"My Kind" - The Want, The Need And Ludovico...

"...white clouds..."

Ludovico drowns it all out for me and allows me to see what I want to say as the need to speak arises. Listening to a piece of music without lyrics is where the centered you can be heard the loudest.  The most life changing answers can only come from one's own experience without outside influence getting in the way.  Especially if that outside influence has something to gain from your conclusion. The music is the question, the lyrics you form for yourself are the answers you seek...

Now, onto the "want" and the "need"...

I reconnected with someone many years ago whose beauty is so stark it frightens most men.  Was it her face?  Yes  Was it her body?  Yes...  Yet what jarred men and impressed me the most was her grasp on the power she wielded.  I am not one to play "the game" but her command of it was the most powerful I have ever seen to date.  My brother ignited my curiosity in laughter...shaking his head at what he had just witnessed after sitting with her for the first time in years.  He told me that I had to talk to her because "she would be the one to present a challenge to me".  He told me "She is hot but what is scary...is how sharp she is" and to impress my brother takes quite a bit so I had to find out for myself.  Speaking with her had me titillated with glee because I knew I was entertaining a chessmaster that thought from my look...I was partial to checkers.  Except that after the game was done, she found something out...I was not playing.  I saw move after move in front of me.  One by one, she took my pawns.  She trounced my rook and took my Queen.  Yelling checkmate at the end only to look up and see me smirking.  She knew then that she was playing by herself.  It's easy to win like that but you see, that is MY move.  A move that drew the conclusion I am usually faced with...."I can't be with you...".  There is more to that conclusion but I'll save it for another day.  Folks, if you know my style of writing, this chess game is just another metaphor of our conversation but that last part...is a recalled moment.  Our real chess game consisted of her questioning me with scenarios of "what if I did "this"..." and my answers were too final in that they revealed to her my inability to be controlled due to something simple. There was nothing she had that I found myself needing.  If she threatened to leave, I would show her the door.  If she withheld sex, I would use my hand.  If she flirted with a man, I would do the same with a woman without it being regarded as an act of vengeance because in my rulebook..."the aggressor sets the rules".  There was no meal she could prepare and no gift she could give that would make me subservient in any way shape or form.  No tricks to play on me that would have had her Lording over me in any way, shape or form.  Something she felt "required" after an abusive marriage.  My rules were too simplistic to be real.  Give what you can and so will I.  Give nothing and I will continue giving until I am spent.  The freedom to say "I love you" and "I want you" was too real to just accept without feeling as though something is owed by these beautiful words alone.  You see, I just wanted her but that wasn't enough and sadly...it usually isn't...

To truly want someone is to require nothing from them...but them.  No rules, no schedules.  No requirements needed...just an open heart.  Something, that if reciprocated becomes a medley of pure magic unsurpassed by the norms of society.  Yet understanding that a want, depending on how deep it goes can turn into an acquired need that can still be let go and too many have suffered the pain of loss that they have come to use "needs" as an insurance policy.  It is not an intended evil as most would use it but for a certain few, it is a defense mechanism against the pain of loss.  To me, I find that at it's unseen root, it's just a subtle justification for manipulation and it has the detrimental effect of stifling the fullness of true love.  I understand it and when I see it I do my best to assuage those fears but if I can't...then I can't.  It is the same reason why many will subconsciously seek out those they believe are less attractive or have issues that need tending so they can stay in some form of command. Something that usually drastically backfires.  Now, this beautiful powerhouse and I never went any further than an awesome friendship spanning years now.  So lest you think I'm speaking ill of her, I can tell you that she is one the better friends I still have to this day and this chess game we had at our inception was what drew us even closer because what my "kind" and I honor most of all...is brutal honesty.  We still sparingly speak to this day and she may just curse me out after reading this but of course...it's what we do.  Powerful, stubborn, brutally honest and beautiful.  Like I said..."my kind".

As "my kind" there was only one thing I wanted her to see.  That her power was strong enough to merit reins because "to whom much is given, much is required".  Just to use it responsibly and understand that it doesn't come from inside her but that it's actually inside everyone else.  Does the moon hold the same sway over every heart?  No...just those that can be "triggered" back to the beautiful memory of a lived or imagined scene.  She holds a powerful trigger...as I do.   Yet how do you teach this to someone like me?  Ludovico my friends...she saw it after awhile and became responsible in her dramatic pull.  As an aside, she used the same Ludovico method on me through her shared experiences and after awhile...I got some things too.  "My kind" usually have something to teach and I am blessed to have them in my life.  We don't need each other to breathe but we love putting on each other's respirators from time to time.  I'm out...

~Moses Apollo

Strength Of The Broken...

"I'm more than a bird, I'm more than a plane, I'm more than some pretty face beside a train..."

Ceaseless, unending and relentless is the heart of the broken that have chosen to fight.  To fight on even though they have lost internal limbs.  To fight beyond inundations of doubt and fear brought on by the perpetual assault from those they have come to love or trust.  Even to fight beyond the physical assaults they have faced.  Their scars are clearly seen with eyes that can recognize them but the one thing they will never allow you to see...is their pain.

