Freedom is a SHE

She glistened
with crystal clarity
and glided
like sleet,
at the soles of her feet.
I looked her direction
she looked to me for directions
I shared my perspective
she glared for a second
my tongue swelled like a sponge full of water
I swallowed hard like a desperate throat in the desert
words in my mind splayed like spaghetti-O letters
I tried to connect them
I saw two consonants and one vowel
I panicked, hoping to leave a good impression
before she leaves her shoe print impressions
not being able to offer her more than what she was looking for
“Eyb!” is what I rushed out of my stammering lips
she looked at me,
dumbfounded
I realized my mistake, cleared the white noise in my head
and descrambled the letters and mustered a
“Bye”
but she had already turned
well within her definite gait,
I doubt she heard me as she walked away
but I heard her,
shoes clacking, as she closed the gate
FREEDOM,
she always looks so good up close,
even better farther away.
but she’ll be back…hopefully

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Go(o)d Looking

“Go(o)d Looking”

I heard God was looking for me
I laughed
then retorted back,
“God created me right?
he knows where to find me.”
He put me in prison
I’m still here, even after I’ve repented
as far as I’m concerned, Good riddens
how can he lose sight of His children
especially me, I been through so much in plain sight, I was never hidden
isn’t he supposed to have this “all seeing” vision
now when I read the Bible, I feel like a critic
I don’t get it
questioning the credibility of every story that was written
and the reason why some just happen to be missin’
especially the mental state of the people that did it
calling themselves Catholics or Christians
different denominations?! I’ve been a denominator dominated because my skin is tinted
now I’m supposed to submit to His agenda
when I almost lost my life, where was His antennas?
where was he at every December on Christmas?
Christian Dior, or Christian Brothers, before I’m Christened or a Christian
and I’m the one that has to give forgiveness?
first He was vengeful, but “now” He “forgives” us?
for what? placing me in a pit of cobras spitting venom
its going on 7years in khaki’s, I missed the feel of denim
convenient, He’d be the reason for Good, and not the ‘evil’ sinners
bet if I listened to the New tes…damn, I wouldn’t be here to begin with
or maybe I would, I won’t lie, ever since I been in prison
I’ve been more willing
I was mad, I admit it
but cut off from distractions, I started building a friendship
that made an indent manifesting into a kinship
I wasn’t innocent
I was spiritually indigent
but I made amendments
I was conflicted
that got me convicted
but now I’m convinced with conviction
feeling of use, able to view the blueprint of what He has intended
call it purpose? In giving me all this pain upon my surface to contend with
with a cluster of talents perfectly blended
to talk with the next person that hears the name of God and gets offended
and tell them, hold up wait a minute
before you finish that sentence
God has been looking for you-
and though he can see you, he can’t find your heart if you keep it hidden
you’re not a victim
cut out the noise, and listen
and you’ll find that piece that leads to peace that you’ve been missin’
is key to your mission
now when God sees you, you’re in sync with His vision
and He doesn’t have to ask you, “who is it”
time isn’t your sentence
your pain isn’t your prison
it leads to your promise, purpose, and perdition
God offers a detour to every road driven
before your collision
but our own decisions are the very things blocking His vision
GOoD is Looking

Momma! You out now!

