Everything is black —
I can’t remember much
Just the touch of the Angels that’s helping me up.
Looking at my stiffened body is chilling.
Throw my head back – the smoke has me ascending.
Deep breathes spread the embers that keep my soul lit.
I find myself walking towards the light with a regrettable peacefulness.
The roots have been spoiled with magic and shaded by myths.
Is this a test?
A trust testament of my growth or just the repercussions of my actions.
I am at a loss for words, incomplete sentences like ad-libs.
I am wondering.
Searching for the nouns like symbols and the beats of adjectives like mad-lib.
I am running.
Racing my shadow like I’ve rescued my inner child.
Now we’re crying so hysterically it turns into laughter.
Everything is black.
Don’t lose sight of the light.
I close both my eyes, but
Leave the third one open-wide.
Absorbing and Transforming,
Life is a canvas already been painted on; which color will you use to highlight the accents?
How many ways can I contrast the madness?
We are often too busy adding structure to the broken pedestals that once seated those you placed highly.
Deceived if depth can’t be seen without views of the horizon.
Still can’t hear me yelling – only seeing me naked.
This one really speaks to me…
Eye can’t teach them to listen.
Splatter paint like emotion wherever I go.
The world is my canvas. I create in the shadows.
Wash that mask, under that mask, beneath the skin.
Peel the flesh back like old pages.
This book is blank just like the canvas.
Invisible ink disguised as experience.
Squeeze the color out my veins, and witness the light ooze through pores.
Decorating the pews they are glued to.
Stained with the truth not illustrated on the glass.
Looking out the window is living in the past.
Breaking that window is living.
I’m breaking my silence how trees uproot sidewalks.
I belong in the street.
Driving myself crazy, playing hide-n-go-seek with self-identity.
Don’t be lazy.
Chasing my tears to the waterfall of my dreams.
Now I’m glowing..
I stay woke.
Picture ya life on the subway –
Labeled a runaway.
Always taught to chase dreams, but catching them was never imagined.
On the train til infinity, where every malfunction exceeds a boundary.
The sky ain’t the limit, its the ticket.
What’s the difference?
I can see beyond the colors of the prism.
I have touched many moons.
Floating – weightless –
Healing myself, still doctoring the wounds from when they severed the ties to my portal.
The only home I’ve known, now it just seems as if love don’t live here no more…
So I roam.
Telling the streets my secrets.
Leaving tattoos when I spit the words penetrate the skin.
The concrete cracks.
A Rose emerges.
The train door closes before I even look back…
I pricked myself on the thorns, I wail as the horn sounds…I realize
My overstanding reality is under attack.
Still in a room,
A broken mirror reflects flawless smiles of all those that once stared before it.
Gleaming eyes looking for themselves in fragments of light.
I can’t yet see through.
My tears and the street lights create stained glass.
Looking at memories abandoned in pictures, and the pain that is sheltered, buried, and concealed in temples.
Shattered and now broken open.
I pick up the pieces with the roughest edges first.
I cut myself — countless times.
It hurts not to scream!
As a child you are taught that silence is comforting,
Explicitly a fools gold, a dastardly violence.
The blood has been contaminated with secrecy.
Life’s own mystery;
What good is the knowledge of hystori if the truth never gets told?
I see myself in rare form….beautiful….
This bigger picture envisioned is actually a puzzle;
we are each others pieces.
There are no borders, filters, nor frames….
Regardless not everyone fits, still you are..
Paint the face of peace.
White out the traces of hatred.
Sing songs of intellect
Plaster over the discouragement of humility.
Dance to the rhythm of equality
Recognize the facade.
Don’t act creativity – live it.
Pasting together actions creating history
Write the motivation of the movement
Photograph the mirror of the future- YOU(th).
Play the instruments of demonstration.
Let the vibrations travel through souls uplifting unity in all.
Draw lines of tolerance…
Sculpt minds of awareness…molding our revolution.
There is no price on art – art is ones soul.
They say money makes the world go round, but the buck stops here. How much do you cost?…plus tax.
Yo! First off, I would just like to say that growing up is such an experience ! Throughout the failure and the success, I just really feel myself learning & becoming more wise throughout these years !
Secondly, I would just like to add that doing what you love may not always be easy, but let me tell you the satisfaction from the struggle is worth it all ! You have to work for what you love, and if you love what you do it doesnt feel like you’ve worked at all! Everything takes time, that doesn’t mean sit around and wait for it to fall in your lap, it means until that time comes – GO GET IT !
To experience stress and pressure, better yet the test of my Faith in myself ! and just keeping the faith that it WILL work ! Its not only knowing it, not only feeling it, but not settling for LESS. The people I surround myself with i.e My Teammates & My Family, the people I speak to on a more intimate level of relationships/friendships…..Man I Love You ALL. Seriously
Not Only 2013, but these YEARS ARE MINE ! Im WORKING for it ALL.
Im doing what I Love !
Writing, Playing Basketball, Learning ! …Yo Im just truly blessed I am doing all these things that make me happy. I will not keep taking advantage of life !
NOW IS THE TIME TO LIVE!