When pain sets in, they recoil that none should sense even a hint of vulnerability.  They lock inside that part which must be healed or resolved.  Waiting for it to pass as it always does lest someone touch that part and bring about a healing that will engender a trust they cannot afford to believe in. They cry alone to heal alone and you will never know it.

These are your champions.  These are the ones you turn to for help and council.  These are the ones that will listen all hours into the night until sleep overtakes you.  These broken have allowed their broken bones to heal stronger and their scars to heal numb.  All that they may tolerate more and take more than the average individual.  Acquiring a threshold for pain that is off the charts.  You think them impervious to pain or loss but nothing could be further from the truth as they feel it all without ever showing it.  All without a cry for help.  All without grit teeth or even a grimace.

You're not there when they cry themselves to sleep at night but are ever present when they speak on the glories found from the hope of a new day.  You're not there when they are turned away by friends and family they've supported but are moved to hear them speak on forgiveness and understanding. They have very few they turn to for help if anyone at all.  Pain is no friend...but he is an acquaintance they have come to learn from.

So let it stand in this my screed concerning the strong that this is no complaint.  Nor is it a cry for help.  Instead let this serve two purposes:

First, to let the supposed weak know that your heros were once just like you looking for guidance all the same and if you admire them now, then rejoice as you witness all future strength you may inherit..

Secondly, to let the strong know that you are not alone.  To let you know that I see you as I see myself inasmuch as we all share the same burden albeit with differing names.  We do as we do because we must and unlike the foolhardy soul that says "I feel nothing", we say instead "I can take it..."  I "see" you...be at peace...

Who will teach the broken?  Save life itself... 

~Moses Apollo  

Little Moe and The Old Man - Ode To The Body and Soul

"I knew a man who got lost in the big dark blue...and came out alive. I knew a boy, I knew a man who looked a lot like you..."

It was a Friday night and the sun was just about to go down.  I hit the park to people watch as I usually did.  A young man in a huge city.  A body and a face with not much else but a sense of piety. I found a bench to sit on and began taking in the humans.  Taking in body language, smiles, glares, lovers, friends and those meeting for the first time.  I noticed to my right an old man and his walker approaching the bench I was sitting on and just as I figured, he took a seat.  After he took a seat, he began to wave to a young man holding flowers as if to tell him..."relax"...

We start talking and it turns out the old man was this young man's grandfather.  He tells me that his grandson is meeting this woman that he has been corresponding with for the first time.  This young man was a mess because he fell in love without ever having seen her.  The old man began telling the story and I was perplexed because I was still young enough to reluctantly believe love could visit the heart unseen. He perceived my disbelief so he began his lesson by pointing out a man in the background.  He said "You see that man? Big muscles, great looking face? That man has been met by at least five women in the past month alone and he still ain't satisfied. If you watch him walk, he walks with the swagger of a man that owns the world and women look at him with hunger but he still can't find love. My grandson poured his heart into letters and this woman he is about to meet did the same. Unseen...they found love. The countless women that want muscle man over there have no desire to know who he is, they just want his body and could care less about his soul but my grandson has a soul that attracts those that truly desire to know him and even more...to love him".  I sat taking in this lesson as though this man was a messenger from God Himself.  He said "You see, this man has no idea that what he has is worthless on it's own. He thinks he owns the world with his body when the truth is, the world owns him. His self-worth is completely tied into being wanted by his body so he is trapped by his own pride. So ask yourself, what pride is there in the idea that women want your body when all they see and care about is the shell that deteriorates over time?  My grandson on the other hand, is wanted for something that can only grow in grace over time so what he carries has way more value and the by-product of that is the attraction of those of greater value.  He can't brag because he honestly feels humbled by it and that also adds to his manhood.  He impresses me.  That other man is not impressive to me at all and just so you know, I had a long chat with him one day so this is not me judging by appearances.  So young man, choose what you will represent...the good man inside or the shell that carries him..."

We sat and watched the beautiful union take place.  I can tell you she was a looker that carried herself with grace and style.  Reluctant and awkward was their first meeting but beaming smiles led to the longest, most sincere embrace one could witness.  We sat and talked for hours even after his grandson had left to go eat with his new love.  After the old man left, I sat in amazement over what just happened.  What I had learned, I knew was for me to apply to my own walk.

Needless to say, I took this man's words to heart and decided I was to cultivate both body and soul.  I made the pursuit of physical growth a manifestation of my soul's determination to excel which is why I am so annoyingly philosophical about training.  I can boast over them that want my body but I know it means nothing more than a funny story to tell.  I see nothing wrong with them "wanting" that as it is human so long as they're willing to look deeper and find more to want but I could never lord over anyone about a list of women that want me because that holds no bearing towards my growth. My greatest elation has and will always come from those that read something I wrote and are moved by something I said that stayed with them for years.  By sharing my heart and having the listener/reader find out that true love still exists, that beauty can be found in the simplest of places or that raw truth can bring about existential change.

