Tag Archives: politics

Absence , Yours Held Me

in the mirror I see you,

their in the slant of my eyes

at your featured cleft copied to my chin

Can’t escape the you that’s is the beginning to my core

can’t take away from the four

identifying marks that label me yours

you aversion to love, you abuse of truth

I can’t escape which I was dervived of

Can’t erase what I arrived from

All of it a part of me

even the dark dingy parts that make me want to resists myself

violently, denying any parts of you reside within

as much as I want to use the word hate to combat the lack of love shown

with each hurt feeling bruise of your lack of action , I have grown

I know I can’t change you but use you as a propelled in flesh example of what not to be

you see even in the pain, wet from tears pouring like rain

those portals of rain became the chain of links that left me with truth

disappointment of desire to have arms circled around my misunderstanding

taught the lesson that even those issued jobs of caring won’t care if God is not present in their intent

to some extinct

the sadness has become pity

A sentence of infinity deadbolt locked to life, here in this hell fell beyond heaven

left to atmospheric us humans inside deep the soul lives

I know this life is to come to a close at some point

i feel the truth of humanity, the gift of this human suit made of leather repairing skin

which is done right one time will show that its all about appreaciation

appreciating the bad days along with the good


Your home as gritty as ghetto’s with shot soaring through the quiet nights

My hood no different, just without the sadness of others the binding of brothers by gangs

no rising brotherhood connecting me to sentimentality of feeling no my hood was small, just two you and I

as i began down the path of streets beat to avoid your face

my never dying disgrace to you lips

your taste for me had me stripped fom the seasoned food of my truth

Soon I would find out that your hood, your dynasty of control

was trully hood… it was a exit exam for elementary thought and enabled mind

so many of peers owned.. yes it was a hood of divinity and it expelled the weak and ignorant and built intelligent sympathetic warriors see Hood.. Was Heaven’s opportunity for me offerinig definitive characterstics.

A suburbian home of midlife love comfortable and daily the same

does not build believers of fight

Believers in the right of the common good

I did grow hurt and I did deter from the roads that others will call right

yet warriors training gladiators don’t come from homes of lies so perfect they feel like truth

with perfect youth tales all surface no lessons of shame, or eyes of change

A later in life successors comes fom the experience of life unpopular by popular belief

if smiles were not made to be appreaciated from previously understated or underrated

melodic sighs of relief

that I would be just a spoiled doll girl like so many peers still lost in the formindable years when me was all that could be heard fom their wanting lips

Those girls who played with the rounded grounds of attraction, firm booties, high titties and the  ability to just get without work

So I must say thank you for your damaging ways,  selfish days never producing conversations of my little lady warnings

the exception is “don’t be like me regretting babies wishing i was some other place other than here

The direct consequence is my eloquence,

my heartbeat strong, my fear only a motivation

my denying of mediocrity , my journey on a road to beliefs untaught by your presence inbred by your absentee parenting

Now I look over at my paiin and it seems so lame in compariion to what it is your feeling or hiding.This time I must admit

not so different fom you so confused and immersed in me

With the revision of faith and the appearence of belief, the admission of guilt

the action of accountability

My path now changed taking roads chosen by instinct, lesson learned consequence simple

when roads of right. treated quoted to our young learning,  one of the few truth from that

basic instructions before leaving earth booklet,

some learned before idea is first person, the bible

use it, to conform, read it for summation noy literal be valued for lesson as seen in, experienced shared i

this statement earned number lesson, how you retrieve the most abundant of blessings

treat those who your connection in all things as you have to you

powerful, but simple in its explanation no need for interruption

no belief, no movement, no revolution will differ in it’s exploration or delivery

it simply knows nothing of experience or sensation

for those not with words so pretty, it’s easy no detail

not doing what I don’t want relayed to me

Its alot heavy yet,

Yet, so easy to carry,

Unlike that wrong which was lite, difficult to carry

infectious consequences side effect crippling

Manipulating the mind,

Deliberate retreats to sell illusions, graphic delusions,

I resist this I won’t apply, your inability to to look outside I

Yet, me the I inside is the only 3Ye used to see, speak, or feel,

I do not have to apply those learned behaviors

Instead, ideal earned by nurturing the difference I see

So I click back, Undo, the application permissions,

hating me for hating the you in me

i forgive my reflection for it’s likeness to you

yet if I forget to trust that raw inner feeling

test ahead for faith, notification

I find the beauty of letting go and letting GOd.

