tender thighs haiku

i'm aware that your
legs makes denim sing; i just
want to learn the words.

from the archives: biting wolves

it is hard to be human
among silent jackals
tough to be fair
as apathy erodes your mind
it's difficult to fight for what is good
when enmity and indifference are rewarded
but to live you simply grit your teeth
and endure
each bite.

slowing sunlight haiku

*for brownin'*

could loving me from
a distance make your eyes burn
less than your heart does?

desire and lightning haiku

unlike lightning bolts
i won't scar you but i can
fully charge your heart

vivid rose

*for brownin*

if you see
the sun's crest within my eyes
as i look at you and smile
it's only because
the vivid rose of your heart
beckons
and who am i
to refuse to listen
as you graciously open it to me?

Music Break: The Four Tops

here's a soulful and stirring gem to get the week, as short as
it is, started courtesy of a star group from Motown Records,
The Four Tops. enjoy!

chasing clouds away in cursive

it's 5 AM as i write this, and the creeping dread i've
been fighting has risen up to render sleeping impossible
for now. so i'm doing the only thing that makes sense for
me to do at this moment in time.

i'm writing to chase these clouds away.

over the past couple of years, i've been in a position
where i have had to remove my blinders and keep them off.
what do i mean by blinders? specifically, all of the things
that some folks use to get through life. hell, to get past
the DAY at times. things like over-indulging in shopping,
excessive gossip, drowning myself in reality television. i
found that to a degree, taking those blinders off allowed
me to see. it also exposed my sight to the searing, painful
smoke that comes with fear. i know that enlightened mean do
not fear. but it doesn't stop fear from swarming in. and in
truth, there's a climate that exists these days that somewhat
demands that you bring fear into your life and home or else
face its wrath. and what is its' wrath? indifference. apathy.
constant anxiety. tears. sadness. depression. the feeling that
you'll never get past where you are now. the feeling of being
left behind by life.

i've had my time amidst those clouds. i've recently come to
grips with the fact that i had more than likely been hit with
mild depression due to a number of things going on. and i know
now that i had to have my eyes feel that pain. my vision needed
to feel the burn. i needed to confront every bit of doubt in a
cold, calculated way and rely on the fact that i've been here
before. and i've driven into these clouds head on every time.
and managed to make it out just fine. just seeing these words
in front of me now, as the silver morning light edges up to the
windows tells me i will get through them again. and it's because
i'm allowing myself to see everything better now. i'm allowing
my eyes to not only see all that is, but all that could be. and
i'm not looking back like i used to.

if you're reading this, i thank you for it. if you're going
through something similar, i hope that you have the same
revelations i've had and can continue on without fear.

haiku 11.21.11

his eyes looked for God
while their eyes searched for his soul
gone through gunshot wounds

supple velvet

you managed
to capture that sliver of cream
that sits on the sash across the waist of the sky
and i'm sure she does not mind you borrowing it
it goes well
with the cinnamon laden in your eyes
and while i've spoken at length
about the mysteries twinkling in your smile
the glow that makes me curious
is that which emanates
from the delicate sculpture of your thighs
they dictate a walk that's regal
and only the trusted know what secrets they hide
mysteries of supple velvet
made vivid by you
no wonder you make cotton sheets sigh.

low words at high tide

loving you
was like sitting atop a boat
slipping slowly beneath the face of the ocean
and maybe she's the only one
who could make sense
of a woman who came to me for dollars
and found my words
broke change free in her heart

yes, loving you
made me a salt soon to join the sea
i didn't go quietly
i held onto ron anejo
quite a few of your kisses
the song of your satisfied sighs
it made nearly drowning in sadness
less of a burn to the eyes.

facets of a beautiful fight.