I scoff at those that think themselves grand by the body they wear simply because they are wanted by many when all that the "many" want can be replaced by fingers, a hand and some private time in the bathroom.  You want to impress me?  Show me something that is irreplaceable. Show me the masses that want you for your soul.  Show me something that I can't find anywhere else but inside you. Otherwise, save your hubris for those that are impressed by the superficial.  There is no greater turn-off to me than a woman that believes they can be as disrespectful as they want simply because they believe you fear to lose them by your response.  As though they think themselves so grand to be beyond reproach.  In turn there is nothing sexier to me than an outwardly beautiful woman that exudes grace, humility and respect.  Even though she is wanted by many, she still knows her truist value lays within her heart.  It lessens a man when he does the same as he should feel honored as opposed to entitled that this many want him.  Everyone must come to their own conclusion as to what they want to be wanted for.  You will never be able to change entirely how people view you but you sure as hell can lead them in the right direction.  Yet how people view you is not at issue if you truly are aware of who you are but what is at issue is what is worth more to you...your body, your soul or the harmony of both.

~Moses Apollo

I Often Wonder...

"birds fly over the rainbow, why then oh why can't I?..."

In this era of "me", I have heard many speak about "being happy".  As though this can be attained through gestures or trinkets outside themselves.  They speak in terms of possession or circumstance. If only "I had this".  If only "I were".  If only "I had someone that"...you fill in the blanks.  We hear these things will be the pay-off to a long, hard fought, exhausting road.  Yet when you see the men and women that actually have what is supposedly required for happiness, it's still...never enough.

So I look back to imagine what I'd want to lay ahead of me and try to remember times when I was the closest to what some would consider happy.  My memories serve me up to the present day not to want creature comforts that will dull my mind or to desire sycophantic praise but that I should choose life, love and living the best way I know how and in other ways I've yet to discover.  I have always said that culminations may be sweet but the journey towards them are so much sweeter.  To be able to see yourself inching closer to your heart's desire provides a journey's worth of "happy". Which is why after every goal met...I set a new one just ahead.

My "happy" is too simple for most.  To impossibly see the ones I love prosper in all things...especially in spirit.  To be impossibly known as I know myself.  To impossibly know love as I know to love.  To impossibly succeed in becoming the man of honor I want to be and to impossibly leave my mark in the hearts of those I have come across.  That I should know eternity on earth as well as in heaven.  The beauty of my happy is that I will never see these things to completion as they require a lifelong journey.  That's the only thing that makes them impossible.  I will attain nothing but glimpses and it's those tiny glimpses...that make me happy.  In this world of chaos and turmoil, think on this my loves...much love my people...

~Moses Apollo

Canyons Of Hope...

"I fell apart, but got back up again..."

I remember the adrenaline rush of being chased by the NYPD that ended in a beat down after getting caught.  Dirt, grit and grime at my feet in a 12x12 cell.  16 yrs old with an impulse to strangle a man in his sleep for takin the only steel bunk available.  A cold dirty floor to sleep on with bars at my left and a toilet seat at my right.  I could blame the friends that introduced me to this or my parents for letting me roam free but then I realized....I did this.  The crack in my despair came as I silently sang a hymn holding onto the bars of my temporary home with my face pressed against their cold steel. The anger slowly melting off me.  The man on my bunk woke up and as he began to speak...introspection took hold. We spoke about my life and he finally said "You're stupid for being here...".  He was right.  When I came through, I did what was needed in a spirit of gratitude...

I remember my beautiful pregnant wife and I living in a one bedroom apartment stuffed with furniture not placed proper yet.  Queen sized bed in the living room with just the moonlight seeping through the 10 dollar shades I installed on the windows.  19 years old and scared...wonderin what to do.  Could I become the man I'm supposed to be?  I can blame teenage angst and passion but then I realized...I chose this.  The crack in my despair came as I layed down and held her close.  She slept on my chest and with every second that I held her tighter, I knew we would be ok.  I did what was needed in a spirit of gratitude...

I remember the 17 years that passed within a successful marriage to then willingly become a man that chose to be alone.  Living in a one bedroom lair for 4 years designed for sin and sanctuary.  Living out the artistry of love and lust combined.  Lost within a part of myself I never knew existed and never got the chance to know.  Absinthe, prescription opioids and sleeping pills keepin me in a two to four month haze.  Larger than life across oceans as an unnamed ethically criminal talent.  Deep in everything and nothing.  I could blame my heart, the drug companies or the economy for my plight but then I realized...I opted for this.  The crack in my despair came when I looked in the mirror to find sunken eyes and my color drained.  I went to bed and dreamt the sound of rattle snakes under my bed and after two weeks of solitary pain, I told them to leave...they did.  Nighttime silence and rest brought me to the mirror to see my color come back and my sight restored to see clearly again.  To know I would never go back to the extremes I tested but to find a beautiful balance instead.  I did what was needed in a spirit of gratitude...

