Friday, November 30, 2012

Saved From Exile




 
Saved From                  
E X I L E               
Would I be able to catch your wind
On my hole filled sails?

I trail your comet stuck in the sand

Would it be if just for a moment

I could hold your wonderfully tender hand

I would chance the flight to be your man

To be your man it sounds so grand

Not that it was something I planned

No not at all I was in the middle of the riddle

Of a freefall and a self imposed un rosed

Exile

But now I’m GOD endowed and would walk a

Country mile to see your spectacular smile

To hear your soul warmed laugh

I love your amazing addition to my life

Damn if GOD aint good at HIS maddening math

Goodness if goddess in grand life changing path

Thank you Queen

Chay 2012

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Going The Long Way About

   My soul is cold                                                                        
                  On the downfeather of gold
             They say that folk caint be bought
                 I cant roll over and play dead
      Even though you pissed a hole in my not yet
                            Warmed grave
The funeral you planned was an unmanned casket ruined
And exposed the holes in your basket cased painkiller laced
            Soul that I kept together and wept in weather
                      Not worth weeping over
                 Seeping over with Supernova
                         Hot with separation
      My sickening deadication to you was maddening
  Harrowed with sorrow I tried to follow your hollow bones
                 Into your personal zone of hell
                 Into which I fell from grace
                Space : the end of my kind
I find myself wondering who the hell gave me the right to
                Burn away three years on bullshit
     Fit to be tied tried and judged I still wouldn’t budge
         From the life sucking sludge that was you
     But im redempt Yes? Relit on a new GodHot fuse
                 On the refuse to die hard like I die
I fly on the fuel that you defecated on my prostrated being
And my how my soul sings
Seeing now I was fool but now Im knew
With the replacement you would be incorrect to say
You were merely a delay in my happiness
 
 
 
 
 
 
Going The Long Way About
Chay2012





Saturday, November 10, 2012

American Woman-prelude

There were no ordered steps to his movement. He was jagged in motions; dizzy yet flying. Flowing yet chaotic. He was drifting toward the edge and Jenni wanted to catch him. However, she was in her own state of tonic. Her breaths were not even. Her pupils jumping in window shuttered lenses. Then, Lenny from 12th street, god of the good times, performed his encore performance by leaping 40 stories to his pie-in-the sky. Just then, Jenni sailed into a different darkness: her subconscious.

Thomas has watched over his little girl for years. He could remember back when she was eight years old, running alongside her first bike. He could remember protecting her from the bully in the neighborhood. He thought back to the time first time he could not protect his little girl. The neighbor down the street had two older boys. Thomas was always worried about them and instructed his Jenni to stay away them and the house down the street.

"Those boys are just boys" Maureen would screech in that high toned bitch-of a-voice. Thomas would always have to go work only to find his daughter by their house. "Maureen! For GOD sakes please keep the baby away from there!" he pleaded.

"oh pooh, Thomas! Sometimes, I think you love your daughter more than me!" she would bark.

That really ate Thomas up and she knew it.

One day Thomas came home from work.

"hey. Where's the baby?" he asked

"She's out." Maureen said shooing him off so she could read her Cosmo magazine.

"Sweet Pea!" Thomas called more than once.

It was after about ten minutes when he had put his exasperated hands on his hips. He would have to go find her, in this heat. He decided to leave his blazer on anyway. This way, Jenni would know that he was off work and tired. he would let her know to stay within shouting distance of the house. But he knew he missed his baby girl and nothing made him forget about the world like his little girl. He looked down the street not quite sure if the heat was getting to him already. He saw a little blonde ragdoll stumbling, like a dog he once saw get hit. His heart in his throat constricted and stopped him and almost simultaneously starting his out ambling gait. "S-swe" he muttered.

"sweet pea?" Thomas squeaked out.

