Rough One

 I failed as a parent tonight.

I have to let shit slide for the greater good.

I wasn’t a dad.  I was a bully.

He has a strong will.  I have to be better about persuading him.  I don’t want him to develop Daddy issues.

Is This It?

 Rough patch

"What a match!"

Avoiding me constantly 

Can't shake this, feel like I got a flea

Love my kids

But I hate this home

No control

Constant guilt

Even when I live in filth

Stay and fight

Or turn out the lights

Am I happy

Or faking it

I don't know

When to quit

Nobody listens to me

I can't rely 

And I always hear

"I'm sorry for"

I truly feel

She doesn't care about me

And alone is what she wants to be. 

No presence during coitus

Just the vibe

"Let's get this over with."

I'm always tired

I can't help it

I can't go to her for emotional support 

Forget

 Drink to forget, 

Or forget to drink?

I can’t recall

C’mon, man, think

Which Q came first,

Which Q precedes?

Hold it up, in a cup 

Take a sip and think.

Do I love you

Or do I love pain?

The only strife in life 

Where tears remain

Have one last sip 

And Down I’ll sink

Into my thoughts 

All the battles 

That I’ve fought

Do I need you in my life,

Or am I stronger without

Like time that lingers on

Filled with sorrow and doubt?

Sippin into darkness, 

oh woe, ol boy 

Slow descent

Must repent 

This love runs deep.

Cheerful?

 I feel…

Crippled by life

Am I doing wrong?

Am I doing right?

Shackled by bonds

Of dutiful might

Without control

Without light

My bones growing old 

And so numb to the cold

I feel

I have lost

All ability

To feel.

Powerless

Without choice

Without a rudder

Drifting into the sea

Of what used to be

Limitless possibilities.

I let the current take me 

To depths of the mind unknown

To my self of before

Who am I now 

matters not 

But who I want to be 

Remains a mystery…

Or not.

It’s suddenly so clear, and it came almost effortlessly.

A father J and P can admire

A soul who weathered the icy fire

A man reborn with resolve

Who crawled through the muck and mire.

A hubby for A-

A strong partner of silence 

A man without absence

Ears never tired.

This route consists of a few last hurdles

Cut the route

Family time

Good news is

I see the finish line

I don’t want them to hate me

I want to guide them 

Be there for them

In good times and bad

But I don’t want to be that guy 

Who’s always coming down on them.

I used to be so happy.  Naturally.  Organically.  I still can be. I will not stop, and I will be.  One step at a time. 

Shiver

 I shiver at your touch

Adrift in a sea 

Of distant memory.

It sounds like too much

But I cannot believe

How swiftly I retreat

Like a turtle into its shell

I’m scared of what will become

Of the heart’s evolution

As we revolve around the sun.

As we float on

This shabby raft of destiny

I know how fine we’ll be.

Four bobbing souls of gold

Intertwined at the seams

We’ll find security 

Like a turtle into its shell

Aware of what will become

Of the heart’s evolution

As we revolve around the sun.

Over

 I’m over it.

Downhill from here , ol chum

Cold

 I want to 

Be comforted

And consoled

But for some reason 

You’re so cold.

As I age

And see my light fade

I look to you

But you’re so cold.

When The timing’s right

To heat up the night

I must ask

But you’re so cold.

What I want

What I need

Inflict more pain

After the deed

I can’t align

With your vibes 

And sadness grows

Evermore each day.

The rift began

So slowly

But soon strikes

In ways swift.

I hate asking

So emasculating

To beg, plead, and coerce but

 be turned away.

I feel numb

To your touch

Because you’re so cold

But it hurts more every time.

Patter

 The pitter patter of little feet

Searching to and fro

For something yummy to eat

When they are gone

How I miss them so

Without them

I wouldn’t know where to go.

Elianna

 Love overflows, so gold,  like a rolling ray of sunshine. so divine kissing dew who knew how weak but so strong love can be, righting wrongs, composing songs, it’s magical.  This babe so sweet like a marshmallow treat, I’m in love.  Congrats and her I can’t wait to meet!

Car Chase

 I’ll tell you about one of the wildest PG-rating days I’ve ever seen. I used to carry in the projects in Richmond, Virginia, 23223.  It was a light day so I was out there early.  At 08:45 am, I was into my first relay when I first heard coming my way Detroit muscle revving followed by distant sirens, thinking ‘Oh, boy.  This oughta be good.’ I then saw two cop cars chasing a white Charger, and they were flying!  I kept going and caught up with Mrs. Williams, who had been living there for five decades, about an hour later.  She told me, “Them boys gonna hear it from me for waking me up.  A girl needs her beauty sleep.”  She had me cracking up.