Momma you out now!
I have a secret…I’ve always loved you, but have always been ashamed of you. Maybe it was since I’ve never been comfortable completely with myself and my story, then naturally, it was too hard to embrace your part in it when speaking to others. I mean how would I do that? Giving all that information of myself and you, yet feeling like I had nothing good enough to offer up about myself or you, unless someone knew me well, so I felt all I’d be doing is just giving people even more to see me as less. I felt toxic, broken, tainted,..no contagious, yea, I felt like knowing me and getting too close would infect people. And we all have enough that we regret and to be sad about right that? So why add my confusion on top? I always spoke of your love, never your past or your path, but of your passion. Your love was always like some kind of serum or elixir that I never understood but it was magnetic and I seemed that love, because I never found that type of heightened raw and boundless love. And so, its how I knew and learned how to love, by admiring yours from a distance and up close at those rare moments we were in each others lives, I always felt understood and accepted by you, like you knew a me that I hadn’t discovered or found worth in. The flaw in your love was that I tried even to this day to copy it and offer it to people that didn’t deserve that kind of love and all it did was serve to further break me down. Loving the wrong people does that..it was like a revolving circle, because your love broke me down too. Because I couldn’t have it as much as I needed it, so I chased it in women and friendships! I craved acceptance and boundless bonds, but most never understood my passion depth leaps and bounds, because most people never experienced raw love like that, but I did and I thank you for that, because I never questioned your love and how many can say that about anyone?! I know why and how I’m strong, because I am in awe of your strength fight and hope…just as people get confused by me, I used to get confused by how can you experience so much dark yet speak so much of light as if it was all going to be alright? It never made sense, but I always knew that there was always another level of contentment that I could aspire to even in the midst of my pain and darkness. Even the ways you’d speak of feeling when I was going through things, and I was, even denying it, it spooked me hearing how you knew. Being so distant yet you still were so connected to my heart and spirit. I never believed in things like that, but I used to pillow talk to my girlfriends about you like you were some kind of savant. I’m not proud to admit this, but there’s been times I’ve wanted to turn off the lights forever…even during this time, I guess I don’t speak of it a lot thinking I can always over power my experiences by wiping them from my memory but you always remember. Every time, date, admission and all as if it was some dark holiday and you’d give me this sense of everything will be alright, sometimes with and without all that cliché holy spiritual motivational talk, but mostly with your love language which I’m convinced is a language all on its own. Even now…mom, even now sometimes I wonder about the dark, but somehow through your darkest moments, you made it through. I vaguely remember these stories you tell me about how you used to talk to me when it was just you and I, a bond built from within your belly sitting beneath your broken heart, hearing its anxious rhythms I suppose kind of gave me an ear for the pain of others. There’s so much good that you have done that just can’t be seen and only is felt or maybe just heard, but how could I explain that? You’d sound like an alien, because connections love and perseverance like yours is sadly foreign. And all your mistakes were right thick on the surface, just as deep as everyone else, for all to see…so I figured that I’d just keep my personal business to myself. Even now I have that habit of controlling how much of my personal business is known, yet I can speak freely to everyone of their own situations. It just seems safer that way, not feeling like I may have to cringe expecting certain reactions if I ever spoke my whole truth, which at times I don’t even feel like I know. I’ve repressed so many things that I can’t stay present for one second without trying to make it to the next, not dealing became a way of life. And I put you in that “not dealing” category..it made sense to me, sometimes even now it still makes sense. I know I’m not the only one that hides, but the problem is that I’ve also hidden. Sometimes not even knowing how to show you affection up close from being so guarded internally for so long, even though I loved you, I guess I just didn’t know exactly how to be a son. Its something I’m getting used to, I felt more in control wanting to keep us at an even level as friends and preferring you just view me as a grown man, as if keeping emotions under control would keep things more clear and less messy. I struggle a lot with letting go of control of how much I let people get in, and what they know about me once they are in, and you shouldn’t be one of those people. And I’m sorry for that. The silly things we do to protect ourselves by keeping others at arms length, but how else do we survive. I never understood that I had been spending most of my life just surviving, staying closed off and being numb, only choosing to feel within fleeting moments of relationships to keep from losing another thing I had no idea how to keep since it wasn’t a thing to be controlled. But I guess the only way to change a pattern is to force yourself into the other direction. I found too many comforts in things that only hurt me in the long run, ironically, coping was also self defeating sometimes. But I’m end this by just saying that I love you #1, I’m proud of you and can’t wait to explore this new chapter. Your love strength and hope inspires me.

Don’t give me your Sympathy

“don’t give me your sympathy”
I’ve never been one for sympathy
please, don’t give me your sympathy
shit, I barely hold together pieces of my fractured memory
meanwhile grasping for any semblance of an identity
at peace with me and emptiness manifesting so much symmetry
darkness lives deep with infamy
even now and back since infancy
hope vaguely scratched the surface like emery
love came and went with incandescent yet inconsistent energy
I’ve been chasing happiness that only fulfills me instantly
but its opposing force latched onto my soul like an entity
now loved ones turned to enemies
paranoia of possible enmity eerily nearing my vicinity
God give serenity!
insecurities veers me from your trinity
but at least I pray with sincerity
it’s just that this life came with a room full of consequential amenities
and all I’ve gotten for it is bear essential proclivities
with my conflicting affinities
spewing a slew of obscenities
because every bond came with a share of penalties
I never understood life period, until I got run-on sentences at my sentencing
I smiled at that rejection, I’ve grown accustomed to our synergy
a vacation away from expectations, that only ever hindered me
believing I needed to live up physically, jaded me mentally
and I found respite chasing my opposites, convinced it meant chemistry
because that’s where attraction lies right?
searching for life ironically resulted in me feeling like I’ve died twice
I can barely walk in my own shoes, that’s why I keep them tied tight
but objects in the mirror appear closer than they are, though in hindsight
it’s been years since I’ve been able to relax my eyesight
because enemies or my wretched past creep up from my blind side
reminiscing those moments I told the mirror that you may die tonight
by my own hands, or in the midst of a riot, or fight, in the line of fire, after past failures from trying the hype of my might
I’m a great thinker, but I never failed with these hands
forgetting its the fingers that build, but the mind that makes the plans
believing my body of work, and the body’s I hurt, is what made the man
then inside me had burst, so my mind put in work, which gave me a chance
to pick back up, and piece together those fractured bits of memory-
that I repressed from my surface and brought with me inside this penitentiary
building on those broken ‘periods’ in life that sentenced me, to this run-on sentencing
now through righting my wrongs, I heal while writing my poems, which led me to the rites I find scribed as my identity
naw, I never been one to ask for sympathy
but after living through all that I have, I count it a blessing being able to develop empathy
I have a savior I savor, so save your sinister sympathy
use it for someone worse off, I’m better now, and I rather take back power of, how you remember me