I faced other trials as a parent since then but those I'll leave for another day. On this blog you read the words of a man that does his best to imbue your mind with realistic encouragement.  To fill you with words of inspiration that may or may not get you moving towards something better but I need you to understand where that comes from.  It comes from sticking my hands in garbage knowing it was garbage.  Seeing the worst in men and women...in my heroes, in my saints and in me.  Recognizing and acknowledging that the filth is real and palpable.  Living through challenges as though they were sporting events as opposed to living them as though they were meant to define my life.  A man that came to know that life is neither light nor dark but it is in fact both and that knowing the truth of both is to find the reasoning behind most journeys.  A reasoning that keeps a man from the bondage of bitterness and anger from plight and pain.  I eventually came to the truth that "this too shall pass" isn't just an empty platitude...it's the truth.

Most times you will read self-help books and regurgitate quotes from people that live with their heads in the clouds or up their esoteric asses.  They often see no evil in men.  Some may moan and cry about a hangnail.  Others take offense easily because you may dirty their rainbow with real talk of earth.  Their skin is so thin...untested and unscarred.  My optimism doesn't come from books, it comes from living them out from inside.  It doesn't come from the rainbow, it comes from the rain.  It is sprung from a place of deep dark pessimism that I have taken an ax to until it bleeds an optimistic light of truth that affords me the hope I need to endure that dark.  Living the life of constant challenge I have lived affords me every excuse in the book to be bitter.  To place blame on this or that but that would be living a lie.  That is the life of a weak man unwilling to make course corrections.  Unwilling to see where he is wrong...staying in the same place of darkness.  Yet I have been a witness to a fact. That in every dark situation I have encountered, I have always been able to see a light shine through. No matter how small, if you look...you will find it.  It is in that moment that you take your ax and begin to get at it...making it bigger with every damn strike.  With every new exposition of light, it grows until it overtakes the darkness completely.  Turning that little crack into a canyon of hope that you can draw from.  That says, "I may be in a bad way now...but I can get through this better than before".  Creating the epiphany for real deep change.

So I will tell you this now: Never deny the ugly that is present with an imagined fluffy unmerited hope as that will only keep you in the same darkness under an imagined light.  Sh*t is sh*t and no amount of air freshener can mask it.  See it for what it is.  See it in your friend that f*cked you over. See it in the f*cked up retaliatory move you made.  See it in the crime you commited.  See it in the affair you had and in the lie you told.  See it in the affair your mate had.  Your crack comes in owning up to any responsibility you have and sometimes in the forgiveness of another but after that, don't be the fluffy idiot thinkin that because you've forgiven them, they now get off easy or that because you admitted your sin, you or they are absolved of consequence.  Forgive the smell of sh*t but flush it when you need to.  See the dark, accept it but find the true light you need to overcome it based in the present reality.  I promise you, that light will be there when you need it.  See it, build on it and bathe in it.  Expect the worst, hope for the best and you will not face the despair of disappointment.  If the best comes, you will be grateful...the true cog of happiness...much love

~Moses Apollo

Naked...

Have you ever stood naked in front of a mirror and critiqued your own aesthetic?  Where you turn to your right and your left.  Where you stand in attention and see how you can rectify every flaw.  What needs fixing...what flows just right.  Some realistically critique according to what God has naturally given them while others erroneously critique by comparing themselves to what they've see in a magazine or on television.  Most are afraid to do this because they usually hate what they see and they know exactly what it will take to fix it all.  It saddens me that most decide to put back on that cute dress that hides the tire they could diet and work down.  Or they put on that shirt that makes their shoulders look wider than they really are.  Shoulders that would take a good month of lateral raises to bring out.  They do this and are once again happy with themselves.  As though they never saw themselves naked.  A delusion most consider harmless but one I call a shadow delusion.  I try to never focus on the shadow of a thing but the substance.  In cases like these, if the substance is deluded the same way, it could very well mean that the soul is just as hidden as the body.  Facades I see growing daily...facades that tire me to no end.

Someone beautiful once said to me in passing as I was perusing celebrity women's photos..."Everyone looks good in clothes".

She really had no idea how profound that statement was.  It is a truth that passes the thresholds of the body into the soul.  I have always trained with the idea that one day I will be standing naked before "judgement".  In the eyes of God...but also before men.  I could never delude myself into believing that the clothes I look good in are enough to make me feel better about who I am underneath.  So I decide to stand (transparent) naked more times than not.  If you can't see the flaw, I will show you. So yes, train the outerman (shadow) with the purest intent.  Give all you have to the artistry found in its design but don't ever forget to train what is most important. Above all, train the innerman (substance) most will never see as that is the beauty that extends into all else.  That is what you share in breath. That is what you share in love.  It is what motivates you to create an outer design worthy of all you are becoming inside.  It's how we stand apart and unique...where the rarest beauty is found.  It is so precious that it cannot be shared without true purpose or merit.  Want to truly improve?  Do so naked...

