Men's Heavyweight T-Shirt | WRITE TO MAKE IT RIGHT...PRESERVE THE KNOWLEDGE

Men's Heavyweight T-Shirt WRITE TO MAKE IT RIGHT...PRESERVE THE KNOWLEDGE

Casablanca

Casablanca

I left you a long time ago, the rain fell, people were all about, I am never one for scenes, as tom cruise…”so who is coming with me?” nevermore the many deposits I made in the memory bank that is securely placed in the back of my mind. I remember all the ways we loved…I remember all the ways we shared one another…I hold back emotion, I feel my heart ball into a fetus…that leaves me blue…everyone is witness to such a murder of a heart, I fail to resemble the man, you see in your distant dreams. Please remember…I left you a long time ago I did, I regret that day, the cinematic moment where we made our own Casablanca, I never gave her…her just due of gratitude. I still chose to leave you…now I cry, jonesin’ for love as darius and nina did. The conductor shouts out the next train out of town, my heart stops every minute closer to my departure, my stomach turns and creates a ring knot at the bottom of my belly. I am in fear of knowing I am about to make the biggest mistake of my life. My legs start to weaken, my emotions deepen taking my mind into a moonshine of how I used to twirl your hair, how we would walk and talk about nothingness that only meant something to us…I see the twilight in your eyes…tears start to fall…from my eyes…mother earth starts to sob at our moment of goodbye…( distant announcement) “ now boarding the 5:45”… whoever put the good in goodbye lied, I can’t stand to see you weep, I slowly walk up the steps of the train and with each step I can hear distant pieces of your heart breaking with resentment. As I turn around one last time to say goodbye…you reply why love why…

Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou

My pain I leave on pages, the ink I leave on pages, my tears I leave on pages, this very page is the stage in which I allow my words to perform on. I guess upon the so on and so on’s, my feelings such as these can go on for eons. The stress in which I grieve upon, I am the audacious spirit you think of. Am I really who they think I am? Do I really reek of somberness? I am your blessing as I too know why the caged bird sings. My still yet forgiving heart, I set a part a broken heart and caused the pieces to build me back up and reboot …I am what you call a refreshing, refreshing blessing. Still I rise in the eyes of the sun, still I rise to the day as a newborn , still I rise to the occasion…a deep pause…I manifest what I dare not suggest, I am a living contradiction. The nights I played the insomniac…the flaws that I see in the phenomenal woman that you portray to be. I am drowning in your years Maya; I am bathing in your tears Angelou. Your haiku’s, are as smooth as the tone you speak, the breath of fresh air that seeps my lungs. I play coy to the boy that fears growth, but The Lesson learned from the road not travelled lies in the lines in which you crossed. MAY the ANGEL in U shine through this poetic long winded haiku…we have yet to live because we are dying to survive…Maya thank you…Angel You!

My Vibe for The Night

My vibe for the night, the set of my mood, there I stood in the tracks of my tears.  Years have passed and I am stuck here on melancholy avenue, drifting down memory lane, salvaging the means behind these streets, my missions beyond the impressions of which you speak, I am at a loss of words that go beyond measures of confusion. I allowed the morning sun to raise man, the dawn to teach the moon of potential gone to soon. The circumstances in which we stand, the stance in which we take the personal fall of measure, the leisure in our approach; do we understand the circumstance that breeds ignorance?  I have learned to channel my anger; I have gained the gumption to levitate beyond courage, for courage can be the wisdom of the foolish. The ways of man can become more prevalent to the times of melee and the struggle to be humble is far more difficult than ever. My vibe for the night…

Thoughts Interlude

The he  thought of shade that blinds me…you cannot fathom the thoughts of man right now, somehow you seep through and you see the fear of secrets that I hide from you. I am suppressed from what I have yet to feel from you, the feelings, damn these feelings that I may or not have, it has to be more than what I think of you to be. These feelings I hold captive, I channel these thoughts I do and ever so clever I am embedded in the comfort of your love. The phases of man’s thoughts lie in bed with a woman who wakes up alone…

How Did We Survive

How can I survive when the pain of the wind captures my waking epiphany, could it be that I am in the midst of the coldest winter ever, or is it the hurt from the painful hail you have bestowed upon me...the contradiction of the present O'how in essence it traps me. But am I liable to be enslaved by such entity...I am indeed a slave to the sun, for it shines upon me and rests its smile on the shoulders of my worry... Therefore what is more important to be worry free or free from worry... The same difference keeps a sane mind from reaching its peak of insanity... Yes this how I survived the turbulence in my mind... The cold winter in my heart the scorching temperament of your scorn...the precipitation of my tears helps grow your tree of anguish for mistakes made...how did we survive such storm....

I Will Never Be Able to Touch Her Heart

I will never be able to touch her heart…I am sinking deep in the crevasse of her quick sand.

We withstand the Egyptian sun; we would run from all possibilities. Never could the cowardly heart

Make such inquiries to the stranger that lived in the sheets of passion. I could never imagine a

Fainted memory torn from the limbs of love. I am sinking deeper…deeper into oblivion…I wonder if she

Still taste my passion; I hope she still feels as lonely as I when the skies are ominous grey. I hope her

Hearts wings fly as high into the heavens, where the angels can hear every distant heartbeat. I will never

be able to touch her heart…it has flown far, far, far away in the dawn of morning…I pray to touch her

heart once more…for her very heart still beats for me, her love has been in me as the still beat that

revives my love for thee…her heart beats…its beats…it beats.

The Haunting

The Haunting

In the still of the night your memories haunt me, ever so daunting I am drawn to you. The time in tranquility has a mind of its own but ever so often your memory still haunts me as I lay alone.

Could it be I am just hallucinating and my only sign of life is thru my hyperventilation’s, but after relation after relation I am left, yes left where my RIGHT’S went WRONG, pondering, wondering in a frantic  pace…will your haunting, euphoric presence visit me again. Am I afraid or do I oblige to such homage of mere fear, I am all too sincere in my scarce stance, to cavalier to show that I am with feeling, too much clout for you  to figure me out in one glare…. Will you haunt me again, again, and again after, will you allow me to revisit all that I once remembered and was too scared to relive…will you bring back the fear of falling…never again.