“no excuses”
I was abused, I became an abuser…no excuses
I was confused, and became a confusion…no excuses
I believed my delusions, and became an illusion…no excuses
I wasn’t included, and felt love was intrusive…no excuses
I couldn’t remain lucid, I felt I would lose it…no excuses
my pride cup half full, I remained drunkenly foolish…no excuses
I…fuck it, you get it right? No excuses!

“disciple”
I clinged to a, gang for survival
til I, became my survival
I was a, gangsta disciple
now my, gangsta’s discipled
by the, change I decided
I became the, change I provided
I got, game from the Bible
turned the, page in the Bible
provided a, way for revival
spiked a, wave in my vitals
spite was, a way for denial
I was, estranged to the Bible
but there’s no, chains in the Bible
though I’m, a gangsta disciple
Jesus, came with disciples
I speak to, pain and our trials
because every, gangsta’s a child
living through, anger and clouds
so I’m more than a, gangsta disciple
but I have to, disciple the gangstas
because they aren’t, rivals or strangers
they’re just, looking for angels
so I, disciple the dangerous
and dedicate my, life to the shameful
and to the, blamed and disabled
not just offering a, cane to the able
but also a, way for the strangled

Ladies and Gentleman, Boooyyysss and Girrrrlsss, Bear witness the 9th Wonder of The World, The Most Profitable and Replicated Kingdom In The History of Mankind, The Biggest and Most Inclusive Republic in The World! Complete with endless amenities, from Bed and linens, to sink and toilet, within the same room, from spouting low water pressure showers with both hot and cold options, to microwaves, paid cable, on site library, school, laundry, gym and dining with three free meals of no choice and pop machines, on site jobs and it’s complete with the Lowest grade of healthcare in the U.S., but it’s free! And in this Mighty Gladiator Arena, where mistakes are legend, and in your Own Mind, you can be Anything, except free! That’s right! I’m sure you’ve guessed it! So without further ado, I give you…(drumroll) PRISON! Where dreams are buried like treasure and numbers are people, the more the merrier! No need to wait, Free Admission For All! None exempt, so Step Right Up! You’ll never forget this experience! Plus, what’s a life without regrets anyway?! YOLO! So live a little, come and enjoy the most exclusive Country Club! Pocket size don’t matter here! Though we thrive in low-income occupants, buuut every now and again, we entertain the uppity also! Life never stops, but here, we pause it or slow it down a little for you! Compliments of the State! Here, you are preserved, drowning in self reflection by the minute! If you dont have it all or enough, what more do you have to lose?! If life is too much, come on in, get some R&R! We’re all invisible here! Room windows are just tall and wide enough for you to be on display for hourly onlookers. Shhh, On the Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy clicked her heels three times, saying, “there’s no place like home” guess what?! She was envisioning this, Prison! A True Home To All!

Heart on My Sleeve

“Heart On My Sleeve”

I wear my heart on my sleeves
so I guess my shirt implies what I can put up with today
I wear my heart on my sleeves
my biggest decision every morning is which shirt will put my heart on display
I wear my heart on my sleeves
and being this transparent, its hard finding a shirt to match
I wear my heart on my sleeves
so the colors reflect my emotional state, like a mood ring as a matter of fact
I wear my heart on my sleeves
now the next decision is the length of sleeves and will I dress down
I wear my heart on my sleeves
long sleeves are lively and have more room for love and let downs
I wear my heart on my sleeves
mid sleeves are anxious and bear the angst from recent frustrations
I wear my heart on my sleeves
short sleeves leave no room for heart ache and agitation
I wear my heart on my sleeves
and if I have no shirt….well at least you know
I wear my heart on my sleeves
so if you see no sleeves, Just.Leave.Me.Alone
To me, style has always been about bringing attention to how I feel
Needless to say, but my look says it all-I’m.In.Khakis! Where’s the appeal?!
but I’ll say it out loud if I have to, so there’s no room left for doubt
I wear my heart out, my outfit wears me thin, and so My Heart Is Worn Out
So I wear my heart on my sleeves,
like there’s anywhere else to put it..

