live to keep them away.
I saw the place we both long to go
And mine, in the reflection of your eyes.
I believe you saw it in mine.

Lost Love

She was a love I lost and regret
Awkward hugs every 12 months
A chance meeting that reminds me
So for a week or so that same chance meeting confines me
In and out of the past
Time traveler
She’s my catalyst, my mind unraveler
Her inner beauty surpassed by none
An outer glow that stuns
The average man.
But me, it stings like vaccinations
As a youngin I thought our brief affair was infatuation
Maybe I’m living in the past
And if I had more to grasp
Than these chance meetings
Then I would see
We were never meant to be
But until then
For a week or so after our chance meetings
I play over and over in my head my initial greeting
And wish she could greet me for the rest of my days.
And until this feeling fades,
I’m here.
Thinking of a love I lost and regret.

Fleeting (Unfinished)

I swore I’d never love again.
Too many battle scars
Lessons learned, too many burns
I’m beginning to think the lesson taught is don’t try it
Is love the forbidden apple?
Don’t bite it.
Have we created a world that touches too many senses
We skip the roses
Only thing that could hurt us are its thorns
Now we don’t have to stop and smell anything
Its in our palms
They stop and sell it all
As much as your rumbling belly can endure
Only thing that could hurt is our soul.
We rally to reduce the carbon footprints in our valleys
But the pollution that needs reducing is the lack of love we’re producing.
And I don’t mean lust.
We skip on love because lust won’t hurt unless you catch feelings.
So it’s no strings attached until we use
Love and other drugs,
And love isn’t a drug, so that’s the problem with the title.
What’s the problem with a title?
The idea of love seems to be a fleeting mystery.
Cheating between the misery.
Finding something more real with the mistress.
She becomes the new lady with the fleeting title.
Rewind. Repeat.
Now the new lady is cutting eyes at the old lady
At the youngest baby's recital.
While the memories of her 2nd grade rendition of Fiddler on the Roof
Turns to her trying to outdo
The fact she got to have two moms and two dads growing up.
Every Holiday, two sets of presents showing up.
The more the merry.
So the more she'll marry.
Rewind. Repeat.

Conduction

Sweet and mild kisses
She likes the softness.
It is far from her old life.
His presence makes the pain fade.
She pictures him when he’s not there.
When days get bad, she beckons him.
Bittersweet, she tries not to be mean,
But the demons break through her calm.
She prays to control it, she needs him.
He knows, and understands.
He thinks he’s enough to make her forget,
Resenting that he’s not.
When he leaves the clock stops.
When he comes it seems to make up the time it lost.
She needs him,
But the demons keep breaking through her calm.
She resents them all.
He resents he can’t pick her up.
She resents the fall.
He resents the fall.
Now he begins to resent the calm.
“You can’t control it,” he says.
“Am I not enough to make you change?”
She replies, “I’m trying, it takes time to release this pain.”
He leaves, and the clock stops.
Returns, but the time moves slower.
She feels his presence no longer calms the way it did.
She grows stronger.
He now feels the demons breaking through his calm.

Things Fall Apart

Things fall apart
In other words, things change
No matter the city or town
The mounds of nouns we accumulate
In these rounds we call life,
Change.
These nouns that make up our life.
Defined as person, place or thing.
The answer to Who? What? Where?
And sometimes, Why?
The questions of life,
Answered by these mounds of nouns we accumulate.
That define us, mold us, make us, break us.
Because things fall apart.
From the Roots.
In other words things change.
As quick as the sun turns to rain,
And back again.
People change.
Places change.
Things change.
As they fall apart.
Not in the literal always.
Our notions, our history, our perceptions
Create a landscape sculpted from the nouns in our lives.
In other words,
Our notions, our history, our perceptions like sculpting knives,
Carving the lenses in which we see our nouns.
So when change comes, our old notions fall apart.
Rescuplting those lenses from which we see the world.
Things fall apart.

Playing With Your Emotions

Poets are just artists who can’t sing.
Putting an emotion to music strikes a cord.
A, C, E Flat.
Melodies and words mix from tears and lonely nights.
Hurt feelings and broken hearts ring the loudest.
Love gained and lost rolls off the page into sound.
From sound to writings on the wall.
Like a child’s height markings on the door.
The first three cords of a song take you back.
When you were only yay big, emotionally.
Those first three words remind you of those scars,
That only seem to ache when it rains.
Or when night turns to dawn,
When you’re tired, but can’t seem to sleep
Only yawn.
Nostalgia.
Like spring cleaning and running across an old mix CD.
When you know the randomness of the songs made sense to you at that very moment.
And as you listen you regain your mindset and think back.
I wish I was not a poet and could sing.
I would try to capture your emotions in every song.
Creating a memory,
Or reminding you of one you’ve tucked away.
Playing the human experience like you felt it.
Giving you the words you’ve felt,
But never expressed.
Like a lost love,
You would forget.
But on a night like tonight,
You would hum the tune,
And relive the first moment you heard me play your emotions.

