Headphones

Sometimes I wear my headphones

Not because music is playing,

But because I don’t want to talk to nobody

I don’t want nobody to talk to

And no lyrics

I escape in nothingness

I enjoy the humming of the empty air

I hear it,

I fill it,

With my own lyrics

With my own words

I fill the emptiness with my own words

Sometimes when I wear my headphones

Transformed

I was ruined.

And everything I knew.

Everything I thought I knew.

Died.

I could feel it.

Slowly,

My appetite decaying

My heart offbeat, more like a tick than a thump

Speaking to me in harsh whispers

You are dying

You are leaving

You are ruined

And so I did what all warriors do.

I fought it.

My greatest weapons in hand, I fought it

I yelled at it, cursed it, tried to transfigure it

Tried to remind it of its old melody, its old beat, that familiar percussion

But it still ticked,

And so helpless, I sat.

I didn’t move, I let my heart play its own tune, as my body suffered the consequences.

It couldn’t stand the sound of the heartbeat,

So it ran.

And I chased it too

Ran after it,

Fed it what it needed

And what it needed, ruined me

Numbed me

Consumed me

Numbered my days

My heart’s clock slowly stuttered,

To its own beat

Because it no longer needed me

And I no longer needed it

So I did everything to sabotage it,

Ruin it,

Hurt it

I did it.

I let it go

So I could get back on beat,

Play the right sound

Play the right tune

But sweeter, and warmer, and more passionate

I was ruined.

But, that didn’t destr

Prognosis

Do you dare tread the path that leads to my love?

Would you mind diving deep into my sea?

And let the undercurrent of my soul capture you?

Do you dare?

Have you been in love before?

Have you been needed before?

Appreciated?

Your flaws ever been adored?

Have you kissed heaven?

Have your feet left ground?

Have you been entranced?

Intoxicated?

High?

Whisked off?

Has your heart ever beaten out of your chest?

Has it?

What about your body?

Has it been discovered?

Has it been investigated?

Opened up?

Wanted?

Felt?

Truly felt?

Has it been touched by peace?

Have those butterflies ever fluttered in your stomach before?

Have they made room for your appetite?

Have you been fed?

Have you been filled?

Have you been noticed?

I mean, really noticed?

Has your heart been broken?

Did anybody see it?

Did anybody care to bend down to help you pick up the pieces?

Did they prick themselves?

When it happened, did they ignore it to keep on reassembling?

Are those eyes swelled?

Are you choked up?

Can you breathe?

Your body's escaped you hasn't it?

Are you jonesing?

Have you lost control of your emotions?

Are you embarrassed?

But, do you care?

Have you forgotten the world?

Do other people matter anymore?

Is it just you and her?

Can you picture your life without her?

Do you want to?

Are you satisfied?

Are you happy?

Are you comforted?

Do you feel appreciated?

Honored?

Cherished?

Invigorated?

Yes?

Well, you just may be in love...

Just When I Thought I Hated Math

Although one is the magic number,
I just love us two
Two hearts, two minds, brought together by two bodies,
Passionate love-making two the third power,

Everytime I add your lips to mine,
My legs divide, the rate of my heart multiplies,
And I long for your fingers to trace the circumference of my oval,
Now that's geometry!

And when I give you the sine,
To let your body cosine mine,
Our legs intertwined and my spot goes on a tangent,
That's what I call trigonometry!

We are finally ready,
To subtract our outfits,
Multiply our passions,
And start exploring the wonders of 69,
I'll let your love type 4 3 7 7 0
And my love type, 1 4 3 or 8
Because that's how the mirror reflects us,

Two bodies tangled,
Two hearts racing,
Two minds as one,
Love-making two, the third power

And just when I thought I hated math,
You solved all of my problems,
I finally figured it out,
You, are the magic number.

Vacation of Guile

Today...
I received a three-letter word
In a one word letter,
and it simply said

Why?

Do you slay me?
Constantly penetrate me with angelic words that glide off lips that
Pillows are envious of,
Roses covet, and velvet is appalled by

Why?

Do you fill my vulnerable ears with half truths,
And false hopes,
And erection, erecting vibrations
And lust encrusted melodies,
My eardrums ringing from the sound of your erotic whispers,
Why...do you...slay me?

I gave up all hopes of being your lover,
As I already had one of my own,
Well actually a soon-to-be mother of my own
And my home?
I let you invade like an angry storm, like a Southern storm
With hail-sized rain and winds that only match the speed of lightning,
and thunder that roars five times the sound of my moans
As you welcome me
You, seduce me

Included me in your auto erotic dances,
Asserting that it takes two, to tango

And I,
Willingly,
Privileged,
Entranced,
and dotingly escaped inside you
Victim to you,

My Femme Fatale

And my other, is getting suspicious
Passwords encrypted,
and jealous of my shirt collar because it doesn't bare her lipstick.
I've been evicted from my true Love's heart,
and I owe it all...to you.