He made me of you so I could take care of you

so I might as well take the express train to acceptance

your never going to change

That story is gone so old , its time to start a new book, a new story

a new page



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Filed under a rant of love, change, Choices, desire, destiny, Emotion, gratitude, growth, influences, life, love, relationships, The Me Files, Uncategorized, women, you

willing to be………

willing to be the rarity in the mist

a uniformed society is never a battle uncomplicated

Never easy to explain,

why because a rarity is cost and the  reason for home land security

riddled undocumented truths that don’t hide behind black out inked

I am rarely the rarity that will appear on the mainstream news

locked behind journalist divulging the skills of in battle synpers

female ingenuity  battling for the likeness of unity

Yes likeness because whiteness is lost in blackness and blackness is seen as unpure

unsure of what I mean look beyond what is shown to what is unseen

locked in the foreground of words meant to confuse

with the confusion you will upgrade to the next version which is suppose to be the stupid down verision of the same which is something to which we know the name

propaganda the definition in two lessons never complete the reason for doubt in the claim

one sided information that is proposed or posed as truth

fed to the youth in the simlac that seperates mother from child,

brain devolopment remain unstatistized or verbalized less

Willing to be the pioneer, the  renegade, the bitch by name at least in the accordance to the media

The evangelist fanatical truth slayers, bomb layers, fear traders,

trading faith for fear,

selling you use of dreams to rip humanity from the seems of outsourced makers, even the sweet cakes have become homegrown outsourced bakers

Willing to be political for the point of history at which we stand when really life isn’t about this land

power or a the fight for resources of resource to one instead of another

resourcefully using resource is the source of creation

built nations and families for man (all) only different on the surfaces bearing resemblance of his climate not his intent, we were intimate before we were so different

Now that  conviction sick left to the old dying, watching bold be replaced with cold

where is our resilence to conformity

yet bleeding lips of judgement loud and dynamnic in naming the abnormalities

when it states it’s true desire within its components a, b, normal I ties

did you see that  the (A)and the (B) normally is how I ties to it’s community

it’s not normal for us to concieve of negativity yet it’s bred in our learning

taught with knowing, the ability to ignite old embers of hate

to give breath to past, history

sold version of his story

free gift of manipulation

I am no more worthy of this than you

to be the subjection of mental invasion

Someone has to go first

no stay you fathers, true dads cradling your childrens head

stay you mothers keep quietly you fight

for I am

willing to be the enigma, the insane uncooperative “problem child” who speaks to loud

stands out for love

will not allow you to believe I can be sold,

will not fold

will be the sacrifice

will allow myself to carry the load of revealing my soul

left out to be a documented amusement


fueled to hate

it’s not to much for me to consume

that pain you leave on the dessert tray

my plate has no weight

Without your pain that needs to be slain and released from your shoulders

Prior loud uncooperative’s, were the weapons used

so you could openly choose option abused

the hate they sell in those dreams that look like faith

using fear to get you to load  your plate with empty calories

no integrity to use for defense

no nutrients of living

no ripe natural sweetness to stain your lips with memories of positivity

selling you a dream you gladly buy

signed on the line to the creditor of living in the life by way of speech not heard on your lips

Found carried by women heavy memories of human beginnings on full hips

in between poisioned sips of as seen per the speculated

It’s bitter taste of previously remastered leaves me hungry

I am willing to be the rarity

go unfed until here authenticated is labeled

so you may close your eyes to the sounds of  ambiguity,

you now sold and selling the same untruth

You might do the crime

but I am willing to be the imprisoned, the persecuted,

electrocuted happy for  reviving pain

willing to be in the eyes of normal weird a living a and b tieing it self to normality

I took the bid so you could leave uncertainity, worries

I will do the time

be it’s bomb strapped to it’s core

i am willing to denate the ability to be heard,

the bomb of recognition, the human matyr of submission

willing to be rare,

willing to be fair,

willing to care,

willing to forfeit popularity

for truth, love, and sincerity

so you don’t have to

what are you willing to do..

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July 4, 2012 · 1:29 am

Channel 3 News: Love Seen After Release


If eternities can be seen with these same eyes
Knowledge of this active living
It would be seen
the trips we have met
each life time our paths crossing
heart beats heard in tandem
days of souls meshed
nights of desire
heated in passion, fire
dreams realized over infinite scopes of time
in the active history
not found reason
no rhyme
lost lips relentless
feelings immense
Its affinity