Addict

 I am an addict

But 

Aren’t we all

From the drinks 

to the attention

We’re all bound to fall

Life is what life brings

With flowers so sweet

And days so searing

We’ll do all we can

To achieve chemicals 

So the heart sings

I struggle with drink

And chewy plant

I once thought,

‘I’ll sub drink with herb,’

But found myself 

In a ménage a trois

So seductive

So alluring

I can stop

Said every addict

Until it was too late

But knowledge glows

Only from the throes

Of pain and life aligned

So

Here we are

Just another day

In my life

When I think

There’s gotta be another way

I’ll quit 

The downers and uppers

The alcohol and the caffeine

Everything that brings joy

And everything in between 

To build a stronger life

One with wisdom

Acquired from strife

To be a better model 

For J and P.

Tomorrow begins day one.

No caffeine, no booze, no herb

Wish me luck

Those Who Were There

 Personally

I believe in ghosts.

I feel that

Everybody on this planet

We’re all surrounded by ghosts.

Those who are there

To protect us

Those who were there

To warn us

Or those who where there 

to possibly  attack us.

And all these ghosts

Have been driven

By their own decisions

While they were 

In their past lives.

But in their death

They wanna see

The mission accomplished 

So to speak

They want to see 

the end goals

Of their actions

While they were living

So they pursue

 a lifetime through

The sons and daughters

In our society.

Saturday Night

 There’s a hole 

In my chest

The size of a cavern

A chasm 

growing wider

And I suspect

There’s a pattern

Of plying vice upon ice

And hoping for an end

To the misery that lies within

It consumes

Like most do

When alone

Amongst ones demons

A battle surges 

To reclaim my soul

Or at the very least

The woeful return 

of my weathered happiness 

“Put another one away”

Tempting fate

But alas

I wake up

Each morning 

Wondering

When will it be my last?

I’ve seen my Death

And this way ain’t it

But until then 

I’ll keep stomaching it

Truth

Your mind wants it

But your ears and heart don’t 

For friends will stand by you 

Sometimes, they just won’t

Not only parts your lips

But also shuts them so tight

Puts babes to rest

But keeps you up all night

It changes form

The wasp of life

It can wound so deep

But also set you free

Choose its paths wisely 

 And take care of its destiny

Guard it tight

And don’t regret

Always forgive

But never forget.

Hero?

 Am I a hero?

I have flaws 

I won’t deny

That at times

I’m the best

At making myself cry.

Am I a hero?

I will admit

Although I suffer

I show up

When every

body else quits.

I’m no hero

I understand 

But I always

Do the best that I can.

I’ve spilled beads of sweat,

Drops of tears,

Enough of my blood

To fill most hearts with fear.

Maybe not, 

Now that I 

think of it,

Is their glory 

for a fool 

who can’t quit?

Am I wasting my talents

By not chasing the fame

Or am I doing 

what needs to be done 

as I walk alone

The only one

To choose the path 

Of the whistlin’ mailman?

Nah, I’m no hero.

Just doing my job

Just another day

Gotta keep moving

Cuz the job’s not done.

Time

 I feel like 

Such a bumbling

Fumbling fool

Who jumbles and juggles

Phrords and waises 

No

Words and phrases

When tired am I

And  annoyed me be

So frustrated at times

To explain this feird weeling

No

Weird feeling

So tired all the time

Can’t abide by 

chimes of pressure

It’s beyond defeating 

Silence works best for me

To formulate ideas more eloquently 

No wonder nobody listens to the unintended hypocrisy 

Why Bother

Ask a question 

No response 

Offer a solution

No action

Wayward winds blowing in wanton ways

Stay in for the long haul with no looks and no praise

Ask a question

No response

Offer a solution 

No action

Stifled silence slowly snuffs out the internal flame

What remains are the smoky ashes of insolent blame

Ask a question

No response 

Offer a solution

No action

Leaky roof

 I don’t know what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours.

I’m not even going to begin to understand.

As the days go on and nights turns into days

I’m starting to grasp that you’re as dramatic as I am.

In Depends Day

 Like some Americans, I’m conflicted.  On one hand, I celebrate independence from The Conqueror.  On the other hand, as much as I hate playing the victim, I can’t escape feeling conquered.  Mass shootings every day, must deliver baby cuz ain’t no other way, still illegal to be brown, but put on a smiley face and don’t frown. 