The Eulogy for My Will

The Eulogy for My Will

According to the pulse from my heart, I am alive, but dead to the world I feel…yet…I…. I cannot feel remorse for those who waste their lives on redundant retrospect. I expect the ignorant to understand and the sane to overstand! The eulogy meant for me...I tame the thought of regret...May you allow my living testament resound longer than my dying words...may you allow my present existence be what you think of when you ponder my departure, do not concentrate solely on lost time rather than find that clock on the wall we so effortlessly overlook we took for granted...don’t profit from my demise...stay humble in my death...stay in the line of my faith...In my absence, the love that resides in the breast of you, save for me what is left of you.  Stay wise for the earth will still revolve and life will endure through its ageless progressions. The thought of being an afterthought never bothers me, but what would you think after me? Is what lies in the puddle of questions drenched in sorrowful tears. Remain the same, grow as a plant would, resemble the stem from which you came, stay wise… as wood. In the grammar of love, never plagiarize or fabricate your truth…live what you speak and speak what you live…respect all that is genuine and disregard the façade…My eulogy for my will…

The Glare of the Moon

I gathered my thoughts today as if they were yesterday’s pain, I comfort the melancholy soul that consoles me, I stare at the moon glare as it stares, how glassy eyed my vision becomes, I think backwards of yesteryear, today I felt a labor below the bellows of my womb. I rock the cradle to a tune far from the steps of my music….the night is still, the mood is chill, the wind is sound, and there is no one else around but you and I. I promise the mist of the moon shine will guide you to the heart of man…soon and once again…

My Conversation With Success

I had a conversation with success the other day, I must say it was one of the most honest conversations I ever had with anyone.

It was quite the opposite from what you may think a conversation with success may go. “Why do you think you are unsuccessful?” success asked me, I just shrugged my shoulders as an adolescent child getting lectured by his parents would.

He asked me “would I want to be famous?” where everyone knows your name, and fame is like a drug, the high is insane. The famous air that you sniff is the now the same air that makes you twitch for that fix of flashing lights and late nights out, forgetting everyone that ever believed in YOU, before you ever believed in yourself.

“But the wealth is what you want right?” Success asked me, you seem eager to be something you never thought in your wildest dreams you would become. See success in its outcome, the income never pays for the life you left behind. You may want success, but once you get it, what will you do to make lives better?

But Success never stopped Denzel for giving back to the boys and girls of the world, it never stopped, Oprah for being The Santa Claus that happens to wear bras, success shouldn’t stop with you, nor should it end with what you do.

They say Michael Jordan never did shit for the black community…yet It never stops us from buying his shoes that we use to run from cops, jump fences, kick down doors, step on our sisters. $200 dollars never seemed to meaningful in such a brainless act, in fact, the fact is, we never played the game, never practiced…so why blame Mike? Why not Spike…I mean he did direct Do the Right Thing, She’s Gotta have it, He got game. He had sex scenes that would fog any bathroom mirror, shit I seen my set of tits in one of those flicks.

But the point is this, everyone is a critic, everyone depicts and fears the unknown the subjective, we fear the anomaly, but we praise what’s already been done. I replied to Success with a simple question… “When do you know when you have been successful?” Success chuckled with a grin…the answer lies within the question…I looked away for one second…Success…was gone.

We Were Butterflies

We were butterflies in the haze of May, we were butterflies in the noon of June…we…would…soar so high we would decorate the skies with our fluorescent colors. You and I were the same and never seemed to care or show shame… We…were…butterflies. You captured my thoughts with similar colloquialisms that had my mind and soul at…hello. We…were…butterflies, the sweet nectar of maple scents my senses, I cannot clutch such a feeling, but dare me and I shall try…we…were…butterflies.  We travelled the distance of co-existence and what we built from a cocoon is something far more magical than love transformed into rose pedals of nothingness. Something far more romantic than a princess trapped in a castle, awaiting her prince or pauper to rescue her with a kiss of gallantry.  Yes indeed you were meant for me, better yet we were meant for this moment that we fly into the fields that plays our silhouette, we were meant to fly into the blue ocean tides that we call our personal sky…we lived this life once…as BUTTERFLIES.

The Free Verse Truth of The Bi-Polar Schizophrenic

Perhaps my Honesty is too much for the ears of the ignorant; perhaps my insight scares you to ever show what you hide. I may never be able to reside on the island of silence or swim in the waters of the overlooked eels ever again…naw not at all,  you see it goes a bit deeper in the depths of me, just me sitting, awkward lil one, silent, walked wit a bit of hunch to match his strut. You could spot me from a mile away, dare I spare a moment to stray away from what I came to say. The feelings I have, bares a soul, my soul bares the voice from which I hinder it to ever speak what I truly feel. You scream vehemently that you NEED ME…but will you bleed for me…you speak with notion of devotion, you speak ever so often of emotion, yet I am here only to believe in YOU! A brother that I once knew, a BROTHER I once thought to have, A BROTHER I thought I COULD look up to…LOOKED up to me instead. Your worthless words plead for forgiveness but your malignant eyes tell me otherwise. Never was taught to fight, BUT I never had to take an ASSwhoopin to teach me otherwise, thankfully POP was there to teach me how to show assholes the cold shoulder of humility and civility………………………. The nerve to ever hold back feelings of disenchantment, you see you missed out on a good thing…the day I broke down cause you weren’t around, left me crazy you did, a walking OXY-moron, and so on, I am ranting and raving, my wants and cravings, I was disengaged, caged in a world you governed, you left a MAN with a warm lust and COLD HEART! A MAN TORN APART FROM legs to limb, it’s crazy you CRY more, cause you realize you’re stuck with em’. Yet ranting and raving, my wants and my cravings, I have some fucking nerve to explain such honesty to the population that may never understand…but I say fuck IT for the person with A hoarse voice, I say fuck IT FOR the WOMAN without a will, the WOMAN left without a choice…I say FUCK it to those who ever had me…I say FUCK it to those who ever doubted me…but I digress more should I turn my attention to the MEN who give ME a BAD NAME… I struck a nerve with the PERV…WHOSE WAY to busy thinkin’ bout PUNS on BUSSIN’ grapenuts on mindless SL...BUT I digress...YOU SEE I struck a chord with lord...when he heard me say on my grandmothers dying day...F**K GO...I digress more what for you weren’t listening anyway…

Love Interlude

I’m torn in love...a divided entity, confuses the common sense in me. Maybe I am in need of an epiphany...how senseless can my senses be when I can feel you...but you cannot feel me? I rest my head upon the illusion that you refuse to  see me...but love has its ways of soliciting thoughts and provoking actions into what will satisfy ...I  cannot trust you as far as I can throw you...but to know you...is to love you...and to love you...I must show you

