I Was Told...

"OMG, you are so f*ck'in fine!!! Damn!!"

As crass as that was, it was her way of saying I was attractive...and I could care less lol  I walked 5th ave in Brooklyn tonight.  The blocks going from gritty to livable in about 4 miles.  In my hand a bottle of red my boy had left to spare over at his place and good looking female passersby giving me attention.  I'm sure I'm not the most attractive man on the planet but at the risk of sounding conceited...I still look damn good and I intend on aging extremely well lol

To be real though, what did the attention do for me?  I know some people need external recognition to find validation but if your looks define who you are then as you age you will think yourself a piece of sh*t.  What good will you be without attention?  What else do you have besides a big ass or lots of muscle?  Have you ever bothered to put as much effort towards yourself internally as you do for everything external?  As I was eating with my boy an attractive woman obviously lingered and kept looking my way.  As if to let me know she was open for an invitation.  I sized it up in 5 minutes and just kept eating.  I had no interest.  I played it out in my head and it's flavor was bland.  Yeah, you want what you see but then what?  Will you care to stick around?  Do I even want you to?  Or did I just want another story to tell my friends about?  I just don't know anymore.  I'm not one to string anyone along pretending to be solid while I wriggle internally like spaghetti and the truth is right now...I feel like spaghetti lol  I just think about what they want and what they see.  I think about the aftermath.  Who will still do the "cat call" when I've grown too old for choices?  Who loves what I am as opposed to what I just look like?  That is a lifetime away for me but I think about these realities to keep me grounded and selective.  What do I want?  I have no idea anymore which in turn leaves me wanting absolutely nothing...spaghetti out lol

Oh Well...Part Deux

I was right and wrong about what came down the pike at me.  I was right about something coming but I was wrong on it's impact.  What should've been surprising...surprisingly wasn't.  I've been over this sh*t for awhile now and although what was presented to me disappointed me...I was not surprised in the slightest.  I already knew all that was sent to me would happen.  It has been months since I even looked in a certain direction yet some people insist on tinkering with emotions they don't understand.  They just don't know when to quit and as for retaliation?  That would just continue the cycle so..."C'est la vie." 

Folks I write this exclusively for myself and whichever a**hole thought it cute to send me all that drama.  No one should have power over you unless you decide to give it to them.  All that I saw was "sad" but when the dust of it all settled, I really began to ponder on it and came to a conclusion.  How could something hurt me that I expected to happen?  The steps backward, the usual suspects (both old and new), the f*ck it attitude and a burgeoning future filled with late night bar bathroom stalls and short term memory loss.  All egged on by people that should care enough to say "slow down" but don't because they think the fiasco "funny" and thus "fun".  Everything that hindered the "subject" in the email...attitudes, ideas and actions.  All brought back as something "new".  Funny but according to what I was shown, this "new life" looked just like the old one.  It's like taking a sh*t and finding a way to shove it all back inside yourself.  That's what I found "sad".

Some may feel the need to do that to "forget" the past.  Something that is an impossibility.  I know that in my past I have been hurt but I also know what that hurt burned out of me.  Every pain in life, every struggle is meant to show you something about yourself.  What needs to die and what needs to live and thrive.  What is dead and burned must stay that way.  Discarding the bad while retaining the good that one may keep growing from there.  Looking backwards past the point of pain is a fools scope that removes anything you could have learned from that painful experience.  I cannot deny the truth that great writings came from my pain.  The pain of loss and "not enough".  The pain of missing someone and distance.  All that I wrote was real and reading it again brings me to near tears because it was beautiful...it was pure.  To forget all that happened would mean those pieces were never written and the passion behind them was never real.  Well guess what?  It was real and I will not deny that part of my life no matter how much pain and anger acknowledging it brings me.  I shut myself in to be able to come to a place of peace without anesthesia or distraction.  To stare at my sorrow until it sickened me so that I may understand it without emotion.  Doing so, I came to a place of gratitude for the good times and a place of disgust for the bad.  Yet I am wiser as to where my heart lay from now on.  My only problem is that my new attitude has me lacking the desire to lay it anywhere else...

So having said all this; if in fact all the accounts that were ridiculously shared with me are accurate...who gives a sh*t anymore?  I gave a sh*t when I mistakenly thought it would make a difference...why bother now when I know for certain it doesn't?  So to the person that sent me that info, thanks but no thanks.  Try to find another way to f*ck with me...that sh*t is played out already lol 

Oh well...