Its capable,
that impossible
lived before
in the heart of exceptional minds
dated, chronicled the words
in elevated suspension
It’s heaven’s door
most desired
and defined
in the living lifetime
for one to see it in the others of another
can call it love
drug induced rantings of minds gone
mentally insane
is what is said
yet did those men lie in beds
marked by nothing known to the commonality
of the immensity of redemption
or love
for none
simple, definitive or more true
earth defied and constantly applied
are these things
each create miracles, tap down beats and then sing
the heart
the part so intricate to the action of life
pumping this delicate warming liquid disinfectant
the blood is the cure
so pure
when untouched by hate
the bait of those that kill
no less real
than the fact that love is what heals
It blossoms by the dark of night and shines and changes things
in the purity of light
It fights, it feeds,
merges to create new seeds

Again the cycle goes
another creation, a new part
in the art
you find the tune
given by these catalyst of original thought
each saying the same
each tell the play that wins the game
yet deaf we are to the calls
that resounds through the dank and open skies
left to minds asking the hows the whys
just to defy the heart
that is speaking, healing, thriving
never does it survive instead it just dies
If these eyes could see the life in which we lived before

maybe I would trust you more
be consistent in my truth
for no fear would penetrate the silence so loudly
no body entice the desire so profoundly
only you or if not
then left empty
yet simply my eyes do not see only my heart
and its a warrior of the army
it’s leader undefeatable, unpenetrable, unkillable, a king
the entity of all beings
sees, holds and plays all the cards
not for return or profit
just intent
of choice
for voice
if in those lifetimes the half of this whole is behind those eyes
it can be a thousand days without you
a thousand others you choose
for you would still be incomplete
a feeling of lost still nipping at f your need
to bleed
for it would be the pain you feel
that makes it feel real
not that unexplained
connection, undeliberate affection
or detection of a life renewed
no trial, no search for truth

my truth already seen, no need to seek what is found
our ashes to ashes, our dust to dust
this lifetime it seems may be harder than the others lived
for at first sight I new in this life you lived
the signs were loud bold and unable to be hid
no true memory of you did
the thing needed to be done
yet on sight the activation had started
So God bless…

To those others that we dearly
and sincerely loved yet still departed

To love across the scopes of time
no reason true
no rhyme defined
unless the belief is true….. LOVE DOES NOT EXIST
Case closed
evidence suggest
Beyond reasonable doubt
that love exist by means of probable cause and testimony
penalty of perjury
the united decision of the jury,
an objective party of peers
that it does indeed exist
So let us all raise hands that now sits on laps, hangs at sides
to display balled fist
to what can not be defined, but clearly seen

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The Arriving Man

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.

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Filed under a rant of love, change, desire, Emotion, evolution, motivation, opportunity, pain, Positivity, preception, relationships

Truth in the Untruth

They call it spit

when a poet, hits the mike giving the gift of their spirit

I call that truth

they call it truth

when they use the proganda of experiece to to influence the youth

of our thoughts and belief

the mind accustomed to the grief

of lacking honesty in the communication of the “NEWS”

so lost in the blues

of money lacking, domain hacking

and subtracting our part in the history we create

Let us contemplate

the different hues of our industrial money making systems

and the role we play

in the delay of better living

the misgiving

that “we  are not the powers that be”

that shit don’t have nothing to do with me

I did not shoot the gun that killed those innocent women, men and children

to whom we have conquered in the pursuit of the resoucres

if not you, then who are the sources

of this human pain

what reign

of terror is to pay

the fines of life?

The wife?

Thousand of women who lose their men to fight the wars

that we endure

on the soil of their physicality

the guilt of our mentality

At least mine

My mind see’s with the eye  of my heart

and  the souls lost to greed superceed

the  “NEWS” called truth they tell to me

the untruth lives in the youth of so many of our thoughts

slavery was not reserved for the colored past, it last

now it’s an enslavement of mind

all the things that we forget are real

The deal, the deals made in the back rooms of justice

brothers killing brothers, mothers lost to demented intentions

minds sacrificing love, the untruth in the truth

that c hildren are their human extentions

added on to their fate,

after they breathe the first air of life, it’s to late

to save them….from this  battleground, earth we call living

the terrorist  we call Media, help to dull your active consciousness

The viewers of their demolition the average American continues

to ignore

The acts of terror, the war we live right at home, we willingly submit to

their hypnosis

I aked before

What side to you represent?

Who do you answer to?

What are these soldiers fighting for?

what truth do you promote?

What will be  left in the sleeve of your book? What note?

Have you stopped to take a look?