Alive i am

Spread the word throughout the skies, hummingbirds to bald eagles scream that I am alive. I am alive and well, I am dead to the world but I am alive…alive and well I am. Indeed, there is no need for a choir to harmonize over lost time, I am alive and well. The river from which I have cleansed my soul, from the sun where I have dried my tears, I am alive…alive and well I am. No need to fear mother, I have been down this road before, I have struggled only to stumble, I have been misled only to be led by confusion…yet I still remain humble, yet I still remain wise…while in my youth I have wasted time on dreams and wasted my days awake on the dreams that I have slept on. I died in my inception, only to be born again through your eyes of perception.  As you climb on your high horse, as you gallop, never losing stride, I want you to scream and wake all minds and eyes that are closed and asleep, SCREAM loud and proud that THE TRUTH IS ALIVE…IT IS ALIVE AND WELL!!!

Lucifer's LOVE SONG

You speak of ME in such high regard; YOU disregarded the impossible and made it possible. Our possibilities seemed endless, LOVE seemed to be what we thirst for; YOU only seemed to be replenished by the dehydration of heartaches and letdowns. I fumbled over the words of sweet nothings, which seemed to overflow your cup of emotions that I drank from repeatedly. The night is Silhouette and the tears from years and years of prolonging an era we never corrected…I stand beside the devil’s advocate and contemplate what if… The nights I drifted away, knowing you burned for me, yearning for the phone to sound a ring of vindication that I still care, that I would still be there in your nightly despair. Still you remained as faithful to something you never knew existed, but yet you still believed in me… yet I tricked you again and again, having fallen deeper and deeper into my lair of sadness. On nights that we lust and thrust after thrust, you trust in me more…I felt and less and lesser in LOVE with you…YET…YET…the clouds of erotic misery plays the symphony; it harps how much you actually meant to me. Was I living a lie? Could it be me that was indeed living in my own trickery…can’t be…my tears levitates me to a scene we played the part of two cosmic lovers. I serenade remnants of you…remembering when your heart poured out feelings from the cup we both shared… Now when I sing of you, the notes are off key, the pain just doesn’t feel the same, not a chord or nerve is struck. I am trapped inside of a LOVE song that has never been composed…only left to decompose in the hearts of many and never ever to be uttered from the mouths of any…yet you, you, you burn for me still.

November 3rd (Interlude)

A year older, a year wiser, no surprise that through these eyes, I can see beyond my potential, I can taste the wealth of serenity. I will grow as the tree of knowledge forbidden only to those who do not believe, I am conceived from a cloth that was sewed in the fabric of life and prosperity. I will awake from that American dream, and live with the BLACK POWER my father instilled in me. I will fly above the sky and swim in the ocean of love. I shall dance amongst the stars, I will dine on the moonlight of my plight, for this is the night that I will…for this is the night I will be in touch with my DREAMS.

ASS to the WORLD

Feet cemented to the ground, heh never thought I’d be as high as I am right now.

To shameful to stand proud, to stoic to stand heroic. The glances from the frame of

an hour shaped glass paints the picture well. Yet allow me to show my ASS to the world,

Yes allow me to gloat over your pitiful hope; you see it pleasures me immensely to stare at your envy, allowing me to proceed through your struggle. This indeed is sweet bliss of satisfaction, the gratification you may never smell a stench as pungent as this… I convey unto this day, my ASS indeed is shown to the world with great measure, (clearing throat) it gives me great pleasure to introduce, someone so bold, someone who tells it like it is, someone who is exactly what they say they are… Nose so high in the air, I can smell the rancid precipitation seeping through the clouds, the crowd waits in anticipation. The ASS you praise, was the same ASS you gave multiple chances to…has just SHITTED on your world!

Thank You!

Fear

Whether SUN or shine, rain or snow, the path in which I paved, I’ve made way of what I wanted to say today…you see the vision is forthcoming, I can foresee what I am becoming…I can foreshadow the outcome, of what I have already outdone. The mission is complete, the impatient keeps track of time, TRUE leaders never from the front, they guide from behind. I am dreaming amongst the clouds of precipitation, I am dancing amongst the rhythm less band; I am with a spirit that has no soul. Why burn bridges when you’re afraid of fire, why become scared of your own fears when you’re brave when in doubt. The spout of water fills the sink of nothingness as my brain floods with comparisons. Bystanders from forthcomings, I am afraid of what I am becoming, afraid of what I am hiding from my own ambition. Following the intuition of the deaf, I am human again, yet so foreign and away from where I once became. I am afraid of who I am, I am afraid of what I have become…how can I withstand my fear...when I am the only one who can stand me? My potential is the only thing that scares me…yet it is the only thing I have left to be afraid of…

My Life inside the IDIOT BOX

The satellite dish in my head signals to the life I once pondered over, I TiVo’d my favorite moments and remembered from whence I came. I thought of my life to be more like THE COSBY SHOW, trying to find the real me in a scripted reality, although the resemblance is similar I couldn’t be Theo; in the humor of life you can never SITCOM. The paranoia continued, the more I live, the more I pretend! I come to find that I was merely a giant hanging around TWO AND A HALF MEN. Living life with such a MODERN FAMILY, the similarities of yours and mine aint ALL IN THE FAMILY. I live my life behind the mantra of DIFFERENT STROKES for different folks. But while wrapped in the sheets of the streets I called home, I realized NEW YORK UNDERCOVERs. In the midst of lovers and FRIENDS and pretenders, where money is forever hard to come by, with supply in demand and a dream at hand not one dollar to spare they still have the audacity to ask “WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE”. All the while in the midst of my promiscuity I still can’t explain HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER, too many GIRLFRIENDS to count, too many DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES and less content ones. I contemplate the HAPPY DAYS TODAY as if yesterday never happened. I remember THE WONDER YEARS and when THIS BOY MET THE WORLD. I surface in a moon shine and saw the GOOD TIMES we had, whether we were a dollar short, “we took the good and took the bad”; I realized it was just the FACTS OF LIFE. I never saw myself for much of a FAMILY GUY, my thoughts were somewhere in the depths of MARTIN, Gandhi, but MALCOLM was always somewhere IN THE MIDDLE. To my knowledge I thought I would never go to college, I realized it was indeed a DIFFERENT WORLD, meeting woman of all styles and profiles names from MONIQUE TO MOESHA, DARIA TO KEISHA…college seemed to be my personal LOVE BOAT. I searched for truth and meaning BEHIND THE MUSIC, even dumbed myself down to the depths of JERSEY SHORE. In the REAL WORLD they say life is what you make it and the dreamers…well they don’t make it! I would love to stand the test of time and play HOUSE with a spouse, or maybe that’s not the life meant for me, maybe it’s more in the lines of THREES COMPANY.  In the book of life we should steadily REED BETWEEN THE LINES, and quit playing IT as if were THE GAME of sorry. You see in synopsis, there is no hypothesis for tomorrow or what life we are meant to lead, our world is based on ONCE UPON A TIME’s, wishful thoughts and meanings deeply rooted in a flat screen…but if this life was in fact  like a TV show then It would be CSI… Cant Stop Ignorance…

