My Conversation With God

If we can love then surely it be in us to un-love. If we so accurately choose pain then we surely have the power to choose fortune. We become our thoughts, the pain attaches to our spirits and soon after our auras are dimmed and tarnished.

 

I Decide. I decide to think of the apple delicious, it is thus delicious – and to him or her not so much. Equally I shall decide pain of the past to be triumphant. I am no longer there, it is not my present, but indeed was it a gift.

 

~Dear Sir, why do you hurt?

I hurt because the heart wants what it wants.

Dear Sir, do you think you are worthless?

No.

Dear Sir, then I ask you why do you hurt?

I hurt because I want to be loved.

Dear Sir, is there no one that loves you at all?

Yes there is, but I want to be loved by a lover.

Dear Sir, your lover already loves you as you love them.

OK, but where are they?

Dear Sir, they are searching for you as you seek them. But do not seek them in Brothels and with Thieves. Wait for them where they patiently await you – your heart.~

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We are not Hearbroken. We are Heartfilled.

I have come to far to give up now. Thoughts rule this world. Control your thoughts, control your world. I am only heartbroken if I say I am. I am only ugly if I choose to be. You are beautiful, you are wonderful, you are godly.

~From silky water, a goddess adorned in silver extended her arm with stars in her eyes. Her hand unfolded like a blossoming rose and in it she held my heart of gold. “No matter how hard the flesh may grow give not your heart to wanted eyes. As the gold shimmered in vibrations congruent with my breathing the waters in which we stood trembled. Oaks as tall as mountains shielded their eyes and rocks turned to dust. “Love is the strongest magic we have in this world. Use it wisely or be destroyed by its allure.” ~

From a Tree to Me

How deep your roots. How pleasant your fruit. Tell me your secrets. What is god like? Does he smile, does she dance? Is it fair? Tell me how the beginning was nothing more than the end. How beautiful was the first step of man? The first birth of women. How she elegantly combed her hair. How deep does the soul really go? I wonder if the pain of love is truly etched on our hearts. Can you draw a dream from the scars? I imagine heaven is like soup, tomato soup. Warm, dedicated, and made with love.

As I Grow Old

To feel imperfection is to be alive. I am faulted. Each day I see a new wrinkle. I trace the receding nature of my hair. I experience the click clack of my knees. I am no longer a child. I see the elderly and do not laugh, I wonder…Who were they then? At what age did sickness and health meet?

I watched (which felt like forever) an elderly man and woman walk
hand-in-hand down the sidewalk. Their pace was painstakingly slow yet unbearable beautiful. Imagine just imagine, once upon a time they ran, ran down sidewalks and skipped across streets – a speed as a child I envied to reach. Long legs. Reassured direction. Knowledge of symbols on poles. No parents.

I envied the older. Now I envy the old. Every tinge I feel, I think to myself this is it. Every night from work before I place my head, I stretch my back. The labor of the day has stiffened its length. In between shifts I stop at the mirror and stare, one day it will not be toothpaste but Poligrip.

This may sound like Hell. I call it beautiful madness. Some wish for cars and mansions, I yearn to grow old. I hope to wake and sit at the edge of the bed to catch my breath. I got up too fast. My heart is racing. I’m sweating like hell! I wish to walk up flights of stairs and stop on the third step as I hold up the line. I’ll smirk at their impatience. I wish to sit in parks all day, barely moving, as the kids ask if I’m alive. I am, just admiring the landscape. I want to go to Church with sunglasses as I nod in and out of sleep – an hour is just too damn long!

I wish for life in my staggered breath. I wish for patience in my “hard a hearing” ears. I wish for wisdom in my speech. I wish for grandchildren that take delight in me telling the same story over and over.

I think today I’ll walk a little slower. Maybe I’ll name my wrinkles. And instead of calling myself faulted and aged, I’ll say congratulations you made it another day.

Do You Want to Talk About It?

Do you want to talk about it?

Do you want to talk about it?

Yes!