My shadow is before you all...what of my substance?...what of yours? Much love...

~Moses Apollo 

The New World - A Kings Confession...

"...weeping...no more..."

For the past two weeks the king has fiercely wrestled in his heart.  Wrestling with a loss that had reason but no purpose or lesson from which to draw.  Wrestling with different directions his heart could venture.  Wrestling at the direction his princes would purpose for themselves.  Yet his greatest thorn has come from the concept of change in the new world that may be just a few more weeks away.  A world where everyone would be fireproof when he has been so accustomed to dowsing flames that would bring about destruction.  His heart has been heavy and his mind constricted with none really knowing just how grieved he truly was.  He's adorned a facade of normalcy but those that know him best see that he hasn't been himself.  Attributing it to everything but the cause.  Tonight he is laden heavy with an exhaustion he cannot seem to free himself from.  Yet he is the king and he will endure this to fruition as he always has at every rung in the kings ladder.

Why is it so difficult to accept something good?  Why can't we accept that not everything will blow up?  Maybe it's because when you struggle for so long to keep things right, it's hard to just relax when you get them to stay that way without the same amount of effort.  I have come to the conclusion that this is the reason why a few fall into the same cycles.  We seek the familiar even though it was bad for us because we've learned how to mitigate them.  We fear the unknown even when the unknown includes peace.  Usually people fall into cycles because they believe themselves unworthy of better but there are cases like these where what we're accustomed to trumps the better.  It's like a fighter getting into a ring with no opponent.  He will shadowbox for the duration of the fight because he's just so used to swinging.  He's trained for it all his life but on this night, he will leave unbruised.  His cut man will have nothing to do.  His trainer won't be shouting out directions to him.  He will stand there swinging without the reward of the challenge.  It sounds great for many but for warriors...it is just existing without the thrill of that initial bell...

My saving grace is that I will always have an opponent.  Read this blog long enough and you'll see that my greatest opponent is none other than myself.  My drive to improve has no limits.  It has no end.  To seek out the best in me is one of my life's greatest accomplishments that can only be fully realized in death and glory.  I guess I'll always have something to complain about then huh?  We'll soon see...

~Moses Apollo 

An Experiment In Breath...

"...Yo it’s crazy, amazing. We can turn our heart through the words we say.

Mountains crumble with every syllable. Hope can live or die..."

Picture yourself sitting in an empty classroom. You're sitting right by the chalkboard. Hands and feet tied to a chair by white strips of cloth. It's midday. The room lights are on yet some blinds are drawn and others only slightly so. A man opens the door, walks across the back of the classroom. Makes his way to the chalkboard where you are and stands right behind you. He puts on a glove with fingertips of metal on his right hand and proceeds to scratch the top of the chalkboard to it's very bottom...

Did you feel that? The cringe inside created by the sound of metal scratching the chalkboard? Look around. There's no classroom, chalkboard or man. Then what just happened? That is the power of "breath" or as you call it...words. If I stood before you and told you this story, all I would have to do after the story was told is mimic the gesture and you would still feel it even after I told you how it was done. Yet here I sit. Miles away and I'm still able to "create" something inside you. This is no "trick"...

Watch your words. They are "spirit" (breath) and have more power than you know. You can create despair, fear and hate or you can create hope, faith and love. It's up to you...I'm out

~Moses Apollo  

Mirrored Expectations...

"All I want is you..."

How many times have you come across a beautiful suit for sale in a storefront window.  It looks perfect on the mannequin and you naturally assume it would be perfect on you.  You don't hesitate because the price is right.  You give the salesperson your measurements and you take it home.  You try it on and it looks ok but within two weeks and two wearings, it's already looking ragged.  What happened?  The suit was beautiful but the fabric and stitching was cheap.  Then again, what did you expect for $89.99?  You were a victim of false advertising and so it is with humans that outwardly Peacock what they don't inwardly possess...

What do I mean?  I'm talking about those types that say whatever they think any "interest" around them wants to hear.  It's like carrying around a fully laminated resume ready to pull out when opportunity strikes.  I love reading posts on Facebook from beautiful women when they ask "What would a date with you look like?"  What is then posted becomes one cliche after another.  I almost expect theme music at the reading of some of them.  You no doubt get "roses", "champagne" and let's not forget the famous "walk on the beach".  After all is written and the unassuming women have swooned into their male posters' fragile egos, I purposely decide to write the obvious.  "I can't tell you what I will do until I know who we are talking about because one size does not fit all!!!"  To which I am met with yawns and light praise which incidentally makes me chuckle.  No one bothers to ask if she's allergic to flowers or maybe she prefers a specific flower to the ordinary fare.  What if she doesn't drink?  In such a case, wouldn't it be better suited to her if you purchased a non-alcoholic brand?  As for the beach?  What if it's December in New York?  You still gonna take her?  I'm sure you'll be able to feel the skin of her palm through them thick ass gloves...how romantic.