“behind my eyelids”

I hate the movies that reel,
behind my eyelids
they always depict how I feel,
behind my eyelids
they always play what I conceal,
behind my eyelids
pain journeys beyond my shield,
behind my eyelids
hidden scars tear at my veil,
behind my eyelids
issues become too many to deal,
behind my eyelids
so many things I wish I could kill,
behind my eyelids
life seems too real,
behind my eyelids
my breath gets caught as my layers unpeel,
behind my eyelids
because the things I see gives me the chills,
behind my eyelids
honestly I’m too far from healed,
behind my eyelids
and I can’t take the truth revealed,
behind my eyelids
I rather you see the color in my eyes,
then the story they tell-
but if you look too deeply, you’ll see dark secrets,
so my sunglasses keep people and light repelled-
because I’m ok with you knowing me,
just not with you knowing me well-
even I’m shaken by the facts of myself,
and fear that you’ll see what I see, a living hell-

“truth”

does my truth unearth your lies?
does my truth highlight what you hide?
does my truth cut your pride?
does my truth blacken your eyes?
does my truth embolden your truth?
does my truth help you face ‘you’?
does my truth help you stay true?
or does my truth pain you?
does my truth paint you?
what color?
does my truth shade you?
how dark?
does my truth pave you?
how smooth?
does my truth fade you?
how clear?
does my truth phase you?
how long?
does my truth frame you?
what pose?
does my truth shame you?
how so?
does my truth name you?
what? why? how? when? where?
does it matter the context of truth?
does it matter when truth is given?
is truth a freedom, or a prison?
is truth forbidden, or forgiven?
is truth blind, if not, then with what color eyes?
you see where I am, you see more of my truth.
but how many see you?
do you see you?
then what do you see?
is that the truth? really?
if not, then worry less of mine
until you find yours and can face it freely
knowing others see it
yet you embrace it proud as skin
because truth is beautiful

“hatelovedislikeyou”

I hate you, why shouldn’t I?
why shouldn’t you, hate me too?
why shouldn’t we, hate eachother?
love is just as strong a word as hate
why can’t we admit that love is Nothing… without hate!
so I hate you!
and I hate me!
and you hate me!
and you hate you!
and we hate us!
and we hate them!
and they hate us!
but there’s no hate… if there’s no love?
so we just love, love, love, and love so strong
even though when we love, love, love, we love wrong
but so what?!
because if we don’t fight
then love, is just ‘like’
and what is love like, if love is really like?
well if love is like, then there’s no hate
because like, is too weak to hate
so dislike replaces hate
and I feel that’s more true than saying, I hate you!
because hate and love aren’t real
we use them too much, how can it be special?
but like and dislike, is real
hate is just a strong emotion, it lies, its impulsive-like us
and it’s is never taken serious
and we’re never taken serious
and you never take me serious
and I never take you serious, let you tell it..
but dislike is feeling-it takes thought, and somehow is less casual-unlike us
so its respected more
and you don’t respect me enough
and I don’t respect you enough, let you tell it..
love isn’t taken serious anymore
love, you don’t take me serious anymore
love, I don’t take you serious anymore, let you tell it..
we aren’t hateful
but I don’t know why we say hate for
hate what? hate why? I hate your ” “!
love is exploitive
hate is expletive
love and hate is abuse, where we exploit expletives
like is efficient
dislike is business
like and dislike are careers
and we aren’t successful
we’re still young, but damn, act your age!
“shut up, I hate you!”
..see what I mean?
“you’re right, I don’t like this anymore”
that’s strange, I believe you
“I’m sorry, I’m leaving”
no wait, comeback, I love you!
“don’t say shit you dont mean, you just like the idea, should’ve told me you liked me, I’d have stayed I think…goodbye”
go then! I’m good without you! I hate you!
“no I hate you! that’s why I’m leaving!”
I don’t care, I hate you!
I love you too
“I know you do”
let’s start over
“with what? like?”
yea, I like that idea, do you?
“yea, I dislike the thought of losing you”
I believe you
“I’ll never lie..on purpose”
than never say hate
“only if you never say love”
I love you 😛
😉 “I love you too, can’t help can we?”
its just a word
“until you believe it”
do you believe me?
“I try to”
well what shoyukd we say next?
“fuck it, on three together…”
one. “one”
two. “two”
three. “three”
“I HATE YOU!”I LOVE YOU!
hatelovedislikeyou
“huh?”
hate loved, is like you
“like us”
I love you
“Me2”