“STAY THIRSTY MY FRIENDS”

BreakTHROUGH

I had a mental breakdown once, my, my; my knees hit the kitchen floor, my head deeply embedded in the core of my stomach. A day of reflection never seen such pain, it was more of a grand awakening for sane, the shaping of a new future I have yet to envision, I remember raising up from that kitchen floor a new ME had been resurrected… kind of like the rise of the phoenix, reaching the highest zenith of my potential. My drive would inspire the driven; I swallowed massive pills of guilt, pride, doubt and sympathy. I pause and contemplate about the chance of TIME…yes the infamous chance of time we tend to take for granted. I speak in the faith of chance and the belief of a realist and realistically we have all failed and faltered at some point in time, the fact remains we have survived, we live to speak upon such events with vigor and character, the crack in our bones, the scars of such miscues, paints a portrait of a survivor. I lived through the coldest of winters, I sweated amidst the hottest of summers, and I have succumbed to this day…a day of reckoning…A DAY where my INSIGHT guides the misguided soul INSIDE YOU!

Misogyny Memoirs

The Misogyny Memoirs

I thought through what I wanted to say to you, I never cared two shyts, three hair bobbi pins about yo’feelings is!  I thought it through carefully you see…I hate YOU just as much as you HATE me.  On this couch that I lay on, there will be no breakthrough, I scrapped through trash and found yo’ ass instead, I never thought twice about your knowledge! why should I care for you?…when you don’t even care for yourself, I told you don’t LOVE ME…you never cared for the warning signs I left behind, you wanted to be blind from the facts and visible to the lies, well then should be no surprise to you! My lies became the truth to you…I saw you in my rearview, all the lies I forced fed YOU…yet you still followed me while I blatantly misled you! You see this story of hatred goes back to ADAM and EVE, I reclaim my position, I recycled your feelings for my own, I LEFT you to do RIGHT…but I was still WRONG. MY LOVE for LUST outweighs your trust so why must YOU waste time on something you can’t rely on? Memories of hearts I left as casualties, I never thought I would be this carefree, can’t believe you still regret me but yet still you let me! Why change, should I really…why succumb to a LOVE that may never show its true face, I rather break up happy homes, SLAY YOU the first day, don’t CALL the second, and forget you by the third day. My life was never meant to be explained but yet you are in need of an explanation…I left PHONECALLS unanswered,  promised wedding rings, the finer things, YOU SEE I MADE YOU BELIEVE ALL THIS…you see the best trick the DEVIL ever pulled was having the world believe he didn’t EXIST. I can never change, shyt why should I... I am what you see every day…I just live in disguise.  I have buried many of hearts in my day, but yet there is no void to fill, I remain numb to pain, immortal to hurt. You ate all my LIES, but yet you FAMISH over truth, I laid out the evidence for you, but yet you still needed proof. Fact is I can NEVER LOVE WHAT I HATE, but yet you LOVE what I DESPISE…WHAT YOU THOUGHT WAS MONOGAMY WAS MISOGYNY IN DISGUISE.

Polaroid for the Memories

Remembering the times of my adolescence, I sought out closure in mental pictures that never developed fully. I was disillusioned, bound by my own confusion. You see it gets stranger I was in the midst of oceans tears, drowning in the waters of remorse. I took course down memory lane, I saw your face again, complacent in my explanation of where I have been, I preach of where I would like to be…I saw you waiting for me by the shore of my dreams, shrieks of laughter, children scattered about the beaches running in the waters. I envisioned you…I envisioned us…there sitting on beach chairs of carefree breeze. A dark tide rose, ominous clouds corroded the skies and everything that seemed to be alive, died. The suns light began to flicker and the noise of laughter turned to daunting screams…your body remained still, I called out your name! To my question there was no reply…I awake at the same shore I was sure you were there…but the only thing beside me resided was an empty beach chair. I turn to shed a single tear, for a moment that never was fully developed.

Awake to Thee

I woke up in love I did, I stared for hrs while you slept i did. Still you were in your sedated pose; I chose to remain...there i did. I love the way you breathe, I see the very heart in you palpitate, I do dare to hesitate yet another moment of loving you...I did...I Will, I shall for it's my hearts duty to... I embrace your aura, I see the angel in you that shines thru the cloudiest of days, I am far from admiration, and yet I am in heavenly Bliss...for I am remised at the sight of you.

To Be Continued

WHY care more? What for? Should I remain dictated by shame, should I cry over spilled milk that you failed to clean up… a sucker for your lust, confused from the power you have regained and insanely abused.  Knowingly so…I know all these things but I refuse to let you go, YES I REFUSE TO LET YOU GO, can’t let you know though, how you have me ever so weak, deep, deep within the sweaty palm of your hands. I can’t seem to remember the last a person had me so open, but was able to close my heart shut. You think you know the real me… How can we last (I ask rhetorically)…when all you see is my past? How can we pace ourselves …fast forward thru the lies, hold still and move slow motion thru the good times, yet you still at will hold to rewind…be kind…still you remain blinded by me…yet you still remained stained by me…yet you still remain…yet you still remain. “I’m a jerk, yet I still try to make it work… in the travels of love, it’s just the blind leading the blind, while feelings are left behind at the benches, caught in the trenches, I am and forever will be drenched in your rain of blame...

