Posted in 2017, New Stuff


We all have skills, skills we resist to call upon or use
Byproduct of all we’ve been through
Stories if shared that would be news to those close
Loved ones still reading chapters long closed
Miles in the rear of the window, 5
Prisoner to whichever way the wind may blow
Born to insulate internally,
Made this way to deal with temps zero below or worse
Intuition which dictates where to go next
Limited options due to another’s nepotism 10
Only regarded in terms of who’s our next of kin
Judged by issues we’re advised to be for or against
Answers to questions, each used as a historical reference
Ideals which represent our differences of thought
Lines in the sand used to explain how the lost and found works 15
Excuses to explain, either smiling or frowning faces
Two individuals, opposites sharing time and space
Neither innocent in terms of crimes against humanity
Walls built to protect the merits of our convictions;
The undisputed power of belief 20
Euphoria born from anguish and it’s subsequent release
Given life to merely die away like fallen leaves
Piece of trash, all unworthy of the grief shared by the masses
More like slaves bought to be raped nightly by masta,
Transgressions long forgotten, taken out for pasture 25
Told the past is the past, so it holds no relevance
Convinced by another to advance past this moment
Advised to ignore the merits of any such movement;
Witness to what happens when sense isn’t so common
Victims of groupthink, all in unison when faced with problems 30
All quick to proclaim, cut it off till it’s their limbs we cut off
Those who wait to reminisce what they miss until its lost
Unconcerned with payment, till it’s time to pay the cost
Uninterested with prayer till faced with a crisis of faith
Compelled to look upon tomorrow with an about face 35
Made to re-analyze your own purpose and place
Stuck relying on intuition to determine where to go next
Made this way, to deal with temps zero below or worse
Born to insulate internally
Prisoner to whichever way the wind blow 40
Miles behind the winds,
Loved ones getting caught up on chapters, long closed,
Stories if ever shared, would be new news to those close
Byproduct of everything we’ve been through
Skills resisted to be used or call upon.

Posted in 2017, New Stuff

Redacted: Destructive Artwork

Unlike the past, these words stand now as their own crutch

Meant to be relied upon like a sports superstar in the clutch

Skill un-threatened by a leprechaun offering good luck,

Power like a four-wheel drive stuck in the mud

Inspiration from past failures, to stay up and study

Free men and women, prisoners all, to the purpose of love

Family and friend here to provide the often presumed, much needed a hug

By our sides till wars end; allies who never fret over what was said

Those just as thirsty for revenge; so thirsty it’s never enough

The unkempt appearance of a well-dressed man without any cuffs

Bitterness from knowing, destiny stops at the cusp of greatness

Crude actions and reactions meant to be gradually perceived

A direct synonym of what it means in modern day terms, to gain value

What it means to face answer-less questions all over again

When the concept of those very answers are reflections of past pain

An ability to transform concepts into works of art, works craft from paint

An ability to recreate anguish from a mere stain

An ability to plagiarize things, so they’re exactly the same

Malice actions, each one, done with little to no shame

As if to manipulate has become the newest sports game we all play

Those able to leave a room with nothing productive to say

Those able to see things for what they are and not just portrayed

Reserved to only react upon the first who’d willingly betray

Sunday preachers, known more for how they’ve stayed from the path

Witnesses dressed as pastors, witnesses to past sins reborn a new

Happy thoughts drowned out by the nightmares of unpaid dues

As if all this agonizing imagery is but a preview of what’s yet to come

Horrified by this notion, what happens when the deeds are done

When we’re left asking how could you be so dumb

Dumb like an aspiring boxer who knowing they can’t take a punch

Criminals unprepared to face any punishment

Unaware how such coward-ness diminish an act

Those whose detract meaning from scripture

Unable to witness art within destruction

Soldiers of war who just follow instructions

Consequences man will never be able to just redact.

Posted in 2017, New Stuff


            These words were developed as a response to years of questions raised regarding the merit of sharing so much.  An internal inquiry of these thoughts and this ability to translate them into words; a worry if it is still worth it to continue this thankless work.  Personal concern over needs which follow like a pack of fans, needs to be written and remembered for all time, not just for now…the story behind my reason to keep writing.