We went to the beach yesterday, and the townies had a grand parade, lots of blondies wearing their red, white and blues, already drunk way before noon, I kept hearing “Everyone’s American today,” yeah, right, only if you’re fair-skinned with nothing to say.  I was terrified as I walked with my family, through the crowds of the privileged and the plenty, people just standing in the way, forcing me to yell, “Excuse me!” Awaiting conflict, and praying for safe passage, we made our way back to our parking space.

Today was founded with a barrage of bombardment, as we let The Conquerors know the business we meant, for freedom only rings with violence and commitment, and Heaven knows the time we’ve spent, waiting for change that was supposed to come, awaiting the day of Freedom for everyone.

I’m not holding my breath, sadly, I’ve been prepared for Death, that any day could be my last, say the wrong thing and at last, I see a blast.  Everyone’s scared to get their ass whooped, so they hold the piece unsteady, begging for the wrong look.

Weird times, we’re living in, is it naive or is it sin? To wait for freedom in the land we’re living in, I can’t complain because pretty pretty I’m sitting.  I treat all with kindness, but I know it’s rare, to live in a country whose sole purpose is to scare.

I keep my head up, for I know this shall pass, and soon we’ll return to kindness en masse, but for now I’m vigilant as I always have been, to welcome the change that I know is coming.

These fireworks have been going on for three days now.  Cheese and rice, I can’t wait for tomorrow.

Nuts

 Ooh la la

Ooh La la

Once again 

At a bar

Hula music

Don’t confuse it

For a romp

At the mall

Rue Vie Wait

 (Rue)

I abhor that 

insecure men 

afflicted with micro-dicks

hate women so much 

they govern their body and kin

with micro-pen that pierces skin

just to violate generations of souls

while “righteous” hypocrisy

acts like bare feet on blazing coals, 

and wounds so capriciously.

(Vie)

The way

that lies of freedom and liberty

Is lost

So callow 

So shallow

Like new biting frost

In the morn 

Of a brave new sunlight.

“Prepare the shackles!”

“Bind their delicate wrists!” 

their echoes shriek as 

they salivate 

upon this day of execution.

They strive to seal the fates

Of innumerable women

Both born and unborn

For decades to come.

Shame on them, 

and they I condemn, 

for picking a fight 

that was already won.

(Wait)

Hell hath no fury…

I eagerly await the day

to hand out matches for

It’s their damn right…

I’ll stand by as 

The flames ignite through the night.

If puerile fans clown around 

and burn a town down

because their sports ball team 

had outdone the other, 

I’m perfectly fine with 

having a new Ladies Night

where the girls, 

after the last straw, 

make it a point to instill fright.

As a father 

in awe of a daughter, 

and the son of 

another incredible mother, 

the lucky brother of a powerful sister, 

and a proud husband of an unstoppable mother, 

I’m outraged and repulsed to be associated 

with the nincompoops and 

beleaguered, feeble old men 

who proclaim to be “family men.”  

Spare me the insult to my intelligence 

that this could be anything but 

a boot of strangulation to the throat 

of every expectant mother.

To force a young victim, 

To live day to day

With the ravages of rape

until delivery day,

And carry the child

Within her

Then every day on her body

Until babe becomes man.

Damning that woman for twenty years

TWENTY YEARS

for the falsities of

Pro life

Gimme a break

They hate women

Pure and simple

And deserve to be castrated, 

for it’s not a burden of man but

One for a woman to bear

And she’ll crush it I’m sure

But at what costs?

To sacrifice career, health, money, freedom, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness…

Shame on you, SCOTUS, shame on you for the rest of your days. You’ve lost all integrity, in every single way.

Theocracy and corruption are the new norm, goodbye facts, farewell, spine, i don’t give a damn about anybody’s hide but mine.

Grateful

 We’re getting older.  Every second. Every day. 

We’re acquiring knowledge in every way.  I’m grateful for the mistakes, and the infinite times I’ve said “Whatever it takes,” for bolder and badder, we rise every morning we wake.  

We’ve buried friends and fam, awoken with moments of glam, seen the depths of the soul, but we rise, with a clearer understanding of Who I Am.  

It’s always evolving, different versions of we, even though you and I remain different in memory.  I praise differences, because that’s how we grow.  

The day ones and brand new ones, the grandparents and infant sons, and daughters, handcraft ourselves into brighter suns.  The radiance blinds as we shine through the tunnels of darkness and doubt, but still, like a fine wine, we can’t get better without time.  