To Be Continued

Mission Statement to the Government

We are afraid of the TRUTH, we are afraid of whatever is foreign, we yawn at what is boring, we vehemently scream at what’s common. We are accustomed to the usual, and estranged to the unusual. I gave birth to a thought and raised a state of MIND. I live behind the concept of normality…I second guess the primary conclusion to your thesis of truth, but the youth thinks otherwise, you see they see beyond the grit in your wit, the clout in your tone.  We are left alone as the step children to the society of the misunderstood; I am left to no avail but to lead the muted voices of the dark allies, the misguided youth that are subjugated to your lies, your voice will not be a catalyst to our demise, surprise me with your empathy, engage me with your humility… better yet pay us what you owe us…peace, tranquility. This is not a memo, more less a mission statement for the oppressed, change has yet to come, collateral damage are at the hands of what we call a government…they don’t seem to govern shyt!  The hell with finance, let’s stop building for FRANCE, let’s not worry about the royal weddings and feeding bullshyt to the pool pit of our brains. We acknowledge the polished, Steve died and their still no Jobs, we supplied the ignorance with ammunition, how can we evolve when we have yet resolved what we go through every day. How can I cure you, when the whole world is already poisoned…I am the host…the last of the dying breed of a truth soothsayer. IF YOU KILL TRUTH, LIES SURVIVES, IF YOU ASASSINATE HATE, LOVE WILL reciprocate. IF YOU CREMATE PROOF, YOU WILL REINCARNATE TRUTH…Mission statement to the Government!

The Abstract Stands Out

Writing the perfect verse, I find it hard to rehearse what can’t be observed. The obscurity cures me; the malice provides my soul solace. The irony brings simplicity, honesty to the membrane of the disdain. I feel insane in the robe of misfortune, but yet rich in the ditches of poverty. Such an introvert, I clearly hide in the shell society has built for me.  That shell O’ I know so well, can’t you tell, I have yet to dwell in a subtle mind of calmness. I dream all too often of a world filled with ironic peace, I find silence in the noise of the world; I find wealth in the debt of my soul. I find direction in the world where blind leads the blind. The abstract world we live, bares the children to the hidden, the misunderstood, a spot where I once stood. The rain of tears I wept, swept the world in a hurricane of worry, I scurried off in the dim lights to never be seen, and I cascaded through floors of mediocrity.  I replaced those tears with jeers, I replaced those days to months. BUT THIS year I gave birth to a great MIND that came from the womb of my thoughts. My solemn vow to never give a shadow a chance to doubt, I will forever walk in the line of faith… I will stand in front of whomever STANDS OUT!!!...I WILL STAND IN FRONT OF WHOMEVER STANDS OUT!!!...

Great Expectations

   We reside on the avenues of loneliness and disheveled curiosity possibly am I the only one who is at a loss of words to currents events that I cannot describe. In scribe I conceal all that is real to me, you see people aint what they use to be, holding on to dear life of humility. Friend’s aint who they say they are, quite far from the expectations you bestow on their lowly attempts.  The family we seek always finds a way to leave stains, to never clean off the residue, allow the stench to surface purposely. I would rather be remembered for who I am today, I would rather you not conceal your true emotions upon the characteristics of me, I would rather you value me as I am here in the present. I rather you not fall in memory bliss sit back and reminisce on who I was. I WOULD love to receive the roses of conversation while still containing the sense of smell.  The reverence, of which we hold this world today, should be remembered just as the sweetest of memories.  Great Expectations of the world today may not be the same reverence of what you hold for me…which quite honestly I can live with, but you will you hold the same reverence for your life that has yet to be made into a memory…Great Expectations

The Life I Lead

The Life I lead

The Life I lead… the times I take ever so gentle care of, I speak of resurrection, surpassing the days of Jesus Christ. I never thought I would be able to touch ground on such profound concrete sound. You see in the eyes of my days, the years within my spirit, I merit the privilege… thus being thankful for every smile, I am grateful for every tear of Mother Nature, showing respect to the of cousin death, appreciating the wealth of oneself outside the pocket of man. I foresaw my future to the conclusion of never seeing the beginning progressions only to realize that I was living in my past reflections. Life’s transgressions lead to today’s confessions, I am here for a purpose in what and for what has yet to be determined. But for the time being… I am simply here to live this life I was born to lead.

Miseducation Interlude

  My miseducation, reveres over the complications of what I never discovered. Do I feel comfort of my misfortune of knowledge? The questions remain rhetorical, the rhetoric of such inflation to the brain of a nation…am I the cause. Pause past the escape clause, we shall stand together to form the imperfect nation, we hold true to the concept of such miseducation.

Picasso and Friends

Could it be a figment of our imagination, a space in time where you can never see them but you just know they’re present?  Could they be simply something we can’t live without like water or the air we breathe, could they be the very subject that hinders us from ever becoming what we set out to be? This unknown entity seems to plague us endlessly, where we lose our own identity. We compromise our thoughts, rationalize their faults, we justify their SIN as crutches, holding their CAIN to walk knowing that they are ABEL. We hold value to this, we them hold over family, we famish over acceptance,  the gluttony behind being wanted we flaunt as the woman of the night do, but do we actually care for such acceptance…do we care? Are friendships really what Picasso painted them to be, then if so… we will never know.

Disfigured

Disfigured

Every so often I drift in precaution of ever falling again, yet I fall…I fall again and again. O’ the irony that showers us as we danced in our platonic ecstasy and lost our footing in romance. You look at me quite different now, you question more, we talk less, I guess we were both lost in our own intimate game, where one of us had to be left with blame. Such a shame, the love games that people play, I must say, if the story ever was to be told I would refrain from using you as my protagonist. The agony of never having a feeling reciprocated, instead saying how we truly feel, we abbreviate it…can you explain this disdain feeling, I have mounting on the cliff of my heart, can’t you hear the pieces chipping away, falling apart. Only you were able to sew in what others  believed to be a fabrication, only you united what others tried to separate, but yet there is a void missing, there is truth in lies…isn’t there? We started with so much promise and ended in something less promising, it’s funny how life can take you full circle and misshape you at the same time…

Sam Cooke

I had a chance to change once, but I was too afraid to be…what you thought was or would be…the real me…I had a chance to change once, I remember when I looked in the mirror and ashamed of my own reflection, neglecting all that I knew to be true. I had a chance to change once…The boy in me was too shy to come out of his shell, holding onto whatever youth I had left, I tried to change, It just never made the change with me. I had a chance to change once…I rekindle the light of memory; I serenaded a melody, a symphony if you will, and prayed upon the nights I dreaded change, a change of life that I lost and would never dared or ever cared enough to look for, a change similar what Sam Cooke searched for. I digress more from the problem at hand…the chance within my clutches, the change I had as crutches. The same chance I had was the change I ran from, I dreamt for the two to meet, I waited patiently on the stoop of faith, but to no avail…I failed me once again…the chance I had at change…I wonder where I would be if they ever ran across one another, would I be CHANGE you can consider taking a CHANCE on!

