February 10, 2016
Coffee
Coffee, awakens a fear in me.
Although you gave me energy, almost new life, I stayed away from you.
I stayed away from you because I knew the high was good for the moment, but when it was time for the crash it would hurt when it slowly started slipping away.
Until the next time…
The warm sensation of sometimes mocha or caramel complimented by that sweet coffee cake, it was bliss.
Then as I see my cup running low again I still savor it to the very end.
I admit, I was never sure if it was just the caffeine I missed.
But as I watch the barista pour this cup after a very long time, I now remember that it was never about the taste, but the feeling you gave, as it flowed through my body. It was poetry.
That was the chemistry.
Something that never could leave me, only intensified while your essence is with me.
So this one is in honor of you and how sometimes I miss coffee.
Sands are Escaping
One day you’ll reminisce. This is a fact I know.
Not because I am the ultimate, but because it’s a repeat of what’s been repeated.
That is why I am giving you the intimate of my soul the last time, the last hope.
It depends on you whether this is the last time you’ll feel what it’s like to be with the one before she got away.
I love the beach caressing the gaps between my toes. The warm summer breeze is the only one that knows and appreciates.
But I digress to give you more time, but the sands are escaping, the hour glass is telling time.
This poem is not finished.
I hope it will be a happy one, that perhaps rhymes about our future good times.
October 25, 2013
Liaison
Don’t take away my rhythm,
Don’t take away my blues,
Don’t take away the hip in my hop,
the liaison between you and my heart.
Don’t look at my face, don’t look at my color,
I’m the same as you.
When the beat hits that box,
I’m in the clouds like you, I’m a dreamer,
I remember the legends too.
I can see that Brown Sugar,
The passion between the two.
From little children to grown ups,
It grows in all of us.
Common says he used to love her,
Kanye says she’s a gold digger,
and Jay says he just loves girls, girls, girls, girls,
Girls he do adore….
Now put your number on that paper cuz he would love to date ya,
Holla at ya when he come off tour…
You see, her high is not just a puff puff pass,
If you paid attention to her, you would know that
her beauty and spirit is the kind that lasts.
She made that paper her voice heard through the Ecko
MC, b-girl, skater all natural Nubian queen, can’t you see
She could be WE
Reflected even in the magazines
Fly and confident, heels shattering the concrete
ruling even in the Complex scene.
Here for all of New York to see,
Hip hop’s children are precious and beautiful
as can be.
July 23, 2013
Closer to My Dreams
Wheels turning faster than my heart can keep up beating
its that ghostly touch that wakes me up at night and brings me
to my feet
towards my desk reaching for that paper and pen
its the difference between feeling it and believing it
its the difference between knowing it and doing something about it
I breathe it, i crave it, i cant escape it
People have silly ideas, but some are geniuses so how do u know if its destiny?
Its that churning deep inside of me when I look around and see my opportunities
Opportunities come and opportunities go
How can I just stand while my ideas float?
Someone once said that dreams without plans simply turn into wishes.
I’m not one to stand around knee deep in my dreams putting my hopes in
daydreams, broken promises and kisses
So when is it my turn?
Only I can answer that question.
The answer for the believer is that I am already closer to my dreams.
Always Waiting
Your jaw drops as your eyes ask me why
You care and now someone else is holding me
It’s not that hard really
Fearlessly I posted my post it to your brick wall
You promised to open the door and you haven’t moved at all
Now I walk away, no more messages.
You text me and say you care.
That you finally read my notes and you understand.
Now you tell me that you realize you won’t find another author like me anywhere.
Heart always narrating stories of pain.
My messages were forever, they would’ve withstood the rain.
A collage of my best on your wall in the shape of a heart.
I know you can never fully repair a broken heart, so I thought I could give you a new one.
How naive of me.
Every post it on your wall, gives a little more of me, leaves a little less in me.
Now I’m all empty.
But thankfully someone found this empty bottle of me
and saw the potential of what it could be.
