I hear the footsteps of your pain, muddy with resentment, discontentment
A heart untouched by kind words,untouched by appreciation for what you give
The rain outside of your windows eternally fall unable to be sheltered from the picture you have painted to the world that fails to provide you the sunshine you need to grow and forgive
I hear them loudly in your tone
In your hurtful words
Your shield from the arms I open to protect you from that downpour
Inhale my love, change your picture
Together we can clean your shoes
Clean away the dirty toils beneath your sole(soul).
Here we can change the forecast of our tomorrow
On our knees we can pray
I will stay within your grasp
Won’t leave you alone
Will set a new tone
In my willingness to be your umbrella in the storm
I feel your core
Feel the beauty you have lost
Just living in that rain
The insurmountable pain
Take my hand
I demand the light to shine within our time
Here we will endure bad, make a path to fine and arrive in the brightness of the sun
Vulnerabilities left with fear
Its time I share with you my faith
Its were my smile arrives
Its wear my pain is released
Its why my shoes are clean
Why the tears always end in a rainbow
Don’t live in the thunder, in that hurricane
Within is how we rebuild
Where we must heal….
Category Archives: preception
I hear the footsteps of your pain, muddy with resentment, discontentment
As a woman I live in an understanding of my emotional culture. With each documented moment I live binding a library of books of my experiences. Something I find on my journey are moments of interaction with men in my community some of them from homes broken and others from families assembled by time and others in the traditional make up. The black man has been the consequence of negativity and forlorn thought. The black man is an elusive entity of strength and as the community of my peers evolve from young men to men it’s most powerful era I look at the elegance of transistion and the opposition of being a legacy of decisions that maybe the men before them took. I am a woman and I like other little black girls were left to become women without the presence of a man in the home. Yet as God provides me the gift of his love he has shown me the new understanding of the black man who has shed the heavy coat of prejudice and the cotton of a too hot life when trying to get to a moderately comfortable temperature in there atmosphere of being the man on the outside of privilege. These arriving men whom I have named arriving because through the storms of history and disrespect and the lack of support These men truly need they still come through those foggy moments hoping and trying their best. They even arrive to the storms of us loud talking, strong willed, fatherless and fathered mess of understanding women.. Yet as a woman sometimes loving that man who needs so much love is hard but see him as arriving.. Why? Today I hear more men say… I have full custody of my baby… insert son and alot more in my world insert daughter. They breathe for these children, facing the disappointment of being not enough or not having enough in the dank aftermath of heated summers of no lemonade stands and no baseball games on shoulders of that elder likeness and those of us who live amongst the on the streets of father non-applicable to me… cuz I don’t know my daddy we know the pain of being apart of a single parent home and feel the strain of traits not owned by mommy. We are the generation of change and we are changing our outlook and we are fighting loudly with the access of technology,,,, I am proud of us regardless of these colored skin suits. And I know in the colonies of different hues lives homes broken and children hearts broken by the choices of those who are our key to lifetimes of lifelines that teach us how we think, and live and celebrate life.
SO it’s for the man arriving in your world as well, those colored life coffee, deep and brown those with layered choices with skin so bright and illuminating, those have culture built in this soil, their heritage with their land stolen… so do not be left out. Yet my fondness for these men made so much like me with deep brown skin, shadowed eyes and hearts of solid beaming gold left hidden with cavities of teflon. My little boys who have taken the stereotypes and made them enterprises, took the grid irons and concrete courts from games to headlines and fame. Those growing boys turned men with need to fight and survive instead of drive and arrive are still beating down the hot block with hearts that want to be home, want to know those kids even when they laid down to be incarcerated by women who still have the learned lesson that men leave… don’t believe, don’t grieve, left to live with pain than to have it eased. SO many days they sit with breaths caught in chest hoping to slang enough, dunk enough, take enough to be the present father and not just the donor who fertilized a egg with his seed.
Yes I want you to be the best man you can be, yet I also see the struggle and desire to aid you in knowing your worth and those small things also mean something. The desire, the attempt, the faith, the hope, the strength and the experience you both show, and provide bleed your love. As women we can nurture those strengths. Your power is in the love you feel, the meal you cook to quell the hunger, the sex you indulge in to show him the importance and need to not just your heart but your body. The love they so seldom vocalize but will always show in their resounding baritone as they ask where we have been, if the oil has been checked, how they will walk on the outside, and do their best to apply what they have never learned but know in their hearts is right. Just the fight to live will show how much many desire to not be the stagnant typed without the stereo for its never displayed how much it hurts to have to say, not applicable and does not apply when it comes to the language we can’t identify whether it be fatherly or motherly love. This community of strength taught to survive… we need to learn how to thrive, be our own resource of love… Move away from the belief that we must be the dog that dined on the dog of circumstance. Must unite if you want to fight and win.