Truth Of Lies

I raped the thought of losing grip on this here life, subsequently it thrills me to know it can kill me at the same time, I search the realm of earth to find myself worth and I found nothing in return. You search through books, texts, media sublets, and to find the meaning…where simply we lose touch of what was never within our grasps. I don’t need a picture, a verse, or scripture to define me, my meaning defines my meaning, my shines and sparks the plugs of the clueless mind, and I find peace in the noise I craft, I find my way in my maze I paved, you see you overstand me to understate my complexity.  I go beyond the truth of lies, I sore beyond the bird that flies, I levitate beyond the soul that dies, you see when the wind hums Mary and the darkness seems scary and meek, you see truth in the eyes of the night… you see ME!

Foreplay on Life

I used life for what it was, I used life for what it was to me…it was just time on a clock, it was just a tick and a tock. I would promenade with the surrogates of time; I would search every rhythm with a rhyme. In due time the clock would often say, stacking on my floors were the list of regrets that I have yet to forget. Yet I remember yesterday, I remember the simplest of things, I conjured up thoughts and consequences that brought me to this very state, I wait for the warning signs, I lust the irony of ignoring the ignorant and falling in love with the incompetent. I used this life for all that it has owed to me, the air I breathe, the food I digest, in jest I digress to the matter at hand, I disband my beliefs to the fallacies of our harsh realities. I used to love life, now I regret it, I used to lust life, now I am in love again.

Blessed

I am Blessed, YOU ARE BLESSED we are all blessed, I remember being stressed, growing tired of the test of life, hoping and praying that one day my graces will soon come to manifest.  I cry and say in jest I am, you are, we are blessed. On those lonely nights of solitude, I would cry, dare to say I would rather die than to relive another harsh disappointing day of culmination.  No words could ever salvage the times I have sulked in my own damp tears, the years went by, the days turned to hours, the hours told the same story to seconds, seconds it took for the last tear to drop before I resigned for the night. Yet I digress, for I am blessed, yes blessed to be alive, to be awake at such early wee hour of the morning, bless to grace the streets of such gumbo, humbled to hear a stomach grumble and fill with fruitful knowledge of wisdom. Yes I am, yes you ARE, and indeed we are all blessed. I would rather sleep during the hurricanes of life, than waste those sunny precious days over self-loathing, o’ the loathe you wear as a coat, drenched in your own emotion. Remember we are all blessed, we are blessed, and we are all blessed.

If I Wrote the Book On the Revolution!

If I wrote the book on the revolution, I would include the constitution, yes the constitution no optical illusion, I would rewrite history, I would contemplate the days of Malcolm before Farrakhan, Martin Luther Before he Became King.  The revolution goes beyond THE OBAMA ADMINISTRATION, something you see hardly, the revolution will never BE INVITED TO THE TEA PARTY. Yes If I wrote the book on the revolution, it would not end in conclusion, the revolution is endless… no solution to what we know as the resolution. Our forefathers would be yo’ daddy, my daddy, his daddy, the revolution settles for simple means in life. My word on the revolution tells the tale of stories that never ends with a moral cause,for the martyrs are our heroes. Gil Scott Heron Said the revolution will not be televised... but he never stated it could never be written…roots is our Bible, Books are our way for survival, they would be our means to know what the revolution is…we are the revolution…we are our democracy, we are the change we see, the revolution will be written in the universal language of the world….Peace.

SIMBA

I contemplated for days of how I would have my first talk with you, I was never able to get the words right.  Hoping you can see through the light, hoping that I am your first sight at life. what joy you will soon bring me, what jovial feeling of seeing a little replica of me, holding it high to heavens ceiling, so revealing that you look just like yo’ daddy. Watching your every move as you emulate every step that I take, I would explain to you that the risk is not in the choice, but the choices you make lies within the risk you take. My little man, my SIMBA, you are a sight for sore eyes, you would mean the absolute world to me, I would watch you sleep for hours, give you baby showers, but as I know we grow as spring flowers, I will soon have to loosen my grip and allow you to trip and learn from every fall. A man will be what a man will be, but it is the character that defines him, and it is that in fact what the people shall see.  But you are just an imagination of what will soon come my son; you will be the mistake I wish to never undo…for you will be my Simba, My Prince, My ripple reflection beyond the ponds of time…My Son, the Gift that was given unto me.

Honestly Speaking

I reside in the belly of honesty and honestly, lately my honesty bothers me. If the mind had a mental conversation with the heart, would it spill all that it thought of, would the heart have the heart to convey such heartache, would the mind find a way to be more mindful? How frivolous of me to question one’s mind and heart of honesty.  Do they come from the same place? is their anyway  they came to an agreement that they will never see eye to eye. To be brutally honest, I could never be honest enough, allowing me to trust something I never had the heart to, we tend to follow the minds of others in order to find our own, what an empty feeling it is to have, what a joy of ignorance, a bliss of nothingness, but honestly who gives a f*&k!

The Disease

The Disease

The Plague within me, has never been explained, the significance of my existence has always relied on the way others have handled me. I seem to be everywhere evil has settled. The thought that I was conjured on accident, I am indeed a catastrophe that is bound by action, the disease that is incurable, the pain oh' the immeasurable pain that I sustain it whelps my soul. I Was built to destroy the wall of your good health, and with all of my malice bred from Cain, I am my own worst enemy, there is no remedy for the disease inside me, no cure to transform my womb to pure... and I still have yet to realize the circumference of my existence.

Somber Rain

The sun can rise and set on moods that weep during those rainy, rainy days.

Raise the possibility of going through tumultuous times; we rise as the morning comes.

We set as the tides cover of up the shore of what is in store of things we never succumb to purchase.

I can foresee the future, I can foresee the unseen, and I forbid knowing the truth of what I never

would ever to want to discover in you.

