green.

i used to call him my yellow and blue
because when i combined the brightness of his mind
when the coolness of his body
it made men green with envy
every quality i had ever looked for
he had plenty
alone like a damsel in distress
he found me
and we quickly
became the epitome
of what a love jones was meant to be

we were infallible
we were compatible
and we were drawn together like bees to honey
like pimps to money
like comedians to funny
like a dunce cap to a dummy
and together
we climbed an eternal ladder towards bliss

his kiss:
made me breathless
his touch:
made me restless
his love:
was so effortless
that he seemed to mock a perfectionist
but that was just him

he made love to my body until i was limping
he words became eargasms
as i became addicted to listening
his comfort was a cloak of warmth that i was permitting
to engulf me

because if his love was flames
then i wanted to burn
and if his love was a teacher
i was eager to learn
if his love was a star
i wanted to be a constellation
and if his love was hurricane
then bring on the devastation
cause like a linear equation
we combined like terms
and the sum of us was a straight path
with no curves or turns

but i digress
because in the midst of our content
these words i did not express

i guarded my heart with brick walls
and cement doors
and i hid my true feelings between steel ceilings
and titanium floors

and for 12 whole months
he tried to fit his way in
and even tho i adored him
part of me was not up for confessing
and as 12 months became 24
we have gone on and parted ways
and now i wonder if he counts the months
the way i have begun to count the days

because the tables
have been turned
my lesson
has been learned
and now
i am forced to walk in his shoes

but with every ounce of my being
if i ever saw him again
i’d never hesitate to say

i’m in love with you.

innocence.

I don’t watch the news while he's awake. For fear that the prevalent disarray in this world will seep into the hollow spaces of his thoughts and cloud his innocent judgment. It saddens me. That although, at this stage in his life, he is carefree, he will one day have to come to terms with the fact that the world outside of my arms is not welcoming him into its own.

Right now, I'm content with the fact the he isn't knowledgeable in the areas of racism, sexism, discrimination, and prejudice. He’s unaware that his abundance of melanin as beautiful as it is, will one day force him to work twice as hard as his paler counterparts, and that the stereotypes he’ll face as a black man in a sea of hate will attempt to bog him down, keep him down, and annihilate him with vengeance. He’s oblivious to the fact that not everyone he will encounter in his life will have his best interest at heart. He’s numb to the pain he’ll experience from the knives positioned in his spine by those who once befriended him. He has no sense of betrayal. He doesn’t know that as quickly as someone asks about his day, they’ll turn the corner, and pray for his demise. He doesn’t have to face the fact that he’ll only be home-schooled because the safe haven that was once a classroom is continuously corrupted again and again and again. He has no clue that the woman he views as his mother, as the epitome of grace from which an abundance of love will always flow, is viewed by some as nothing but a nappy-headed hoe, a gold-digging bitch, or a welfare queen doomed to milk the government of it’s so called…riches.

At this stage of his life, he fears one thing: that I will leave him. In the dead of night, as he lays beside me, and I am awaken by own screaming thoughts, I rise from my bed for my nightly dose of online intoxication, but within minutes I hear the faintest sound: a voice, trembling in fear, and eager for an answer. “Mama...mama?" As though he senses that the beat of my heart is no longer aside his, he awakens from his slumber alone and troubled. I return to our room to find him sitting up, in an abyss of black, arms wide open, eagerly anticipating my return. I lie beside him and wrap my arms around, and as though he was never awoken, he is back asleep. He wraps his arms around me, the best he can, and in that moment, I have achieved the ultimate feat once more: I have preserved his innocence yet again.

deadbeat.

it is with immaculate precision
that i have made the decision
to no longer allow you
to lay eyes on the being
that i have raised from birth

you are unable
unstable
and incapable
of ever formulating the emotions
needed to realize our son’s worth
and if i could ejaculate your sperm
until it ran dry
i’d bottle your liquid children
so they’d never have to cry
i’d harvest your seeds in glass containers
til they crusted over
and there was never a remainder
of the bullet that shot eggs
and left them abandoned
without a male counterpart
and a fatherly companion
i would flush them down the toilet
in a swift and murderous mission
so they’d no longer lay awake at night
crying and praying and wishing
to see ya face again
so they’d never stumble upon your picture
and wonder
“why isn’t daddy my friend?”
if i could suck all of your nut
and pretend to swallow it whole
i’d then spit it into space
and pray that it collapsed into a black hole
i’d vomit it onto a canvas
and paint a picture of fatherhood gone wrong
then hang it in a hall of fame for:
“MEN YOU SHOULD IGNORE WHENEVER THEY HAVE A HARD ON”
so now…
it is with immaculate precision
that i have made the decision
to no longer allow you in our son’s line of vision
cuz he is one of the lonesome ones
constantly crying
constantly praying
constantly wishing for you,
his father,
who is constantly dismissing him.

greek.

i remember when men had to beat each not for pride or glory
but to to see another day with the master they were abhorring
only to then be whipped by their overseer
in attempts to make him a better man
til the blood ran cold
and fell from his hands
and when he fell to his knees
it was not at his own submission
but because he was weak with defeat
and even had to ask permission
to die

yet today’s men
proudly beat each other
to bring meaning to their lives
til their backs are cracked
and their skin turns blue
til they regurgitate from the agony
and collapse from the abuse
til they cry from the torture
yet refuse to beg for it to stop
all to be made a man
or to be seen as a rock

they bend their knees
and bend their might
they bruise their backs
and some even lose their lives
all for this right of passage
all for the glory
without realizing that they could be the latest front page story
of hazing gone wrong
and overuse of power gone bad
of rituals gone awry
and lives that have past
because history has taught them nothing
but to repeatedly tear down their brother
and convince him that in his pain and his suffering
he will one day adversely affect the life of another

