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.