For my Boys

Feel, then Share this, matter of fact, you don’t gotta feel it, but share it! There’s many more that have this same pain and are either new to it, or have gone through it far longer than me! My son’s 10th birthday just passed by this Mother’s Day. Already being in prison, what I want most is to connect back with my son. Again, I still haven’t been able to talk to him, I don’t know what he knows or thinks of me. I haven’t seen many pictures of him, but I’m not mad. I’m hurt! I hurt like hell! I won’t get into extra detail, but this is what I want you to share. This hurts me, grown men do feel, but this won’t break me. I don’t mean that as a shot at his mom, she is still loving and providing for our son, so for that I’m happy because he still is loved, even if my love isn’t felt.
This hurt isn’t a set back, or a reason for me to get mad and hate the world, every morning I wake up and say to myself, “what if the worst happens?” and my answer is, “and still I’ll go on”. What if…the answer is, so what! Don’t let bad news break and define you. This only has tested my foundation and validated how fortified what I’m building and becoming is. But even more, this is fuel! This pain is motivation! These tears welled, and I kept them from falling, because my Will rose even higher. I’m going to work even harder to get my message out there! I’m going to build and be better every.single.day! Prison is a platform, we feel and go through everything every day. I’m going to write more, read more, speak more, pray more, believe more, listen more, lead more, and be that dad that my sons will be proud of. Seeing the effects of my rise, instead of just the cause of my fall.
So to anybody behind bars, even in life, but especially yaw in prison, take that pain and let down. Let it feed you, feed off that raw hurt and become stronger and better for it, because the real test and measure of a person down, is how they react when more bad news comes around. Don’t get tired, get activated, because pain is just reminding you that you feel, don’t hide from what you feel, because to feel means you are alive. My son may not know it, but when he does witness my life, he will see life and that I’m living. He will see light! What will your loved ones see?
Grit and Grind! Prison is a mindset, your feet may be bound and your wrists chained, but your mind is free! So until your body matches your mind, fight and become, don’t just take it and remain. I hurt even now, but it’s koo, I’m alive, and I’m not the only one going through it. Someone somewhere always has it worst, so reach out to those yaw know, because pain isn’t only felt when its spoken. Support isn’t just there when you doing good, but they understand not only when, why but also allow you to have bad days without judgement and offer their support, even if you don’t accept. (thanks Katie)
I was down Sunday, but I’m up Monday, and ready for the week..one day at a time, even when you feel weak, you’ll still make it through the week
R.U.S.S.

For my Boys-

“Drive.U.Thru”
my mom laid the road,
so I could drive through.
just as I did sons, embrace the bumps,
because they’ll drive you.
at times you may wreck,
take heed to your hindview.
it’s not all about whats infront,
because some things can blind you.
willingly accept, then apply positive directions,
I hope my voice is OnStar inside you.
“don’t go there, I been there, and did that..
please do better than what I do.”
there are always dangerous alleyways and deadends,
creeping up around the corner and beside you.
there may even be unclear roads and foggy days,
but trust in God and let that be the light that guides you.
at times you may not even want to hit the road,
regardless how you turn over, get up and let love ignite you.
you can even get fatigued by the same result,
but you will break thru, make self belief blaze like a fire inside you.
and just like my mom’s bumps in the road inspired me,
I hope the bumps I paved, motivates and inspires you.
so you can traverse great distances over smoother terrain,
because good roads last longer than drive thru’s.

“leaving you, left me”

I leave you with goodbyes
I leave your goodbyes, trying to keep my glow
I left your goodbye, and lost my glow
because I’m left inside of goodbye, until I see my son
and then I can glow again
but without you, all I know is
shade
darkness
a pit
a hole
abyss
I’m back in prison, after our visit
when I held then sun in my arms
still hot from our embrace
but now fading cold and dark from your distance
I never believed I could leave your goodbye, still glowing long after
because life without your son is darkness
every time I leave you, parts of me fall and get left behind
only to be found when I see you again
but I smile my pain to convince you my joy
and I wear your hurt from our goodbye like a father should
but so once I left your goodbye
I left my glow behind with it…
you didn’t see it, I wouldn’t let you
and now im back in prison, cold and dark
until next time I see my son,
sorry you have to leave, even though is leaves me dim
I’ll never let go of your light
goodbye

Happy birthday Josiah!