Faded, nostalgic images as I take flight and land on your island
It reminds me of my honeymoon,
Except this
This
Is a guilty vacation

An endless sensation of sceneries that I knew not of,
Of oceans that run deep,
Of waterfalls that soak sheets,
And laughs that smile back at me,
It's like I never knew happiness

The curves of my mouth only match the wrinkles of my eyes
My soul has been discovered,
and my passions out of hibernation
All because of this guilty vacation

Still,
I am honored to be your expatriate
To learn life,
And love,
And truth,
And me.

To be encouraged to dream
Encouraged to laugh,
Encouraged to feel,
Encouraged to, make love.

Why can't I leave here?

Rhetorical are my inquiries,
Because honestly, I want to stay
And discover this island
To bask in this vacation,
To forget my first life,
and remember my true soul

To trek your terrain,
To find my passions in your eyes,
Peace in your warmth,
and pleasure in your frame,
I hope my flight is delayed,
I'm too comfortable here,
My paradise,
My second life,
Addicted to you,

My guilty vacation

He Came (My love letter to poetry)

He is my heartbeat.
A soft thump, that turned into a hard pound.
Informing me of his presence,
When he came
I knew that it meant something.
Something like a miracle,
Something I asked for
Right before mental clarity and after my life be covered in God's blood
When he came
A mythological hero,
His red cape saved me from my biggest mistake
When he came.
At that very moment,
I came alive.
And I took my first breath.
And you took your last,
What took me so long, happened so fast,
My throat can no longer swallow, and my heart cannot fathom...why
I was chosen
Why, we came together
Sharing words like forever,
And a love so strong that not even a hyphen can separate us
I am alive
And as I take my first breath,
I sit here praying, while you take your last
Your last single breath,
Because like that heartbeat,
That loud thump,
We are from the same breath.
When you chose me, and I said "yes"
We chose now,
and now begins forever,
and forever symbolizes eternity,
It's what I asked for,
How I live on,
Why I am here,
and with you,
Finalement,
Enfin,
Finally,
I can breathe again.

I'm Beamin'

What happens when any living organism is kept inside of a box? Better yet, with the lid closed and no holes poked through it?

The answer: it deteriorates and eventually dies.

This is what happens to so many people, specifically black people. More specifically, black people in the city of Detroit. And what is worse is I am not speaking of a physical deterioration, no. I am talking about deterioration of the mind, the worse kind. Since we all know that once someone's mind is gone, and they are not able to think, they become slaves. Slaves to their surroundings, slaves to other people's influences (albeit negative or advantageous), just slaves. Let's talk about it.

One of my favorite movies, "The Great Debaters" clearly emphasizes this point. It is the scene when Denzel asks debater Mr. Lowe to tell him about his father and he retorts," Why don't you tell us something about your father?" And so Denzel did, and he did well. He goes on to explain to him the methodology of Willie Lynch and how the premise of that methodology was to "keep the body,[and] take the mind." Well,how is that a way to live? That is right, it isn't living. That type of physical consumption of water, land and its inhabitants, is what I like to call merely existing.

Sadly, this is what all too often happens in my city: apathy. Or even worse, deterioration of the mind caused by a fear of the unknown and the lack of confidence and courage to fight that fear. What is even sadder is that the weapon that should and could be used to David that detrimental Goliath is education. Another discouraging subject that effects my city.

Bottom line, Detroit is a metropolitan of the living, breathing, dying syndrome. All because people are stuck in this tightly closed box.

Now that I have diagnosed the problem, lets talk about the cure. WAKE THE HELL UP!! People who are apathetic to their surroundings need revitalization, just as an organism trapped in a tightly closed box needs light. Let us be the light to each other, wake each other up!

Now, what is the worse thing someone could do to us when we are sleep; soundly tucked in our beds? That's right, turn the lights on!! Just the thought of someone flipping the switch and damned near blinding you as you wipe the boogers from your eyes so you can clearly see and shoot your victim irks you doesn't it? But, coincidentally that is what is needed now. Someone needs to turn the light on to remind our sleeping bodies (and minds) that daylight exist, that a new day is here; and every time we are blessed with a new day, we get another chance to learn, grow, change, act, dream, conceive, and to spread more light.

What it takes is those few that have seen the light and stepped out of that box to go back and tell people what is out there. That is what I want to do. Gain experiences and play the messenger, the light. Do like Lupe says in his ever-motivating masterpiece "I'm Beamin" (which is ironically so appropriate for this topic). He says in one line, "[it's] kids who wanna leave/and I encourage them/ go out and see the world/ never return from/yea you don't come back/ unless you learn some". And I want to add to that, "learn some" come back and teach what you know. That is how you spread light. That is how you wake people up. Damn it if they complain that their eyes are stinging from your rays, they will adjust. They always do.