It was Jenni. She looked like an animal had chewed her up and spit her back out. The left side of her head was blooded, some of which had darkened in the fury of the sun, matting to her hair. The crimson patch had its share of fresh blood, but the dark was an indicator she had been walking awhile. Thomas could see the shock in his baby's eyes. She stared forward in a dream like state almost unable to blink. Thomas got his baby to County Memorial in 13 minutes flat. After Maureen got there, he listened to his wife deflect every possible opportunity of responsibility. In fact, when Maureen cried, it was because she thought he was blaming her, not because of her daughter. When they got home a week later, Thomas put his daughter to bed. He then asked his wife to join him in the back yard. It was there another first occurred. Thomas hit his wife. he socked her right good in the jaw. He had never hit a man so hard. Then, he proceeded to kick the shit out of his wife for well over 15 minutes. She hurt for a month forward. He never left his wife and Maureen stayed. And his bitter fury and anger stayed on that backyard that night and did not follow the couple into their 25th year of marriage. Maureen never again let her daughter out of her sight. No longer did she resent her baby girl, and in fact from that day forward, she loved Jenni almost as hard as Thomas did. And they lived happily ever after. All together, but Jenni never recovered from her childhood trauma. So she became rough to handle in high school. She fell for every bad boy in the book. She began using dope and missing for days at a time. Still, thomas and maureen never stopped loving their little girl. Jenni would still graduate and somehow managed college. it was junior year, when thomas could not protect his little girl for the second time. That time was 5 years years ago, when Jenni thought she could save her friend Lenny Leon from throwing himself off a rooftop 40 stories up. Jenny managed have the sense to run down 40 flights of stairs to catch him, only to stumble into traffic right in front of the Countyline bus. So, here thomas was 10 years into not being able to save his little girl. He was the first from the hospital and his pulsating rhythmic breathing merged with the machines timely “beep beep” beeping. He nodded into his chest as he had done for the past decade. In the meanwhile several more moments had passed before Thomas was awakened by the most pleasant sound he had experienced since Maureen’s “yes” so many yesterdays past. “D--Da--Daddy?” Jenni had managed. Thomas came awake, eyelids pulling free of one the other to see his baby struggle with her own wherewithal. “Sweet Pea? Sweet Pea? You’re here?” He almost giggled. He had waited ten years to hear his baby. Ten years of prayer and wishes and hope. Illusions of grandeur had Thomas thinking that his daughter had moved in years past. It was a common faux pas, occurring when one sat for so long. Now, he had to wonder if it was such another occurrence. He touched her face and knew that reality, no GOD himself had blessed him with another who-knew-how-many moments with his returned from-the-wherever baby of his.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Of The Remnants of Roses

What’s left of her dancing distant breaths
What kept wept and slept to the left of the white
Bright but blue in hue
The remnants of what’s left of me and you
Ya know? But how could you?
Do what the earth needs In the morning’s mourning
The dew with wet and bereft
Of knept and swing toward what bird’s sing of thing
And the Love of GOD and a nod toward forward thinking
Do I sound like I’ve been drinking?
Perhaps; the lap of the orbit of swoon I dance the stars for the love lit moon
And soon the evening will end could we dance ‘til the silence
Of the wind?

 Chay 2012

 

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Between You and Me

Roses and wine and candles and wind chimes
and time and today
images of love unlimited
present it with prism with
woman with the gift of love
doves and air and cloudless sky
wonders beyond dare
shares of tears dried eyes
suprise and sown sweet sayings of hearts
sparks of feelings and small talk
walks in the park after dark
nightcaps and midday Saturday naps
laps around the universe
lonely dispersed into nothing
back to something it works
between you and me

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Rue the Day of Love

Do you dream to demean
A nigga like me?
A giver of my liver if I had it
My habit is that im stuck
Fucked with giving unto you
Giving ‘til im blue in the face
Give my life id replace my all for you
If you only knew what I would do for you
But you live in fear from what you aint never get
From him from them
You live in a pool of never forget
So you wont let yourself love me
Rub me raw
Kill me with my own give-all
‘Til I crawl back to GOD for forgiveness
Liveless unto an idol I make love I make you
I take you for my unlawfully wedded
Indebted to bled it out
‘til my veins ran dry with why
Live give and let die
Nothing dust no air not even eye
No cry no justus just you
And on to the next fool-for-you
I deserve to rue the day
I met you and unleavened myself
To unhealth death do us partly because
I was what love should never be what was idolatry

Brooks Was Here

Dreams are foreign
With sovereign doctrine
The song of men with sixpence
And a sense of none
Numb and locked in lust with young
I’m hung in one
Spot
Brooks was here….

What year was it
When the buzzards filled the sky like blizzards
Snowflakes locked in circumstance with a chance
Of advance Im circumspect
Lost in a pool of lack of respect
Success a mess of madness and too pitiful
To call sadness
What are you?
What am I?
But for a fly in the Annointment
Lost in mint julip frosted tulips accosted
By the moss fit of illigit thought
Wrought wrong in song so strong
And elongated penetrated masturbated
Uneducated impurity
Fury me with maximum none
Hung from where the institutionalized
Realized cries fell on deaf ears for years
And the breath of the many disappears
Like the ghost of fear
Brooks was here……