“sorry son”
I love you and miss you
I wish I could kiss you
the distance has chiseled
a piece from my middle

though I’ve had my issues
its nothing against you
it must have convinced you
that I’m less than gentle

I never would hurt you
I never had hurt you
though I know I hurt you
ever since we drifted further

and I don’t deserve you
I know I’m not worthy
my tears always flurry
and fall in a hurry

when I think of you hurting
and the things that you heard
but I swear that I’m searching
and my arms are still reaching

but I can not reach you
not because I haven’t tried
maybe some rather I leave you alone
but I can never leave you alone

I try to respect them
you have a father!
he isn’t white
you have another side

he miss you daily
he wish he could write
he wish he could call
and you pick up the phone

you’ve been around
when he’s on the phone
but you do not know
and that kills him slow

but he doesn’t show
he just prays and hopes
because you’re so close
but to you he’s a ghost

to them he’s a monster
but that’s just not honest
he respects your mama
it’s just that his past is always conjured

but it ends in a comma
because he’s still living
his story is still being written
and its far from finished

that was a chapter
he’s building a future
but you’re what he’s after
you’re not a bastard

you’re more than a fraction
I know that you’re fractured
and you’re half
of a man you may be chasing after

and your mama don’t know it
you may not how to voice
being a child feeling a void
it’s not like you have a choice

so I get it son
but one day this will be over
and no matter where you go
I’ll be right over your shoulder

as you get older
we’ll become even more closer
and hopefully we’ll both capture closure
until then, happiness will only be a matter of exposure

“10years ago”
10 years ago I became a father
10 yeas ago I remember holding you swaddled
10 years ago I remember holding you and your mama
10 years ago I remember you sucking on my lip like it was your bottle
10 years ago I remember holding you close with your eyes closed watching you swallow the last of the foam from the formula in your bottle
10 years ago I seen the first reflection of me
10 years ago I kissed the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen
10 years ago I witnessed the birth of a King
10 years ago I held you up like Simba in the Lion King
10 years ago I forgot about all of my problems
10 years ago I had risen up from out of the bottom
10 years ago I was no longer feeling hollow
10 years ago I held your moms hand as she pushed you into this world like a champ and I snipped the umbilical cord that followed
10 years ago I reached the peak of the highest mountain
10 years ago I held up the world back when it weighed 8pounds, 5.8ounces
10 years ago seems more than just 10 years ago
but how can anyone keep count the age of a miracle?
Happy Birthday Josiah, I love you son

Happy Birthday Josiah,
its kind of crazy celebrating your birthday alone this year in somber guilt-like silence yet again, and ironically it falls on Mother’s Day! Because your birthday is the first time I witnessed the strength of a woman, that being your Mom on that day, and the miracle of birth, that being the King you arrived as. I won’t waste time speaking of the past, I want to just say briefly if possible that you give me so much strength and hope, also motivation in life. Because you were the first thing in life that showed me that I can be something more than just myself, and that’s a father. I took that for granted, but I now know that being a father is more than just being a parent. I never had that example, but its no excuse because when a child is brought to you, we have no choice but to learn on the job and let go of self and get ready to give without complaint. Give everything with a smile! Having a child isn’t the weight, the weight is actually learning to be selfless. A father is just as needed as a mother, for guidance, strength, discipline, love, protection, identity, and understanding the role of a man and how he is to act towards women. A father is not in prison, but he Can, father from prison. I can’t right now with you, but I’m building every piece of myself up so when I get that chance again, I won’t mess that up. You are so beautiful, great, better than me, and the first moment I understood the depth and meaning of sacrifice. There’s nothing in life I wouldn’t give up just to be able to know you again and earn being your father because I know coming into your life as if I’m entitled to loved listened to and respected is not right nor realistic. But I’m comforted by the job your mom is doing, and though I know the importance of fathering, I know even more the importance of showing you that I will respect your mom and wait until she is ready, if there’s anything I can show you is the importance of respecting and loving women. Especially since I didn’t know that lesson as early as I should’ve, and people deal with their pain in their own time and ways. So again, I’ll silently celebrate your birthday again for another year, truthfully in pain, but I don’t even compare it to anything that you may feel and not know how to voice yet. God you’re so beautiful..starring at your picture as I write this. Man I love you dude, I really do..but you getting to that age where this mushy stuff might not be you…and you’ll probably be beyond kissing age by time I’m out, but I’ll hug the shit out of you! Memories I already had with you can never be taken away, so I just work everyday to prepare myself for the days to come that I will have more. Even if I’m met with your anger, I’ll take it, give you time, and keep coming back time and time again, because I will never not be there again. I will never fail that duty to you Son. Yea man..Happy Birthday Jooce! Josiah Henry-James Wardlow
10 years old smh…Sheesh! Girlfriends are a thing now huh?! If you’re a lover like your parents..they in trouble! 😉
I love you Son