Now more than ever, this is needed,
The reasons to awake and blindly believe.
Faced with facts, born to be disagreed with, even if it makes us naive
Forms of common sense that ain’t so common,
Where everyone’s merely quick to reappraise whats already been done,
So much so, rare is the air where our forward thoughts can be forward enough
Too scared to even go far enough to redefine what we deem as trust
Answers never expected to speak up, no matter how much we push
Conformed to instead feel more for simple needs, needed to impress
Court jesters all of us, here to amuse kings and their empresses
Actions defined by history, acts used to define what however is any’s guess
Well aware, we’re more or less, less than concerned for the rest
Games of chance, more like games of chess
Both simple and complex differences, like how two deal with their stress
One who grows stronger as it gets harder while the other, just digresses
Finite details which separate and thus lead to this denigrated tone
Those who dare to proclaim they’ll be better off when it’s all said and done
Virgin to the concept of growth and how it encompasses the sum of all it parts
The challenge to never neglect a single heart and mind
A daily open challenge, made to cater and protect like an ark
Were painters are free to create what’s yet to be deemed a piece of art work
Poets so evolved, its no longer possible to translate thoughts with mere words
Veteran stage actors who only get so much from rehearsal,
Made to act without the faces of an audience, where the real drama occurs
Those drawn to these pieces of art; admiration and observation from a far
Men and women quick to latch to the next burning start
As if, its all the start of something new and different
Transformed from stranger to witness, just without the reason
Ready-made testimony, made to be reappraised to the masses with ease
Opposition to the truth, truth never to be record to memory
Genuine reasons to wake up and still continue blindly believing
Needed, more now than ever before.

Posted in 2017, New Stuff

Rates of Change

Once again I close my eyes and let these words lead their own way,
Similar to a dream turned distant memory when finally fully awoken,
Brought back to life, here, from these facts, forced to face, here,
Facts, most if not all, all about being too afraid to admit to fears of the unknown,
Like an Olympic sprinter who needs more than anything to win this race;
As any possible disgrace pales in comparison to these visions of coming in last place.
The type of mental anguish, life tattoos on faces,
Prisoner to these remorse-filled moments; acts of a twisted divine fate,
As if the fault here lies in the administration of our faith
Horrified like a slave accused of not knowing their place
A child left to themselves and thoughts of future punishment,
Left to contemplate; consequences for even the slightest past mistakes
When it was actually predestined, we would take these very missteps.
A slight mishap that would also slightly affect any future happiness,
Secrets from mothers to their sons before they leave the nest,
“For no creature was meant to see so clearly, in regards to what comes next.”
Monsters behind the makeup, aka the unknown;
Prophesy of how still, even now our greatest test is still yet to come,
Problems to be solved; built from knowledge, given appropriate time to digest;
Where each, is meant to search for answers to our hearts desires.
What any would work for, for forever; jobs no woman or man retire from,
On par with any prize, prize possession, we’d all do anything to get back,
For any amount of ransom; why whatever it is,
Any can acknowledge a gift once provided was never just random,
Not when we’re stopped to be asked, “look how far you’ve run my daughter or son?”,
The distinct few, well aware of the cost associated to get shit done, day by day.
Ghost of yesteryears, witnesses to all that’s been lost through the years;
Byproduct of modern times, designed so far too many live pay check to pay check,
Those born adjoined to a new form of an indestructible chain.
Aspects of prehistoric and modern-day society, both now and forever the same,
Well aware of these facts, whether then or now; it’s all just a game to be played;
Where real winners really lose,
The gifted, who others only happily look too when blame needs cast,
Those born, well aware of the role cast for them
The feel of either a MLK or Malcolm X before either bullet;
Enlightenment able to grasp the very chaos laid out before us,
Insight to see beyond all that ales; depth and perspective of a ballet
A perfect medley, meant to be cherished as it swallowed down
A thought so profound, very few should dare to complain with any disdain;
Enough distain to reflect only hate upon a theory or hypothesis turned debate;
A baseless debate at that, of what’s been; aka, the derivative.
My very own personal rate of change.