Untitled

I never knew we would be this cold
Met in warm weather
Warm kisses in May and June
Turned to cold Eskimo kissing in warm sweaters
Been here to see the seasons change
Left time and time again
Cold nights after cold-hearted fights
I would sit in the car, fall asleep
Only awaken to the morning light.
It’s warm again.
The thrill is on again
Walking hand in hand
Cold kisses from cold ice cream parlor visits
It’s like your heart warmed up,
And mine got cold.
Things got better
I felt the cold was missing
We faced the storm, but not together.
Revenge is a dish best served cold
And that’s how we served it.
Getting back at me for mistrust in you,
Me getting back at you for giving up on you
Cold decisions you made in the past
Never envisioning we’d cross paths
Hot-tempered and cold-hearted
Work together to drive a wedge
Not so dearly departed.
A cold disdain,
Hot-blooded passion.
Met in warmer days
Hot and cold until we parted.

Would we listen?

Who will witness?
Be a testimony to the twisted and the lonely,
When the night falls
The night crawls
Children crying, “Who will hold me”
Prophesy of destruction
Never bliss and better days.
Would we listen?
And see through the hateful haze.
Or accept it?
Perpetuate that we’re in the last days
Would you mention?
Never flinching, implementing a new craze.
Where good news is reported and never distorted.
Who will witness?
Step forward.
Would we listen?

A.B.M.

I wish I had the guts and spewed dope
Like Gil Scott Heroine
So I could show you the gap is narrowing
Between a land of the free and the brave
To the grossly uneducated, poor and misbehaved.
The skin-heads no longer shave,
They earmark, lobby and lynch the masses unscathed.
1 if by land
2 if by sea
3 if bipartisanism
4 if by bureaucracy
Now coming from a man in 2011
Speak of change sounds of conspiracy theories
And angry black man speaking of proverbial chains
But despite how its spun,
The truth still remains
The truth still remains.
Our only identity is that we have none
Rooted in a buck, who's value is declining
Our values a muck.

Spectrum

Ambition and contentment
Joy and resentment
Full pockets and a little lent
War rockets and bricks of cement
Opposite ends of the spectrum
Connected by the in betweens
Those with or without means
We all think of these things
Living them
Or seeing them in our dreams
Poor man dreams of riches
Rich man dreams of ditches
Both dream of the other’s world
To Richman a nightmare
To Poorman a fairytale

Where I am

When I was young
I was in a rush to make a fuss
And at times it got my bell rung
Now I’m like hush.
And its not I like slowed down to hear the birds chirp.
I don’t stop and smell roses
Only chirp I hear is my text alert.
Seems like all I want is a pocket full of posies.
Ashes, ashes we all fall down.
Enthralled in a text.
Got me swerving
Almost involved in a wreck.
On the way to a paycheck.
Coming from a paycheck.
To pay for a life that seems
To be moving at break neck speeds.
I lived for the next step.
I know my friends think I’m all over the place.
I took some time off the race.
Got lazy, but never complacent.
You think I think in tangents
I’m just trying to be adjacent
To the things I believe that will make my lot in life stronger.
I’d be profoundly content on living the simple life
Grow food, hunt meat, live where I can sleep under the stars
And not rely on Google Sky Maps to point to where they are.
But this is where I stand,
And lay.
This is where I walk
And stumble.
This is where I talk proudly
And mumble.
This is where I am.
This is where I am.

Highway to Mars

The square and boring lead lives of monotony with no meaning,
Snicker and laugh at the dreamers demeanor so demeaning.
Leading down a roadway,
A path.
So traveled straight-laced and unbraced with no feeling.
Id be a fool to say all dream with no action is the road you must travel,
But living with no dreaming can make the mind unravel.
A dream reflects hope,
Hope drives ambition
Ambition leads to fruition.
Those who do great things often take the road less traveled,
Otherwise greatness would be the norm.
Along the embankment lies discarded plans,
Good intentions and rough sketches of new inventions.
The path...the road...this highway,
Is about the scars, the setbacks, the tears.
But forever within our sights.
So sit high on your horse,
Belittle my dreams because they're not what yours are.
And watch as I fade in the distance on my Highway to Mars.