Once Upon A Dream

Last night i dreamt...last night I awoke from a dream from which their was a point of no return. Last night I dreamed of flowers that grew from tears. Last night I wept...slept with my own sorrow, the affair lasted all but 10 mins, but an eternity it seemed I was embedded upon the breast of mourning. You see this dream, was merely just a mirage of some kind. I often see  montages of you...Your smile is what I miss, I remember every sense of you...ironic enough a dream I dreamt...I knew it would not be as real as the memory you left behind...soon after my last subconscious contemplation...I awake, and to my left is the sorrow and mourning you left behind.

deception

We inherit the reigns of deception, bound by the faulty truth that lays by you. River of streams never seem so rare...without a care in the world, who cares to be different, we dare the benevolent, we ignore the irrevelent, we stay in tune with what is prevalent.

Bittersweet Poetry

How do you know when the love is gone, is it the morning kiss you bliss for, is it in the evening affection you ever so vehemently conceal…far from the artificial, you’re losing the most important part of you when you fall in the deep, deep depth of despair they call LOVE…Why can’t you see me the same way you see yourself, why can’t I get the same treatment you give to yourself? Huh? Is it me? Isn’t this where you want to be…you are never without a response why start now…think of this as your fighting chance to finally romance something, those thoughts on escaping.  YOU ARE LEAVING ME ARENT YOU?! YEAH I can see it in your wandering eyes, no surprise tho! Mamma said you would be the first to go, not that it was timetable I was setting, but you had me steadily regretting every single moment spent, without a receipt to blanket the pain, I remain here motionless, heart steadily pounding, the room seems like its spinning yet, I am still as stone. You are there and I am here in the room, but oh so alone I feel…I remember we shared LOVE as our last name, now ALL that is left is shattered memories and broken picture frames. You left me a long time ago, I was just to simple, to naïve to just know, or was I too possessive to let you go. I must know, dammit it’s my right too! Who is it that stole your heart? Who is the reason that I am being lied to? you say “I never listened”, shit you never tried to. you stare in the eyes of your love and wonder for one last glance where did it journey off to…I chance the thought on how I would feel a year from now, having the ironic feeling of joy in in your pain, having pleasure in your misery, Nothing but pure happiness in your sorrow… But you and I both know…I WILL BE HERE...  to return tomorrow…bittersweet!

In The End

How I survived the times are beyond my own imagination, but the journey to get there speaks volumes in the end result.  I denounce to the fact of the inevitable, I speak volumes to the control of the unseen and withstand the trauma.

The sun rises and sets on the unfortunate and misunderstood.  We see more than we need to see, we react on the senses that are not prevalent to our being.

We will never become a ease with ourselves if we do not make it right with our environment to solidify our future. No calendar or higher power can save us on the fate of what is to come…

I may never fathom the true meaning of the end, but to get there is a question for the curious to debate to ask… Do you think of the end as the exclamation point, the dash in between the life you were given to the life that has been taken away…

Think beyond the end…think about…

Why Remember?

Do we remember for the heartache it caused us? Do we remember for the inner patriot within us?
Should we remember where we were for that moment we heard the first tower fell...(Moment of silence). I remember do I dare to forget, sure I do, I reckon the whole ordeal, I remember my principal coming into my morning english class and telling us that "We are under attack!" There I sat in my chair thinking this was something out of a jerry bruckheimer film. Trying to formulate scenes in my head from independence day, wondering what Will Smith would do in a situation like this, as cynical as the scene presented itself to me and my classmates, I thought to myself what will happen next? Soon after that announcement was made, another was presented to us that another tower had been hit and had fallen as well...(Moment of silence). I Remember the assembly in school, being broken up into designated zip codes, the threat of having to walk home, because New York City as we knew it was under attack! I remember coming home, watching the news and falling asleep, hoping to awake and it be all a dream I had dreamt. But to no avail, it was about as real as anything as I ever imagine, this terrible attack will forever impact us, our children and our childrens children. I scar it left on us all, the paranoid state of urgency to avenge such treachous act of terror. I remember...I remember...I REMEMBER. You see such patriotism should never have to show its face, due to such acts on America. I can't say I grew  more of a patriot heart and it rekindled a starlight of love for America, but I can say that it taught me how to never take LIFE for granted EVER AGAIN! Im not stating we should FORGET ALL TOGETHER, BUT let allow those who perished on that dreadful tuesday, a time to rest. Should we continue this tradition, hold the merit and value on Pearl Harbor, Oklahoma City or The 16 Street Baptist Church that was Bombed during a sunday service on September 15th 1963, killing four little girls. Don't LOSE the message that one is more significant than the other, but merely understand...Lets allow history be just what it is...History...Yes I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER EVERY DETAIL OF THAT DAY...And that is why i choose to forget.

In Loving Memory of darryl "Pop" McKinney

The Greatest Poem Never Written

The Greatest Poem Ever Written

Look in the mirror; take a glimpse of your reflection

Is it your eyes that disguises you, is it your complexion that complexes you?

Do you recognize that person that stares right back at you?

Do you see any truth in what you explore, is too scared to show itself? is it the pride inside you?

You see, who you are who you are, what you think is who you will subconsciously become.

Don’t ever run from the inevitable; it is the shadow of your personality.

Would you dare to be a square in a room full of circles?

Mirrors are the biggest deceivers, making us believers in everything we THINK we see outside on the inside.

There is no mirror made that reflects our inner beauty, bring down your wall of shame,

Look around… there is no one to blame.

Release your true beliefs, let go of your inhibitions, go through life lessons.

Have humility in your fame; make your confidence your claim.

And on that morning of reckoning as you look into the mirror, your inner reflection will reveal a story that was never told.

Confucius

Never thought confusion had a face to show,

Never knew there maturation was solely dependent upon my belief.

Never imagined I would have complications of eradicating such a plague.

So rare to give birth to a child in a world full of mass confusion,

A hereditary trait straight from the genes of my contemplations, I created such a monster

Of demonstrative complexities.  So ironic I stand in the rain of sunshine, I melt in the cold mints of winter.

Mass confusion is more than just a mental illusion, a minds random façade if you will.

Confusion you thrilled me, instilled in me education I never thought I would be able to learn and regurgitate to the minds of the mindless.  Confusion your misconception parallels to the moth by the fire.

I am left befuddled in a dark emotion of confusion…

Remote of Life

Press play on the remote of life... Press pause on the surreal reality. Allow the precious times to play in slow motion, nevermind  fastforward. Rewind if you will, feel free to just BE in the now forever. you may live for tomorrow, but LOVE for today...press play and live for everyday...for the rest of your life!