A generation passed full of daddy’s rolling by home home to collect stones they were made to believed were jewels…NO HOME IS WITHOUT IT”S STRUGGLE… and no parent meant to create and mold life alone. These men are a special breed, descendents of man made Achilles heels, robbed of identity, used as common artillery, bred to do the work of building empires of which they could not call home and while slavery had died on the dark hot tar we call pavement… it has already been paved and if not actively fought will remain submerged in hate.
No this is not about slavery for we are each free. wanting to make a loud noise in the sake of revolution to be another block of words strung together about being the victim looking on to the inside with too much fear, too much pride and just enough anger to be forced to grow. I am a woman among many women with matching skin id’s and similar history, The women who love these black men, lets us the be their place of love make his house his home so he leave behind his spot, his crib , make our homes kingdoms. Not with things but with those jewels of love… we call them support, trust, forgiveness, loyalty, kindness, tolerance and self control. Let us use our action of physical love with fortitude and and be the woman who sees his heart and chooses it above all. Yes we women have pains and hurts, yet me make the time whether right or wrong to sing our song, some constant singing his wrongs. Each replay comes with a fine of his worth, and time for he sees your pain and despite what all continue to think… a man in love with a woman in love with him… is not afraid to speak freely when she wears her priceless jewels daily and shows him the ultimate jewel is him.
… why do you think these men stay with you even when love didn’t build that home. Even as your belittle his masculinity instead of just telling him your pain. Why do you think they are not so quick to divulge in (sorry about my language) sharing the true power of his magic wand , his sword you’re so quick to use in a scheme to shut you down.. ONce it’s been offered you no longer hold the cards… he already has part of your heart. In no way am I taking away the power of a woman, a black woman who might look something like me…
I know your pain, I know your need… and part of our want is based on that man you desire… so open your eyes and see him arriving and love him gently. Promote his power in your world, Provide a safe place for his emotional vulnerability so he may use it has the secret weapons to slay his enemies and practice love in your words, needs, and actions… Show him that even know love has its flaws and you certainly don’t take lies, abuse, or negativity. Just do it the way love would.
For the world in which he lives and struggles to be seen as a equal… befriend him… he is a man just as you… regardless of the clothes he wears, his choice of song, his difference in opinion. He is like you really the only difference is his flavor. Regardless he is arriving, from shallow graves of mis conception, perception , and infectious outbreaks of humanity and their ignorant thinking.
It’s been a while since I have given a glimpse to me and my world of defining the duality. I have abandoned the drive of love of life for the love of a man and as if the light extended beyond reason…. I decided to abandon love for a man for the love of me and the feeling complete understanding seemed to settle over me and now I smile from within. This is a true testimony to love in the rarest of forms. I as I stated in my profile am a creative soul who has over estimated the true worth of my love for the common goal of an artist. To evoke and touch the spirit of the heart and the means of positive to people. I have been on a long journey of finding the truth of life and I know a lot of people say that’s no job. Yet really if you look closer at your television, listen intently to the lyrics of your favorite song, you will find that it is the purpose of a lot of the creative souls out there. I believe that if you to are an artist that you understand the journey in which I speak. It takes a different kind of person to be loud in the ways of quiet. Unique in the arms of conformity and clever with wit in the mind of the mundane. You would believe that no one person has the right to speak up and out loud and without the acceptance of the mass thought. It is not easy embracing your wrongs and idolizing your rights. It’s even harder to live with the scrutiny of the world’s eyes. Yet there are so many that do it. In the quiet of their privacy, they may cry and feel the shocks of insecurity hoping that your view of them is the positive kind. Well I have been in that dim unlit room of uncertainty and will live their the majority of my life on earth. Yet the beaming sound of today I tried will viel many days and cross the threshold of radical rebellious soldier for the life of change and different. I want to talk about self branding and love of the common man and the journey of the ordinary leper. I want to hear about the you in the world that people are so quick to hide to avoid the vulnerability of truth and acceptance. The want is just the start. If we want to be more than we are, then who is to say that you can;t be that more, that better that success of your day dreams and waking fantasies. I can be mine and I will be, who wants to be on the road to better, to take a closer glimpse at the impossible. Separate you fro defeat and you get the same letters, the same order… you just stand between the two and be the star and fan of the combination of your self. embrace your power to believe first in yourself. Right after God, you are the only sure thing in this world for you. I am learning that with an open heart. Embrace love…. detest negative and I can’t.