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…