“they say”

they say love is a bank
but the things we deposit
just isn’t worth saving

what are we saving?
cuz we both withdraw
and still end up broken

they say love’s a vacation
I get it we trip
most days we just lay in

and we never work at it
we drink and reek havoc
then pass out in the midst of each others madness

they say love is
because, love IS
and the moment you say what love isn’t
then no longer does love live

“so low/solo”

I’m so low
I’m solo
I keep my business on the low low
but I wear my heart like a logo
in my feels, feeling like I’m going loco
I been feeling so low
I been living so low
I feel like I need soul-grow
because my soul isn’t solar, it’s so/so-
so dark,
I need the light
but I run from it
its too bright
for me to learn from it
I’ll go blind and burn in it
so all I ever do is turn from it..
now that light
is at my back
but it doesn’t light
up the track
honestly,
I don’t like where I’m at
like,
what’s the point of life,
if all I ever do is lack?
go ‘head,
you can laugh!
heard it all,
wont be the last!
doubt if God,
wants me to last
I walk forward,
but I see the past
too close!
when I read the glass
…noises in my head
but fuck you sanity!
I’ll never need you back!
I’m so low
I’m solo

“untitled”

what’s a promise?!
just a word.
hollow air.
like your love!
cold nights
you strayed and left me, I went right
3 a.m. we awake to no lights
eclipse, from a solstice
loving you is rolling dice
never knowing what I’ll get
haunted by your poltergeist
never needed to see you to see the wreck you’ve left
I’m in the blind
but love is,
“and so is love,” they say,
though your snowed in cold shoulders shrug
tears begin to avalanche, but I choke them up
you aren’t worth them
you aren’t worth it
you aren’t worthy
your lack of worth only made it worse
only made me worse
only made me work
more lonely, thinking if only I could escape the hurt
then I could replace the burr
of the blistering wind, whistling mistakes I’ve never faced that blurred
the truest face of her
but its time I crack open reality
tilt up my fears
and swallow my pride
to kill those butterflies you once gave me
hopefully i’ll throw them up
just to get you out of my system
I’ve been through enough

Wake Up

We have to wake the hell up! We have to get involved and get out of our own ways and our own problems and start seeing that there are people out there, right where you live, or down the street, or the next town around, or that you drive by on the street, or at your job, school or church, that are really suffering. People who really need a break, people who really have no idea how to help themselves, let alone, how to seek help for themselves. People that lack the know how, the community resources and support-both familial and societal, to be able to lift themselves from the human conditions of struggle and suffering.
We all struggle, but not all suffer. But I ask, why is it so many that suffer, still have a big enough heart to help most and offer their last? Because THEY, understand the depths of suffering. Their selflessness confuses most people, the reason is because people are so self absorbed and selfish. What do we get out of life just helping ourselves, and doing just enough, yet nothing more when it comes to helping our neighbors to better our world, that we, our kids, and future generations will inhabit?
We are in a crisis of humanity! Because we are rapidly LOSING our Human Unity-humanity! When we just toss money blindly into causes or people hands that need, its a good gesture, but its not enough! Action! Action is what is required, following up, informing, researching and then giving with a Purpose, not just as an act of temporary kindness to feel better about yourself. News flash, that problem you toss money at for a moment, will still be ailing tomorrow! Money isn’t magic, involvement is. I’ve seen people so lost in life that they ran to prison, they aren’t here because they are bad, but because they have been neglected, and are lost, and scared, and don’t know what to do or where to go, and fear death enough to not kill themselves.
I’ve seen people too scared of freedom that they mess up on purpose in order to stay in prison longer, or they get in trouble once out so they can come back. They lack help, they lack resources, they lack Love! That’s what the world is lacking in, you can’t understand without Empathy, and you can’t Empathize without Love!
Love can go so far and do so much for so many or…for just one. Just. One. It’s a fight, it isn’t easy, you will be uncomfortable, you will feel guilt and shame, but you WILL make an impact. That impact is a wave of energy that reciprocates into a force where people pass on the love and care that was given to them.
I saw this guy fresh out of prison on the street with a plastic bowl hoping for change, and he hadnt eaten since the previous day, but he saw a man about ready to get a parking ticket from the meter, so he put his coins in the meter…little did he know he was being watched on a prank show. But what shocked the pranksters was this black man’s genuine heart to give his last, stating that he knows how bad luck feels and he hadn’t had much luck or support, but he just wanted to help, and that it was just coins….JUST COINS! The prank dude started to cry and gave him all the money in his pocket, the guy was shocked and hesitant, never having that much money given to him by anyone in his life..he was rewarded by giving his last when he had Nothing. Just Coins. Yet so many that have much to offer rather speak of how much they lack or need. Perspective folks!
Someone is somewhere doing worse than you…but does that matter? Really?! Then what are you going to do about it?..For real though, what? Or will that be put off for the next new “stress or priority” that you have to deal with first? The essential nature of activism is taking action, fighting for people whom can’t fight for themselves within a world and system that bullies the weak and less fortunate. Taking action, that’s all that is required. Getting involved. Informing yourself. Empathy. Empathy is the autonomous engine that will spur on Action, because Empathy feels deeply and shares that suffering, then unitedly works to find relief. Struggle and Suffering are the loudest instruments ever played, until Love comes around and deafens them both with its pure pitch and cadence.
So many people make such a big fuss over the word sacrifice, but what truly is sacrifice if all and what you valued has no real value at all with all things considered. If we simply place value on and desire the material things that will only decay, then we will become just like our values and desires, and decay along with them. All sacrifice is, is loving even when you’re hurt, providing strength even when you feel weak, healing others even while being wounded yourself, standing for those that can’t get back up yet, speaking for those that don’t know the words, finding those that are lost and letting them know that you may not have all the answers, but you get it and you are in it with them.
Yea, hearing it out loud, sacrifice sounds like a lot, but a life is just one. I guess it comes down to how many things you want to do with this one life. One thing great, or many things good, with many lives changed, by your One life. All it takes is One. If you been snoozing, just Wake up, see the world, and then fight to stay Woke. Or, stay sleep, living lifeless blind and empty. Every choice is free, but not every mind that makes the choice is. So what are you? I know I’m in prison, but that’s a structure not an identity. Connections, not all have them, so get connected within your community or in others.
There is no community without connection, there is no society without communication, and there is no humanity nor culture without commonalities. We can make a difference by making up the distance, not making more distance and keep most distant. Suffering can be saved, that’s the good in it, because there’s good in all, even and especially, in you, And the weak. Our worst speaks, even when we are silent-Prose of a Con, but there is a good in every bad-Pros of a Con
Get Active, Get Activate