Believe in me

Believe in me as you trust in tomorrow...you say im a dreamer...I live in my thoughts. The disdain feeling of never breathing, teething thru the truthful fruit. I cry at the sun, knowing it will leave and to be returned again to mother natures bosom... Send for me in the evening. O' speak of me as the midnight breeze passes your knees as you cascade thru the sandy floor...believe in me, as i believe you will soon return to me...

Care... do You REALLY?

How can we survive the hard times without dwelling on the negative times ever so often, how frequently we succumb to our guilty pleasures of reminding ourselves how worthless we are. Think of all the good things that occur in our lives, do we really appreciate these things? why do we appreciate the rain more than the sunshine? Why do we take for granted the little things we value in this world...think about the time you thought about the life of a little ant? As ridiculous as you may think the question sounds, I challenge you to think about it. It correlates to how we think of ourselves and the things we value. I bleed to know how much I care for nothing, and salvage everything to go through nothing of significance. We should never take for granted precious times we have on this earth, I am sure we all thought the worst when the East Coast felt that earthquake yesterday, while in that disheveled state we were in, think of Haiti, think of Japan, think of Lousiana and Katrina. Were they any different? did we really care enough? I think of how we should speak of much more sincerity, walk in faith rather mope in doubt and hopelessness. Cherish life in its...in its most delicate form, I realize everyday that I awake whether in the brightest of suns, or the darkest of days, I am blessed to be in the presence of LIFE. I care more than I ever did before...does it match the consistency of your care? I dare to ask such a question, but even more hesistant to know the answer.

My Human Soul

While my heart cries, my soul arrives, allowing me to remember that i once was human. My illusion through mass confusion befuddles me, cuddles me into a fetal state. My soul dies, my soul cries, lying beneath the core of what once was my own soul...

Forget to Remember

I loved you....wait... I really fucking loved you!
I loved everything about you...from the bounce of your rhythmic sound...put me at ease, let me feel free, you allowed me to be me. You listened  when no one had the time to. I gander memories in the back of my mind of a time where we would talk for hours n the rain, sleet or snow...you knew me and i thought i knew you. I loved the attention others gave me cause of you...i suppose i have u to thank for giving me my identity...but wait...an identity that was never asked in the form of question that required a yes or no reply...you lied to me...betrayed me...Left me lost in a world i thought i knew...thank you for allowing me to know the real me instead of relying on lies that i never knew where there...thank you for i now know my true calling!

Unstoppable

Like the force of nature and the strength of a million winds, the gumption of a stubborn soul, we stretch the muscle of the mind and inner twine them with the brains of illusions. How can we live in the life of the weak and live in our minds as a strong, persistent fetus that resides in our souls but clutches the fear of levitation. Unstoppable is what my sole purpose is for my souls purpose! we can remain powerless, until we are motionless. For the life of me we are conceived from the birth of courage and the death of hesitation. We are unstoppable, the immovable force of life is what forces us to become unstoppable!

Mediocrity

You can never surpass what is not within your grasp. What has meaning in our lives never prospers to become of any relevance in later tides. The ocean floor sees more than what we will ever conquer, more than what we can ever imagine, here in the depths of the water. Rise above foreign land, smell the ripe fruitful take on life, explore more, believe to receive what we cannot comprehend, pretend what we find hard to imagine. Speak of what we silence often.  In the wake of night, while the dawn is sound asleep, we wait for our Sun to raise man.  

My Comfort

We ran together amongst the alps and swung amongst the trees, we shook down all concerns and burdens.
what we failed to remind ourselves was in fact we are merely just human.
we fell, we fell, we fell, we surrendered to all applicable warnings, we foreseen our destiny shaped it, molded it into what we have before us now... we never trained our minds to climb such mountains of truth, our youth is what set us apart our ignorance is what brought us back together. however in a state of levitation you never question the height en route, just the difficulty en pursuit of the highest point. we danced until the music wore off, we sung until our voices were just echoes. the wind of the night, your eyes embodied everything i ever dreamed of in matrimony. But the fear of mother nature never let us be... My expectations of you were so overt... As my Heart Cried How ironic i found comfort in my own discomfort.

Run on Deaf Ears

Playing the forbidding game of life, the consequences are trifle for survival. We seep thru the woods of an optical illusion sincerity, clarity is what we really search for, furthermore, i secede from what i know to be real, i reside in a place i hide from the world. i share with my reluctance, i bathe in gluttony, i scream in mutiny. But somehow it soothes me, i am rarely the child of the night, i roam in the heart of the morning and feast in the belly of the noon. Gone so soon, i sing, i run to a tune far from the deaf ear, an elder within my young years...my emotions are prancing, dancing around the jovial fire, i am sobbing with my desire.

Rest of my Life

Put time in the time you reside in, be careful of the time you waste, for life may past you by...with the wink of an eye, as the color of the sky, see time as a keeper, we weep upon what we lost for time is never an reciprocate of what we can revive. We cannot survive as do we live without a breath.

mental NOTE

Never Settle for less, mental note to self. we always succumb to failure as if it were our only ally...

Everywhere

I am everywhere the world sent me to be…
You look up and I am there
You look down and I am nowhere to be found
Here and there, triumph and despair.
Look beyond the gander and see me
Search inside within yourself and search  through your soul
Grab hold of what is beyond your moist grasp.
Search for me and you shall find thee.

When thoughts are thought

My mind is set on top of something i have forbidden since the beginning of time, the tortoise never conveyed such worry to the hare. Since present day is more of a glare than a speedy glance...remember that our thoughta begets thoughts of whatever the mind conjures. The decor of the simple, the simplicity of civility damns the spirit. Thoughts of life can never be explained and never ever be justified, just manifested

The use

Whats the use of control...whats the use of self control,whats the use of self content. The many phases of man draws a perplex comparison of what we conjure up to what we build to be thoughts. but whats the use of it all, why should we pray on success while we fail to prevail on the day to day struggle of progression. I ask whats the use...whats the use of it all.

Poetry my only cup

There is a drink of life on the table of guilt sip it slow, never once thought I would lose my soul on the floor of memory and revived by my own thoughts of what I once in a life lived through...poetry my only cup, life is my only chaser...tho some may beg to differ, I beg for things to remain unchanged...the cup of poetry, saving every last drop for life is in the depths of this cup I drink and this cup may very well be the life of me...