Listen folks, I find amusement in this not at the expense of those that do this stuff but at the expense of formulas that have nothing to do with what makes anything special.  Especially since everybody does the same thing.  It takes no thought to copy the cinematic ideal of romance but it takes time and real effort to get to know someone intimately enough to make a moment special specific to them alone.  If you listen closely enough you can find something that will make them remember that 30 second moment you created for as long as they are alive.  All I'm saying is that in many ways, we've traded meaning for flair and like all flair...it shoots up, pops into pretty colors and is quickly forgotten.  I'd rather be the subject of memory than the suit I wore or the flowers I carried.

So I take a different tact.  I just show up with an empty bag.  A figurative bag with nothing in it.  If you focus and judge me by it, I know you ain't interested in me.  If you want to know me even though I carry it?  Then we can talk.  I am confident enough in who I am inside that they cannot help but take notice.  Understand that if you have something worth anything inside, what you will carry is an unavoidable presence.  Once that is noticed, a genuine curiosity produces "get to know me" sessions that can make for real moments.  You'll learn each other and eventually come to a place of comfort at which point you can Peacock all you like, except now, you're carrying her favorite flower and ordering her favorite meal.  So yeah, try something new...be yourself.  Let that be enough...I'm out

~Moses

I Am...

"...But touch my tears, with your lips. Touch my world, with your fingertips. And we can have forever. And we can love forever. Forever is our today...Who wants to live forever?..."

I did not begin this to showcase my wisdom nor start a brand to sell a product.  I could care less who read it and who didn't but if at least one person went moved or inspired out of the billions on this planet then that would be a bonus for me...and so it was.  The pursuit of fame is the mark of one seeking recognition beyond that of God and self.  It is a need to be loved by strangers when they find themselves to be "not enough".  I seek no fame or recognition and I'm no one's guru.  I am a man of honest passion with enough wisdom to see the inner workings of me and by extension...of you.  It's not rocket science for me...it's just that simple.

In all my inner travels, I have found that the truth of me is akin to the "wind".  A word, a deed, a momentary presence or touch.  A breeze to calm...to cool.  Maybe just to offer you a chance to see how the trees dance in the breeze.  The way the moon glistens on the horizon on a clear night.  To really feel what's it's like to have someone lose themselves in the real "you".  The simple glories most never take the time to experience.  To show you something that can bring a tear to your eye just once. Just enough to remind you that significance is measured by way more than money, power or fame. That it is measured by character, passion, selflessness, love and a truth that is brutally unforgiving. For me, it has become an invisible, thankless task that has within its purpose an immeasurable value. I would never trade it for anything.

The wind?  It comes and goes as sure as the unpredictable friend.  It comes when it knows it should and stays away for more reasons than even those who clamor for it's return know, leaving some wanting.  Leaving others confused.  This is because the wind is free and most cannot comprehend such a thing because of the way it makes them feel.  It is something they naturally feel should be theirs to own.  They knew the feelings were real.  The experience was pure and as such...uniquely specific to them.  To it's own pain at times, the wind remains and shall ever be...free.  He would see those he touched prosper within a stability he could never offer resulting in a profound sadness and an intense joy.  All the while, watching the inevitability of the first touch and the subsequent "until next time".  This is true for us all.  You want to live forever?  Do for someone else...yeah...

It takes one one significant moment to live forever...I guess I'll be around for quite awhile.

~Moses Apollo

I'm Still Just Breathin...

"...I have been here many times before..."

In this short time span of me "runnin the ball" towards the touchdown I seek, I had a thought. One I'd like to crystalize for myself in this open diary of mine. 

I am acutely aware of my surrounding realties. I actually understand them better than most think I do. As I gauge reactions, I often laugh because 90% of the time...it's always the same. Men see me walkin and if they're by themselves, they'll either not engage in eye contact or they'll puff up their chests and imaginary lats like my trip to get a loaf of bread was really meant to be a "who's bigger" contest. If they're with their women, they'll either hold their hand tighter or draw them closer for a kiss. I actually heard a man on the train tell his woman in whispered scorn "don't look at him" while he squeezed her arm really tight. In those situations, I just move or turn away to assuage their insecurities. As for women...yeah now that's a write-up. Insecure women think I'm too much for them to talk to and they will either shyly stare, take pics on the sly or giggle with their girlfriends. Young chicks do "the follow" or get real bold with a "can I touch you?". Folks, I wish I was exaggerating. On the other side of this weirdness, women that seem sure of themselves due to their level of attractiveness immediately assume I'm a player that needs to be shunned or given the brushoff in the form of rudeness so that I may be "put in my place". As though this was their job at anything I may inquire about or try to help with as I would anyone else. If I ask what train stop we're on because I honestly can't see it, an eye roll puts me in my place every time by getting me to miss my stop...or something. As descriptive and flippant as I'm being, believe it or not, these things no longer bother me as they used to. These days it's about as annoying as a fly that won't stop buzzing in my ear. I just swat it away and live out my life as easy as breathin. Since breathing is a function one engages in without thought within our anatomical design...it's effortless.