Let’s talk about how much it hurts. Let’s talk about how I am still feeling it. Let’s talk about how I am addicted to the pain. Let’s talk about how something so lovely could feel so horrific. Let’s talk about how something warm and round turned into shards of glass slipping down my throat. Let’s talk about heartache. Let’s talk about betrayal. Let’s talk about friendship. Let’s talk about sleepless nights. Let’s talk about you. Let’s talk about me. Let’s talk about sacrifice. God, the Universe, the Law of Attraction. Let’s talk about science. Let’s talk about new world orders. Sub atomic particles, Quantum Physics, emotional stability. Mental analysis. Twin flames-soul mates. Segregation, discrimination, memories that won’t leave. Memories that won’t come. Dreams that are in the past. Future events never to come. I am talking pure religion, physical attraction, romantic explosion, lost wisdom. I’m gonna cover sex and blisters, and long nights with whispers. Caress my body and cuddle my mishaps. We gonna walk down the streets with death on our hips; pestilence on the left and mortification on the right while looking hope and creativity straight forward. I’m talking about love – you know what I mean?

So, do you still wanna talk???

My Love is Too Wild to Be Caged

This is the second poem I wrote after watching Tyler Perry’s “For Colored Girls.”  My hand rushed against the paper to bring a message of internal surge. As I read it now I feel power, pain, courage, fear, and love. This poem is a mesh of all my experiences – triumphants and failures. I did not like the poem at first, but after watching my friend’s expression after she read it I became intrigued. Between you and I…I think the poem is so personal that I am afraid to share it.

 

~My Love is Too Wild to Be Caged~

 

My love is too wild to be caged

Too pure to be thrown in my face

My love is too raw to be cooked, boiled, and seasoned

My love is too Godly to be served, to be written, and spoken.

 

For a gay boy my love is just as real

I am unashamed of my body and its wants

For a gay boy my love is too real to be sexualized

For a gay boy my body is too manly to be demeaned

My heart is too red to be diluted, too fierce to be tamed.

 

As a man my heart is too real

As a man my heart is here, hard, and soft

Melting and stone. Hard. Soft. Crazy. Painful and full.

 

As a man my heart is me

As a gay boy my heart is me

As a child my heart is me

As me my heart is here.

My Pain is Many

I watched Tyler Perry’s For Colored Girls this weekend and it put me in a whirlwind of emotions. The first time I watched this movie was during a period of my life when I was experiencing extreme anxiety – I went insane! Now, if you have not seen this movie you are definitely missing out.  Here is one of four poems I wrote as the tide of emotions erupted.

~My Pain is Many~

My pain is lonely

My pain is horny

My pain is crazy

Yet, it invokes my creativity

But, it drives my sanity

 

My pain is single

My pain is sexual

My pain is infidelity

Yet, it invokes my celibacy

But, it drives my chastity

 

My pain is complex

My pain is medicated

My pain is judgmental

Yet, it invokes my kingship

But, it prevents my downfall

 

My pain is beauty

My pain is lovely

My pain is contagious

Yet, it invokes my sadness

But, it drives my passion

 

My pain is simple

MY pain is soothing

My pain is Godly

A New Lease On Life

I wrote this a couple of months back when I was bedridden. I rather experience 10,000 heartbreaks than lie in bed wondering if I will ever see Christmas as I once did.

During this time I learned what true friendship and family meant. As I layed there in thought, misery, and shame they ensured I never felt lonely. True friendship and family are relentless and unwavering in their pursuit to adore and love you. They smother you with love, they do not care if you want it or not. They do not leave you alone even if you want to be left alone. Sometimes in your lowest points you want to be miserable, but they stop you right there and interject themselves. And you know what – it works!

Without them I would be nothing. Without them…without them…without them…I could not breath.