Posted in 2016, New Stuff

Life’s Pension Plan

For a moment, put down your bags and follow
The perspective of a bird as it looks below
A life you’re invited to merely barrow
Meeting our actor, stranded on the road of life
Pain, concealed within the fabric of a lie (5)
Something not known by those closest, why they deny
Unaware of who and what comes alive at night
Byproduct of each methodical cut from a frienemies knife
People who take the price of friendship for granted
Self medicating just to stop feeling like an ant (10)
Walked over, always fearful of being stepped on; games of chance
A lack of trust, hard to understand
As fragile and delicate as a castle in the sand
Such little faith, its transformed itself into a mark of shame
To know regardless, each bond made will end the same (15)
Bonds born to be changed; the aim of evolution
Situations preserved in a mental picture frame
Pictures preserved in time; a screen shot of blame
With all the ales of a concussion to the brain
Causes and effects, that drive any insane (20)
Left out, looking in; where normal is strange
Passenger aboard a run away train
What happens when wild animals are tamed
Those who act as if everything is one big game
Dismissive of every last morsel of grain (25)
Player in a contest with nothing real to be gained from it
The sight of a comet at a glance
Lost at sea; waiting to hear over the horizon, lies land
On trail; made to stand for what been done
Made to pay for what’s no longer; life’s pension plan (30)

Posted in 2016, New Stuff, Thoughts

Thoughts: Checkmate

How much can one mind take; endless questions of faith in mankind
Held down by this disease the body can barely shake
Prisoner to these ideals; witness to how our new world’s taken shape
How it’s expected, we’re to act like we don’t see all this hate on our TV screen
Negative thoughts brought forth with no real reason 5
As if to think positive of another is an act of treason
What they’d have us all think, all us criminals think about upon release
Sentiments which burn over time, like anything left to freeze
Byproduct of an inability to merely agree on what it is to be free
Spectator to another play, all based off another’s greed for more 10
Well aware things are far from even if we actually kept score
An observation of, ‘these days’ as they continue to head to the fork in the road
Conflict derived from an unwanted marriage, built off something new and old
Anger over what’s long been acknowledged as past due and owed
The exact opposite of what portrayed and showed 15
As if this plight is merely entertainment, a script for a new show
Exploitation which comes across as zero below degrees;
A cold act, an illustration of how we’ve today developed and grown.
The perspective of a free man who remembers; like property we we’re owned
Unwanted anywhere except where we’re meant to be, foreigner in a new town 20
Peasants bought to merely wipe down and clean the crown
Past, present, and future, all same; possibly even more dire than that sounds
On the run for life as society turns a blind eye to its supposed hounds of justice
Innocent or guilty, found in possession of disease that require we all die
At risk as even these very words are typed 25
In a battle for survival, that has little to do with might
Wrong regardless; regardless whether or not you were right in the first place
Told subconsciously, sit with the understanding, first remember our place
A direct translation of the body language written upon every last muted face
Telephone operators who could careless how long you sit to wait 30
Those quick to pick up, seconds after its too late
Only available to talk when this game if chess we call life, is at checkmate

Posted in 2016, New Stuff


Like anything forbidden, the worst part is the start,
An ode to the poker players; heart and soul gamblers,
Labeled fools for looking so forward to fail,
Privileged to say, they touched heaven right before they fell,
Cursed to eternally obey this unspoken spell; (5)
Yesterday’s successful businessman, beyond your’s and my help,
Like when politicians struggle to relate to themselves,
So lost, all that’s left of them is a bunch of ‘stuff’ on a shelf,
A lifetime as hallow as the sounds from a sea shell,
Too focused on the big picture to ever care for the finer details, (10)
Regrets we all chase like a dog with its tail
Steps to avoid, as if it’s possible to know all the steps it entails,
Moments it pays to be more turtle or snail instead hare
70-year-old men, still waking up missing their hair
Pieces of our whole existence, superficial but also vital as air (15)
Things we miss most when they’re no longer their
Lessons learned best, when life wasn’t being fair;
Stranded with a flat tire, with no more road flares,
Well aware, the later into the night this goes, the less people care
Family and friends who wouldn’t visit you in intensive care (20)
At the mercy of strangers, with little to no tendency to share
Nameless faces, all lacking the self-respect to never stare
The worst and best of human nature; how best to compare both
Traits used to define humanity; old as the oak on trees
What pushes some and not all to their knees (25)
An unspoken spell, cast in secret so it’s eternally obeyed
Cast out from the heavens; forever in search of a new haven
Labeled fool for finding one among the fallen
Poker players, playing for forbidden gems;
Why the worst part is when it starts all over again. (30)