Black Matters

My Black skin
matter of fact
My Black Hyde!
thick!
like a
shield
force field
coat
cloaked
chain mill
armor
piercing like an archer
distilled in ardor
with history written within like an author
but art thou, both art and artist?
but I’ve been arsoned
parsed
partitioned
departed
though I sheen like Black diamonds in apartheid
and I may part tides
but still,
I’m seen as ape-parts
torn a-part
born in a-partments
enslaved in com-partments
caged in de-partments
arms raised, to say I’m not armed, until you see arm pits
because me-target
if you wanna see, how deep heart gets
don’t read deepak,
reincarnate of tupac
when you listen to me speak, I heat, then refreeze, thee arctic
I may get views yet viewed, as a beast or the least, to say the least
no figure of speech,
I WAS as a figurine, and they tried to figure me, by trying to figure my speech
yet My speech, can reach thee farthest
and still teach thee smartest
energy in my being, being anything, but lee-thargic!
although I still may be seen as low as thee carpet
how many times will I contort and conform til they see arm twist?
but no more
seeing me as a marred nomad of no matter!
because I,
yes I,
matter!
so I lather
this face,
this real, true, resilient, strong and thorough ‘unpainted’ black face,
in the reality of my Own truth
not historic traumas and modernized ways of saying “I Own you”
Man, in the mirror
no!
Black Man, in the mirror
my vows are
I.Owe.yoU
because you’ve been either alien or alias aligned with ‘all lies’
not allies
deceiving your Own eyes
but you are no more a marred nomad of no matter
because now,
I.Know.You!
Black, isn’t a name for separation
Black, is more than debates of reparations
Black, is more than being politicized with every new administration
Black, once integrated, shouldn’t instigate, instant hatred!
amidst imitations
sullied, by Black face
but this, Black Face, is not pixeled, made up, painted, nor stenciled, but pigmented beauty,
on this
Black Man
Black Master
Black Mosaic
Black Knight
Black King
Black Artist
Black Art
Black Painting
Black Poet
Not
a Black mystery
nor
Black misery
and more than just
Black matter
so Black Man in the mirror,
just remember-
That Black skin,
Your Black hyde
because
Black,
matters!
even when the moment you are born becoming a statistic,
Black matters
even when you’re shaded with stereotypical characteristics,
Black matters
even when parts of your history and past is too hard to revisit,
Black matters
even when you feel like a misfit,
and while being a misfit,
reports say you still fit the description, conviction!
Black matters
even when your name becomes embroidered in digits,
Black matters
you are the only one that needs convincing,
then it will convince them
so never look in the mirror and ask ‘who is it’
because Black man,
you matter!