At the reflection that looks so much like you

I am American

many are so proud to yell

yet the hearts, respect and understanding of foreign tongues, repel

Snare noses in disgust

Instead of embracing the truth in the untruth

that they haters, maybe they are emancipators

Maybe the truth is that look in their eyes

Hoping to free you with there glances of disgust

Disquising the pity they feel

not not hate,

the truth is real

that we have the power of love, which has the power to heal

We are the doimoineering hands of catastrophe

A bully

that agregious, infectious conqueror

Being a bully is the rust that conjures and deposits it’s ugly on that shine

that once represented beauty

on that cent called penny

that shone love when collected and created many

those pennies of love, of beauty don’t exist when

they are stolen by  hands of tyranny

The infantry the followers of cowardice

the digust worn by the forlorn, born of the bitter

after taste of the dinner served by the executioner

we americans travel to their side to possess the experience of their

towers of eiffel, their beaches of black sand, their epic wonders identified

by books in stores, the creations of their influence that dress the manniquens on

show floors.

Mentally we have subtracted our minds from the crimes

of our heichary, yet we ridicule the monarchary

when at least the choices are made, set and confirmed their in that home of royalty

the loyalty

displayed to the people in which they rule

are not just rules set and enforced

their is no divorce of leader and people

no document read in city hall

Leaving the conjuctions to blacked out statements leveled “Classified”

Right in your face

they are marking you infintile. yelling outloud “KNOW YOUR PLACE”

The fight is not about the tent of your skin, the difference in the culture… it has nothing to do with race

When will you educate your mind, through the eyes of of your heart,

leave behind the infantry of “it don’t effect me”

What truth do you promote? Are you fine being fed the untruth when the truth is there

for you to engage and spread, be a leader, don’t be led

evacuate your mind of impressioned thought

Shake free of the hypnosis of the news

instead of singing, living, and engaging these blues

that with each view, is stealing the individual in you

Be the truth in the untruth of the land in which we reside

show those ignorant to the American way

That the way of that reflection you call American is walking the path of true freedom

The freedom to love, the freedom to fight for what is truth in the youth of their perception

Allow your intention to be the active movement for change… by making the label of American

Live up to the address back in Gettysburg that states that each man be treated equally

those men are not just the ones born of this continent , man is the kind

we all can check on the application of life

Freedom would include the truth in the truth, not the truth in the untruth

Not the moderated, edited version of the NEWS

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Filed under It's My Dream, The World

I love….Humanity or Democracy


A fined tooth comb,

surpassing the tangles of bullshit being fed to me

knotting my mind into dreads of dirty, filtered information

a substation of thought, logic

thought to be nothing more than a weaved wonder of false truth

that’s not me, to this government I shout


selling me a prograndic type aversion to the marked “classified”

We the people need to break these barriars we call cultural differeces, and begin to stand unified

Deep beneath the tanned brown of my skin and the creamy white of yours pumps blood that is so very similar

in color, it may be exactly the same

Regardless of last name

each we  are pawns, in this game

we are not living,

just conforming

voting for the next brand “face”

we call a president

hasn’t it not become evident

as we lose our kindness to need

forsake the flowers of love, our seeds

we lose life by hands of each other

no longer a family of humanity

as if we don’t all bleed

from the scars of disdain

as we see the chemtrails

fill our skies

and decide with a quiet tongue to not ask the questions of complete truth

No longer naive to the democracy of idiocracy

Simplicity is but a gift to the imprisioned mind

we are of another kind

we are of the complicated design

or at least “I”

the justice of pain

is covered in temperatures of dialects that continue to arise

here in this land of the free

where the only truth is the lot of wealth that you can display

nothing here is free, just your soul

which for the right amout of fame

many of you well sell

then yell each day in pain as your mark of the devil screams from the angels

not blind to you

what did you do, what was the sacrifice

to no longer struggle for the beauty of these lands

In the night my eyes open wide, bright with out the covering of the lies

without the voice of the conformed entity

Don’t lose your thoughts to the hypnotized, modified version of the current events

no event that is at the for front of your vision is based on the bottom line

shut the fuck up america

pay the fine

give us that last dime

don’t speak

don’t think

you are the mine in the battlefield

yield to the dollar

stop at the cent

the division of love is at the cost of our home in  heaven

count back from ten then stop at seven

and that percent

is not even the amout of truth told with the camera’s tracking movement

not for the safety yet the control of the whole

I fight no man for the resource created by the land

who are the real terroist in the nation of your understanding

holding at gun point the belief of love

so many slain

their shoulders just shrug

when wives fall to the floor buckling in pain

we live in emotional tierney

for this physical democracy where we have the ability to choose

not the laws, not the justice

just the face we call leader, we believe can make change



give the endorser of the money makers endorsement our nation a prettier face

regardless of race

he is not the movement of the bills that go past as you sleep

the underground shelters built

while we prepare for homeland wars

open the doors to your mind

and choose the battle in which you want to fight

for your currency or what is right

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Filed under The World