BUT HE WON’T.

still they claim to be martyrs of our time
and service our community
but when their union is stemmed from persecution
there is no common unity
they are a disservice to our society
cause their woeful tactics are like a plague
internally corrupting minds
and externally showing a masquerade
of mass proportions
like an ill-fitted fetus
these outdated practices are in need of an abortion.

when their union is stemmed from persecution
how can they possible carry out their duties
cause there is no service to our community
when their organization is based on cruelty

claiming to be alphas and omegas
and other titles of the latter
they have failed to realize
that there is only one alpha and omega that matters

so I cry
and I plead
and I pray for their minds:

GOD show them your way
cause in the darkness they are blind
guide them to your path
and resurrect their minds
feed them your spirit
and your body of bread and wine
cast them out of the past
and bring them here to our time

show them their wrong doing
and the error of their ways
because without you
they have formulated themselves
to be nothing but modern day slaves.

AMEN.

its on the tip of my tongue

and the sound of your voice
the look of your texts
the feeling i get when i see you
evokes it
im trying to hide it
and fight it
but internally im wondering how much longer i can deny it
its how i feel
its hard to say but not so hard to describe
its easy to feel, yet hard to subside
i cant get rid of it
and as time elapses
my courage relapses
and i am unable to speak what needs to be said
my heart
my being
the essence of me
that was once surrounded by positivity
is dead.

because you are toxic
you breathe my air
and release it back as poison
killing me with every word you say
every action you take
and every heinous display
of your ill being
it is only fitting that my
train of thought has been wrecked because of you
and what used to be dreams of tranquility
are now nightmares of life without serenity
its hard to bare

its on the tip on my tongue

because you learn no lessons
yet are quick to judge
you have no morals
yet are eager to maintain a grudge
your values make no sense
your time is ill spent
all the while
im in denial
thinking...
you're not the cause of it
but you are
and thus far i have played your game
never casting towards you the blame
of things gone wrong
but now

its on the tip of my tongue

and now it exhales through the tips of my hands
its soothes because now it is i chooses to reprimand YOU
I LOATHE YOU
i loathe your vile, foul, nature
and your futile behaviors
i loathe your denial of your sins
as though you are an infallible creation
my intense hostility
has boiled, bubbled, and brewed itself to a potent consitency within me
I HATE YOU
i exclaim these truths with the passion of hot summer nights
with the fury of a hungry lion's plight
i am ravenous towards this truthfulness
oh how my disdain for you
has remain secluded for so long
like a caged bird alone in a forest
singing a lone song of redemption
and with these words
i am redeemed
i am esteemed
like a monarch looking out on his trusted regime
i have been vindicated
and like a thief in the night
i have stolen back my joy
i have robbed you of my light
because my positive aura
you had absorbed
the goal is finished
i am tired and worn
but my spirit is no longer diminised

i have won
because through the tips of my hands
i have released the words
on the tip of my tongue.

There is something very...disconcerting to me about adults who do not take care of their business. Something...annoying, yet alarming about people who dismiss their responsibilities and run from their problems.

I dont get it.

As a single mother/college student/software developer, I tend to have a different set of responsibilites of most people my age, yet and still, almost everyone has some sort of responsibilty, and throughout it all...I am still surrounded by those suffering from what I like to call:

"THE SLACKER SYNDROME"

• People who know finals are coming up, but wait til the last minute to bum the review off someone else


• People who claim they are seeking independence yet refuse to save money because they live in the mall
• People who constantly get STD's, refuse to use condoms, and then use their bodies as lethal weapons
• People who sit home and watch TV all day yet complain about being broke and uneducated
• People who know they only have enough gas to get to work but drive around downtown club hoppin and then depend on others for monetary assistance
• Peoplewho register and attend classses just long enough to receive refund checks

Sorry. That just got personal. But I dont understand. What train of thought does a person have to truly have to be so...SLACKERISH, for lack of a better term of course? And to make matters worse, I see this the most in MY people.

BLACK PEOPLE.

And no, its not because I'm only surrounded by black people, but its the truth. Its almost like, some people consider running from a problem the same thing as dealing with it. Or relying on someone else to handle it, is the same thing as solving it. *sigh* Its just saddening. Because there is no way I could no I have things to take care of, yet, choose to concern myself with other, unimportant, trivial matters.

And it seems to me, that these slackers make up a multitude of people suffering from another ailment I have noticed lately:

"The Complainer Curse"

(I'm sorry. This is getting more personal that I initially intended, but I'm just frustrated. People like this are endowed with toxicity and for the life of me, I dont understand how my people went from being the hands, feet, blood, and backs of this country to the ones now sitting, waiting, and wandering around...for a handout. I just want me people to...WAKE UP!!!!!!!)

Although the issues I stated are miniscule amongst the larger scheme of things, they are the formulation of a horrid habit!!!!

What is to become of my generation if not enough of us have the drive and initiative to actually do enough with our lives to contribute to society? Have we not yet grasped the concept that has been engrained into our heads since elementary days...WE ARE THE FUTURE! Yet if the present is indicative of the days to come, the future is undoubtedly grim. How long are some of us going to sit around and watch while everyone else does all the work? While everyone else becomes intelligent, independent, and steadfast in their ventures...what is to become of the multitude of those of us who do not?

Swine Flu is not the pandemic dear friends: SLACKERS ARE.