I’m 38, and at times, all my life, I crave escape, but I’m again grateful for every person I’ve met, because you’ve helped me achieve what I once thought impossible.  

Thank you.

GRIT

Written on May 11, 2017

 GRIT:  A sense of purpose to achieve a long-term goal

Keep at it.  All obstacles are nothing more than temporary mental blocks.  Remember what you're fighting for, and achieve success.  Nothing will stop you.  The only enemy that will prevent you from reaching the finish line is yourself.  Continue on your path, as steadily as placing one foot in front of the other, and you will succeed.

Your opponents, for example, self-doubt, envy, or pettiness, are the stage bosses of the different levels of life.  They will do all they can to defeat you, but they will fail.  You may encounter a setback or three, but persist.  Remember the prize, and grab it.  They can injure our bodies or break our bones, but they could never come close to stealing our souls.  Persist, friends, persist.

Penalty

 The sweetest time I could make,

Penalty,

Like smelling cupcakes as they bake,

Penalty,

The only reason why I come to work,

Penalty,

Is making them pay for their mistakes,

Penalty.

Hellow Yello

 C

I can pick chair hare nou

Curly mop

What a shock

"It's all coming to an end,"

Let's suspend...

Youthful exhibitions require emotional instability

The problems of few moons seem so 

magnified 

amplified

As seen through

Lens untrue

Of the divisions of time aka

Middle-aged kids

Soon adorned with

Graying blurs of

Gritty wisdom,

stoic schisms

i no knot

But eye sea

What could be

Much of nothing

And nothing to know.

Much of nothing and nothing to know

Another One

 This is why I don't take the safety talks seriously. I'm the safest MFer on the block, but my employer gives us this demonic spontaneously combustible shit then tells me to be safe. How in the everliving F does this make sense. My wife tells me about her day. She taught a great lesson, picked up the kids, made some banging tacos. How was my day? I didn't erupt in flames while sitting in the drive through of Taco Bell. I escaped another potential day of death once again. Only 59 million days to go. Wish me luck! Oofaloofa I feel better.

Steely Damn

 Tough times make tough people. 

Keep your eyes on the finish line and everything will be fine.

The cold man blows hard on my heart,  but I've got places to see. 

I'll keep my feet moving and 

won't let his hard stare deter me. 

Focus on the music,  and 

keep the body grooving. 

The fierce wind beats bruises on my chest and wraps its steely fingers around my neck. 

I have to keep going

with everlasting  power in my hands 

like a stalwart defender 

in his very last stand.

Tough times make tough people. 

Keep your eyes on the prize,  and your spirit will only rise.

Su Mani

 What does that mean?

Are you trying to kill me?

The demon.

I gotta write this down.

Thoughts.

Voices.

I gotta write this down.

Off

 I came downstairs, jubilant.  The best I've felt in a long time.  I quit coffee and booze, successfully might I add, on Dec. 30, 2021.  I felt like I was drinking steadily since 2020.  I've been tired since, with the traveling, peopling, and finally,  quarantining.  Not tired. Exhausted and on the last fumes.

I've been cuddly all day, snuggly since last night.  You asked me how I felt.  Elated, I hugged you, and then I was jolted back into the numbing reality of your resentment.

"I wish I could get a day off. Oh, wait, I can't."

Just like that, my sunny day turned dark and stormy.  The guilt I feel when I heal is unhealthy.   It makes me hold my tongue, and I can't even look you in the eye anymore because I feel guilty for merely existing.

Misery loves company, so I'm better off in my own company.  

The PO

 Although this time is stressful, and it's easier said than done, take this time to recuperate, because you're not the only one, to deal with the madness, of the local PO, who fires the willing, and only promotes the slow.  It'll take time, but chances are you'll be back with backpay.

Weak

 When I ask you for something, 

to do something, 

to not do something, 

and you ignore me, 

I feel 

physically weak 

and mentally drained.

I recall 

when people 

used to listen to me, 

when my words 

held value, 

and how much 

brighter my soul felt.

Now, 

all I feel 

is silence, 

for being silenced, 

for words 

without weight 

amongst the deaf 

and unwilling 

are futile at best 

and preposterous at worst.

These words 

are like 

plugging a rowboat 

with a drill.

These words 

are ten elephants 

balancing on 

a single beach ball.

Silence

Like there is no point in speaking

So I retreat

Because I have 

no energy to fight 

for I have been weakened.  

I've lost my spirit.  

I've forgotten my spark. 

I've dulled my light 

with this chemical dependency.

This year will be tough, but from it, I will grow.