 

 *A New Lease On Life*

~Gahhh!  It was a month from Hell. A month I never want to relive or re-visit. My energy was stolen. My hope was diminished. My body was slain. And my faith began to fade. Only through one eye was I able to see the world, which at this point slowly began distancing itself from me. Life began to seem whimsical and faity-tailish. But I knew it was upon me. Before I fell into darkness I patiently waited for its arrival. I met the mornings by peering through the blinds to ensure the porch was free of shadows. The evenings were a blaze of screeching tires and horns to escape cold fingers. And the nights consisted of locked doors and bodily shivers under covers at the tinge of any sound.

 

Finally, fatigue introduced itself first. Headache swiftly came next. And Irritation was the last to sit down…or so I thought. Unbeknown to me, my guests invited guests. They arrived later, opened the fridge without asking and ate strength, dignity, and my future. I cannot tell a lie and say they did not bring gifts because they did. After stripping my table of its beauty they laid another kind of setting, a Brothers Grimm inspired setting. Forks of shame, napkins of tears, cups of solitude, gravy of regret, a turkey filled with isolation, and of course my favorite a freshly baked bread of annihilated dreams.  

 

The end was closing in on me and inadvertently my family. All I could think of was shame. In my mind I was battling the lesser of two evils. If given the option I would have chosen pain over shame. And if you knew my options neither of them would be anything you would want to pull out of a hat.

 

How could I have let the madness inside me drive me to this point? I was reckless in my actions, heartless in my endeavors, and ruthless in my delusional conquest. I wanted to prove a point to a person who was not even listening. I wanted to show myself a good time knowing damn well it could never amount to happiness and true revenge. My face bubbled in fury. The sin that lived within surfaced and showed its face.  It itself wanted to be free, wanted air to breath. It became tired of being overlooked and fed scraps. ~

 

It is time the Broken Hearted Reclaim Their Lives.

A Smile Reached My Bedside

I live for the thrill. I live for the times I cannot believe what I have done. I am 24 and raging. I am 24 and evolving. I am 24 and changing. Time moves so slowly while life moves so fast. One minute I am here and the next I am worlds away. A new adventure every minute. A new heart every second. Sometimes I wonder if I will be alive in the morning, sometimes I wish I would be dead in the morning. I cannot endure a pain greater than the one today, but I know I can experience greater joy than I did two days ago. I guess that is what keeps me going. The potential for happiness, the hope of faith. The look of better more fulfilling days.

 A smile reached my bedside today, from who I do not know but it warmed my toes and wiggled in my stomach.  I awoke with a rush and sent a smile and a hug to a bedside in a far off land. 

Blackbird (A New Movie Coming out!!!) This movie will shake homes and saves lives!

If you watched this trailer and did not shake, if you watched this trailer and did not tremble, if you watched this trailer and did not feel confliction, admiration or love, then I suggest you watch it again. I am not sure if my mind has even finished digesting the power that was in this short clip. Black people talking about black people. No, black people talking about black gays. Wait, an all black cast in the south making a movie about a black gay boy learning about his sexuality.

Blackbird is a remarkable story about at a 17-year-old (Randy) black high school student living in a religiously small knit community in Mississippi learning about his sexuality and dealing with peculiar visions. Not only is Randy struggling to understand his new found urges, but he is the star of his church’s choir and son of both Isaiah Washington (Lance) and Mo’Nique (Claire). Washington plays as Randy’s estranged father who learns of his sons “indecency” and returns to help him transition into the role of a black man. While Mo’Nique falls upon Randy’s secret and blames him for the disappearance of his little sister.

If this has not convinced you that this is a must-see movie then let’s try adding them all up; the plight of emotions and drama of teenagers in high school (something we all can agree upon), a single mother who lost her daughter, an estranged father returning, the religious south, and a boy who lost his sister, has the gift of premonitions, and the difficulties of navigating the terms of his sexuality in a society where he cannot speak of such thoughts and emotions.

I cannot wait for this movie to come out. It is about time we see a movie in mainstream cinema where esteemed black actors take on the story of black sexuality. Blackbird is more than gay, Blackbird is more than black, Blackbird is more than sexuality, Blackbird is a universal story.