He picks up clay and starts to mold a new heart for me.
I guess karma really is part of destiny.
I did for you what he now does for me.
No more messages to brick walls of solitude.
You want to wallow in your loneliness and I can’t help you.
Save your friendship for someone who cares.
I’m always waiting.
I’m done waiting.
No more waiting.
September 19, 2012
Behind Enemy Lines (New Poem)
Poetry a secret sanctuary.
Anything is better than wallowing in the abyss of nothingness.
Sitting, wondering about maybes and does hes.
She’s tired.
A woman afraid to walk out on her own without her voice, paper, and pen.
A long list full of reasons. Suspended in the hills of shoulders to shoulders of women just like her.
The burden weighing so heavy it bends the spine making the soul feel like it can’t get up.
Twisted, caught in this web of a mind game called “trying to make love happen” she
wants to break free, but she’s addicted.
Addicted to the hope that one day you’ll see her in the light of sultry sexy red instead of plain Jane brown.
In her hope of you she forgets that brown is the color to wear proud.
It is the same color as the ground from where beautiful things sprout and where the truth
of life is the classical sound.
On a drunken night your mouth spoke to be an ally to the cause and claimed a void.
Don’t you know she simply wanted to dress these wounds and fill it with her own strength?
However when the daylight broke your actions spoke treason as you ran away to enemy lines.
But her hope is blind. Taking steps towards you to save you from your own insanity.
Bullets flying in every direction, you stare blankly as she risks herself for you.
She takes a hit and you continue to stare as if this truly is a game and that
her pain does not exist.
She takes her paper to write on with her pen one last time simultaneously as she screams with her last
few breaths.
” I will fight and take the pain over and over because that is what makes the human heart human. I will fight in the hope of saving you. Maybe one day someone will find that I am worth fighting for too.”
December 12, 2011
Marc Ecko Interview- Fashion Designer and Advocate for Youth Empowerment
December 4, 2011
Goodbyes- Quote of the Day and Insight
“A goodbye is only sad if you didn’t put your best into whatever it is you are parting from, because then it just becomes a missed opportunity.”- yours truly.
October 11, 2011
My Time
Time, all they want is my time…
Don’t they understand they are asking me for something
that is worth more money than I’ll ever have in my lifetime?
Don’t get me wrong, I only want what God has given me and not a
second more, but that’s why it’s mine and not yours.
I won’t work an extra hour because today I am a day older than
I was yesterday and once the sun goes down I can’t have it back…
I won’t shed too many more sad tears because happiness feels too damn good..
Why would I trade my gift of joy for tears that are
emotionally too expensive for me to afford?
Go somewhere else with your open relationship concept and come back when you are
ready to change your Facebook status to “afraid of commitment.”
Then maybe we can be friends and you can call yourself trendy because my
brand of association is a luxury and golden minutes of quality time is the price.
Memories, once friendships no lost in the sands of time.
I know what they say about true friendships,
but sometimes life just takes us away to destinies.
Reminiscing feels good, but I’d rather have it back.
I can’t turn back time to things that were real,
so why should I give up my time now for compassion I can’t feel?
Don’t ask for my time without exchanging the preciousness of yours.
Even then, I’ll be the judge of that.
The world is full of people who are dying.
Dying from lack of imagination and hope.
I have the time to save them, so again I say, don’t waste my time.
A Delicacy
Tasty with none of that excess stuff to make you fat.
Just what my soul needs after a tiring day.
The kind that’s nutritious enough to have for breakfast.
In fact, it might be hazardous not to start the day without it.
Sun-kissed sexy rooted inside his chest.
When he pumps from the heart, is when he’s at his best.
The saxophone gently caresses his strong hands and sings him a lullaby.
His lips kissed by the plump juicy of poetry.
Yes, he’s a delicacy.
I’ve put him in my mouth and swallowed him in my throat,
and now he’s sliding down into the epitome of me.
Building Dreams 