protests
aren't made for t-shirts
which sit on chests as conversation pieces
in happy hours made to hide the fact
that you've been disenchanted
because your magic doesn't work unless you've had a few
protests
won't be caged in characters
with doubled meanings made bountiful
by the Gods' number
the only timeline that matters is right now
this is more than
building brands as hands are tied
with plastic bands
(silver bracelets are SO Selma and don't go well
with balsamic vinegar)
you can't sanitize an uprising
history has always behaved
like intestinal gas
and the abdominal burn is the concern
not that things will change
but how will YOU adapt
there's no equivalent
to hearing a grip tighten on a nightstick
and knowing that subdued rattle
can come before a snake's bite
Alex Jones and the rest of the fear junkies
will not save you from their compound
where they live with dollars and donuts
but they expect you to survive
on conspiracies and soy
and the fight needed to ensure
the generation after them won't sleep
no
protests
are never pretty
because pretty can always chip and fade
and despite what they tell you
picking sides in a firefight
doesn't mean you won't get hit
but they are beautiful
most struggles from the heart
often are.

haiku 11.15.11

i want you so bad
i could fuck away those long
miles between us

for the weary moments of a struggle

everyone wants to be Che
but few want to be Rosa
you want to rage against machines
but let a voice on a phone
tell you where to get your next espresso fix
or quote 'The Matrix' as a reason
you don't have to the voice to cry out against pain
there comes a point
where you're sick and tired of being sick and tired
and then you get sick of those
telling you to be inspired
while pushing you to the front
like Saudis did Egyptians once
change comes in many currencies
but none more valuable
that a mind made beautiful enough
to cause chains to rust
and crowns to gleam
dreams only live
when you're fully awake
and fires that free do not begin
unless you accept
that you're only one flame
and that you burn
in your own way and on your terms

so
what firestorm will you cause today?

blueberry tea and her arms

still wishing
for the stillness found
in your kitchen when we let our hearts
breathe next to each other
as sunlight mixed with New England frost
framed the morning
i think you've managed
to embed your sultry grin
into my chest
and my nostrils
still fill with brown sugar and yearning
holding you
has become as necessary as walking
and that's why my mind so often
travels to regain that stillness
steeped in blueberries and your arms.

smoke before the thunder. (for joe frazier.)

they tried to make you many things, Joe
everything you could think of Joe
but like all champions
you dictated your terms
with fists that burned
yeah
they tried to make you out to be dumb
to make you just a foil
but anyone born under palmettos and hard gazes
crumbles doubt
with fists that brought thunder
you shocked the world
along with Ali
forty one rounds
that stitched themselves with a corner man's hands into history
and made death a reluctant spectator
when the heat of battle in a ring in Manila
saw you willing to still fight blind
they called you Uncle Tom
not knowing you made monkeys out of all who scorned you
there is no more bitterness
no more razor blades to swallow to hide pain
the city of brotherly love
named you theirs
and the world
names you a champion eternal, Joe
as a man who's smoke
brought a thunder that shook gods
and humbled the loudest of men.

lemongrass morning

this morning
like all the others that have passed
walks in with its own sadness
i got too used
to hearing your voice
in concert with that of birds
and words between us
steeped like lemongrass tea
each sip
makes this day somewhat easier.

being your own away team.

sometimes, you tend to do things better on the road.

i've previously made analogies to how the creative mind
is similar to a shark in the ocean. they need to move
constantly to survive. those out on the corners, no matter
what they do, are of the same mind. 'you gotta walk/'cause
i walk as i talk."(c)dead prez

being blessed to travel as i have from an early age, i've
gotten so many benefits from these adventures. and as i've
gotten older, i can honestly say that the biggest benefit
thus far has been having the ability to let my mind think
and breathe that much more clearly and freely. case in point:
i was in DC a couple of weeks ago and i was able to focus
on having a good time and still be able to approach certain
things i was dealing with back home from a better perspective.
it was like stepping out of my body and watching things
unfold on a giant movie screen.

and another aftereffect to that is, travel time to a destination
has always managed to light a fire within me. probably because
it's a block of time where i don't have to undergo the steady
amount of multi-tasking i usually go through on a day to day
basis. i do take the time to write, and review more in those
blocks of time. i've actually written articles and essays as
well.

so for all of you writers out there, next time you've got a
lengthy bit of travel ahead, carry a journal along with the
bestseller you may have on your eReader.

six word story: Ben Ali's lesson

hearts wanting freedom always destroy machines.

six word story: thoughts during the evening prayer.

Inquisitiveness now made Shireen's veil invisible.