You see, I can tell you that I "get it" and that "I understand it" but I don't embrace the man capable of causing such reactions like I used to because frankly...I got over myself a long f*ckin time ago. I just got used to those things "being there" and I learned how to ignore them...being myself without worrying about what people think. I feel like a spectacle sometimes but I'll be damned if I decide to lessen myself to avoid it because at the end of the day...that ain't on me. It's just humanity as it is. Something I've come to accept so I ain't changing a thing. Oh and just to be sure, this is on the everyday so in case anyone was wondering, I actually wear clothes on the train and when I walk around outside as well. It usually helps with the cold in the winter and mosquitoes in all the other seasons but this is not so much about me...

No folks, this is about overcoming stereotypical prejudice. A prejudice that doesn't deal in race or class and because of this...it easily stays hidden. Oh, but don't get me wrong here. I'm not writing to talk about how evil it is. I am here to immortalize my understanding of it as a human trait that you can't do anything about nor would I ask you to. To ask folks to stop being prejudice is to ask them to lower their defenses in a world that's filled with agenda driven assh*les. I wrote the above only to illustrate how it works in my case but if you're asking "what pray tell do we do about it?" I would say deal with it as a fact of humanity only time and understanding can change to either confirm or deny said prejudice. For myself, I've learned to embrace "it" as opposed to the subjective "man character" I'm pre-judged to be. I absolutely love it when external eyes prejudge me one way and get confused when they read my heart. Stereotypical prejudice dictates that a man that looks like me should not have such deep thought, emotion or intellectual discourse. Yeah, I get that I mess that up for most. I absolutely adore it when brave souls decide to meet me after they've read my works to prove I am "full of sh*t" only to come away scared after finding out..."nope, same man". I say scared only because people can deal with "full of sh*t". That's everywhere...but real? No...not this!! Not this "beautifully sensitive man"!! Right? Yes..the "fantasy" from which I gladly deem myself "fantastic" or as I love to say..."mantastic". Oh that's nice and all but that's only half my story. Folks, I'm just a man of intense passion that has lived long enough to know that pretending to be something I'm not is not only wrong...it's boring. A man that loves the grit and the glitter whose dualistic nature gleefully confuses the hell out of most. A man that loves the treasure found in loss and the power discovered in "the process" which can be unassumingly problematic for some he's close to. A man that knows more than he should at his age. So much so to even comically annoy himself. You see I can beautifully articulate it all but living this way or with "this" is not always easy. I'm way more than just the two dimensional stereotypical image the human mind naturally creates and you don't take home an image to talk to it. You don't take it out to eat or lay with it in bed unless that's your thing in which case you're just a freak. No folks...you take it home and hang it on a wall...expecting it to be that way forever. Expecting to admire it forever. Complex humans revolve and evolve. Their character remains and when they're "real"...they go through it and it ain't always pretty. Stereotypical prejudice only gives way to understanding and you can only truly "judge" what you truly come to understand.

It's a beautiful thing when you learn how and when to shut it off. Oh, I love imagining a woman to be a certain way knowing its just my prejudicial mind that has her hanging on the wall of my soul to perpetually admire. Maybe I don't want to meet her. Maybe I don't want to know that her feet smell like cornchips or that her farts smell like a hobo's after he's had some chili given to him by a good samaritan. Or maybe I do. Maybe I want the excitement of my prejudice being proven wrong. Maybe I want to know she's human. All these questions pass through me in seconds like a cool breeze one usually doesn't mentally entertain. Me? I'm annoying like that! So yeah...I do.

In all this I've learned to overcome it by acknowledging it. To understand that it's normal. People will be people and I will be me. They can either take the time to know me, I can take the time to reveal myself or we could just not give sh*t and keep it movin as it is. I usually opt for the third unless there's worth found enough to opt for the others. So in and out...I breathe my life as I live it while all around me remains at it will. So when I write poetry...I'm just breathin. When I send encouragement...I'm just breathin. When I give advice...I'm just breathin and yes, when I write as I just did. Without thought to what anyone might think...I'm still just breathin. Much love...I'm out...

~Moses Apollo

Intermission...

"I am a captive to Your ways...and when You whisper, I am changed.

I feel it flowing through my veins..."

If there is one thing I could inform anyone about passion...it would be this: "No matter how hungry the soul yearns or how hot the body burns...chew your food..." ;-)

~Apollo

Goodnight Sweetheart Goodnight...

As a Merchant Marine, you are required to leave your family behind to support them and sometimes...your country. You leave to get and give your best. I take the same tact in relationships I form. Relationships with friends, family, lovers and if I have one...an audience.

Write when you have something say...not because you feel people want to hear your voice. In all that we do, we should do it for the best reasons. It's the only way to give your uttermost. It reveals that you consider what you do special as you also consider those you do it for just as special. It's always a double edged sword as the receiver will never truly understand. They think you leave because you've grown tired or are moving on when only the opposite is true. You've drawn close enough to know they deserve better than you can offer at the moment...so you go to get it. They'll get it someday. Like you all are getting it now ;-) A day, a week...a month? It don't matter. As always...there's a truth in this....I'm out.

Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go,

Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go,

I hate to leave you, but I really must say,

Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight.

Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go,

Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go,

I hate to leave you, but I really must say,

Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight.

Well, it's three o'clock in the morning,

And baby, I just can't do right,

Well, I hate to leave you, baby,

I don't mean maybe, because I love you so.

Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do

Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go,

(Do-do-do-do-do)

Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go,

(Ba-do ba-do)

I hate to leave you, but I really must say,

Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight.

Well your mother and your father,

They won't like it if we stay up too late

Well, I hate to leave you, baby,

I don't mean maybe, you know I hate to go.

Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do

Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go,

(Do-do-do-do-do)

Goodnight, sweetheart, well it's time to go,

(Ba-do ba-do)

I hate to leave you, but I really must say,

Goodnight, sweetheart, goodnight.

Songwriters: Calvin Carter / James Hudson

My Tonight: The Poetry Of Silence...

"last night the moon came..."

It's a summer night but still...cooler than usual.  As such there is no need for the hum comin from the air conditioner.  Windows open wide to hear the sparse footsteps of folk just tryin to get home and the occasional car passin by.  The blinds hit the edge of the window as a short gust of wind does its best to get to me.  A symphony of misplaced notes are heard if you listen and in between those tender notes...second sight takes hold to feel every thought drowned out by the noise we use to distract us from impact.  Now...you feel it all.  Listen deeper.  As even the light of the moon creepin through the blinds makes a sound.  Yes...silence is rich in wisdom, love and grace.  

It's where the poet finds his greatest inspiration.  Faces become clear and voices are heard subtle enough to pick up the purest intent.  What did they really mean when they said "I will"?  It's clear now isn't it?  Yeah...memories transport you to last night's touch and last years smile.  Emotional content fills in the gaps left by the beauty of silence and it is...wonderful.  Even the sour finds the sweet in silence as all begins to make sense.  You feel everything as though it were the day before and even sometimes...as though it were happening at the very moment of recollection.  I am nowhere and I am everywhere.  Some seek this out in the drug and others...in the drink.  Yet all these tender notes are ready to be heard when the minutes don't matter and your intent is pure.  They're waitin to be listened to.  Waitin to inspire the birth of something worthy of all that's called vision and creativity.  Worthy to receive a title in your lexicon of faith, hope and love...

Silence is soul music...poetry in its purest form.  Electric and eclectic.  That's my "tonight".  I know I'll have many more because I can...I dig that... 

~Moses Apollo

The Digital Cathedral...

A centuries old cathedral encased in glass stood for but a few to visit. One solemn day, it became a sanctuary for two alone...

They wandered in as strangers and shared in it's imagination.  They tendered song and roses to it's beauty until their hearts were offered as well.  Daily they came to admire it until they found themselves ignoring it all together.  They met there daily still and instead of gazing at it's beauty, they now found each other's eyes even more worthy of gaze.  He came to adore the smile she couldn't help.  She became enamored by the foolish quirk he could not hold in.  All this becoming more important than this place.  They would soon feel the need to touch but the sanctity of this place was still too grand and now what had brought them together had become what was keeping them apart. They knew they didn't need the cathedral but as it became a staple in their new found love, they were afraid of leaving it behind lest their love would be left behind as well.  Until one day...they found themselves having no choice but to do just that.  The man became so ill that he could not meet his timely commitment anymore.  Sadness and confusion overtook them...

They feared the loss of the love found in that place but as minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days...something else altogether happened.  This love they found did not wane but instead began to suffer the pain of loss.  The truest testament to something's value.  They found they missed the stillness of their company and came to find something more to miss...the touch they had so longed for but already had.  For even though they did not touch in flesh...they touched in spirit.  Something very few could ever truly comprehend.  The intimacy of souls was theirs now to keep in perpetuity.  What of the cathedral?  It's beauty stands but it had lost its power over the fate that was now theirs.  They found the treasured confirmation they had been looking for in the discomfort of change.  That all they ever needed to do was trust the love that they had found...was real.  That yes, it did in fact transcend space, time, holiness and sin.  Unlike the multitudes that met in that place and thought the same. They were the exception as they came seeking nothing for themselves and found each other instead...

Today they meet where they please.  Sanctifying the very spaces they enter by the beauty of her smile and the quirk of the fool...

To understand: All that has value must be tested outside it's place of comfort.  If it endures to flourish...so will it's value...  

~Moses Apollo

Solomon - A Poem by Moe

"...over the mountains, over the sea. Here you come running, my lover...to me..."

this minded flowchart, rooted tree

whose diamond shapes belong to me

they flow from studies into life

that spring from scars adept at strife

they tell the tale of loss and love

and trenches dug in skies above

they speak of hope beyond the pain

who's holding proves all promised gain

and now I stand in all unseen

at highest plains I've ever been

but singular this place unknown

and all its wisdom mine to groan

~moses apollo