There it went...Irene.  I expected to awaken and find dripping water off my ceiling.  Last time it rained this much something that looked like a D-cup sized breast formed over my kitchen before having to fix it myself.  This time though...no breast lol 

Slept well amidst the storm.  Had a weird dream though, almost like something bad is coming.  Honestly, I can't take anymore sh*t comin my way.  I just awoke with a type of tension I can't explain.  I just pray everyone I know is ok...

Oh Irene...what have you done?

The beginning of a heavy storm has me wanting to try something a little different...gratitude.  I think at 37 years old I have a lot to be thankful for.  Beyond just my health and standing.  Beyond just life and love.  Even though I may complain to have so little I can't help but see that I truly have been blessed more often than not.  I have lived a life that most at my age are just trying to navigate through and even though it may have been hard, I feel good to have made it through with honors.  I have two boys I am so proud of...the most beautiful of things in my life.  God's greatest gift to me of which nothing can compare.  I have friends and people that love me without interest or motive...only because they chose to know me, accepting the truth of me without guile.  I have a father that has become my friend and ally throughout this crazy journey of mine while he trudges on his own.  A triune set of mothers whose prayers for me reach the Father's ears as a constant even though I could always be a better son to them.  Yet something else struck me as the heavy rain took me down a memory lane through this digital panorama of photos...

In my life I have had the privilege of loving two women with a passion unrivaled.  Both ending differently...one sweet, one sour but both with a pure desire and a skin-tearing passion.  How many can say that?  How many can really truly feel that?  The heat of anger and lust.  The pure desire and passion for another that has you wanting to just be around them?  To be in such a thing can be heart wrenching but looking from the outside in...it is true passion.  I hear of "dates", "hook-ups" and "busting a nut" but rarely do I ever hear the pure words of passion uttered from the lips of men...or even women for that matter.  That speech is saved for poetry and song when it should be spoken in whisper from the truest of hearts.  It truly is harder as a single man to bear such a standard for intimacy.  With a wife, at least you have only one outlet for that desire.  Something more beautiful than the most expensive ring...exclusive only to her.  Yet where does it go as a single man?  My writing gets most of it now...

Thank you Irene...you have served me well. 

I Listen...

...to stringed instruments at night while sipping my blended tea mix that soothes the mind and relaxes the body.  Yet I can't help but worry about my tomorrow.  My aim is steady and my heart is set but my strength can wane...I refuse to allow that to happen.  It's 1:53 AM and I think of so many things at this hour...so many things run across my mind.  Things my heart longs for and things I know I can no longer have.  I long for a future where certainty is a given and ease is commonplace.  The easy breath of life where I know everyone I love is fine...including me.  I cannot forget the past as I wear it's scars like war wounds but it no longer has the grip on me it once had.  I am accepting and resigned to certain truths.

I know now that I have no second half.  I have no endgame.  I am one that is right now.  My moment is me at my best.  Stick around and you will see me at my worst.  Something only a few can handle before they realize I'm really just a man.  A man with flaws like anyone else.  I never pretended to be otherwise.  What sets me apart is that I'm honest.  Something that forces me to be better than I was yesterday.  I can't lie to God so I can't lie to myself.  Some people can carry a false existence for a long time but I can't stomach a second of it.  If I see something in me that needs fixing, I cannot rest easy until it's done.  I know what I need to change but you will never know it because it usually will only affect my outlook.  Something that never affects you in the immediate but could in the long run.  I will not "live with" this or that nor will I find a crutch...whatever my "issue"...it needs to die.  That's all I am people...honest. 

Speaking honestly, the truth about me is that I used to believe certain things I no longer believe today...for myself at least.  I used to believe in forever when it came to temporal things yet I have found that forever when left up to man...is finite.  All man knows about forever is that it has a beginning and as such...it must have an end.  I will live my life the best I can with whatever time my Lord graces me with before He decides to take me home.  I will enjoy my children, my friends, my planet and what little true love I can find along the way.  I will leave forever to my soul and my Lord but as for me...I will live right...right now...

Good night

Earthquake NYC...

What a day for drama in my town.  I went jogging and as I ran, I began to notice the masses spilling out of buildings.  I take off my headphones to ask what happened..."earthquake".  Okay?  Are my running shoes that comfortable?  Or was it much ado about nothing?  I guess people are jumpy since 9/11 but aside from the hubbub and Sprint lines being down for a few hours all was well.

My son made it onto his High School Football team and I can already see it will challenge him to be more than he is right now...a welcome occurrence.  As for me, all I will say is that I had one hell of a night.  Twists and turns that will anger anyone into action.  Creating in me a pissed off resolute man that carries a ton of hard muscle and a heart made of steel that bleeds every once and a while.  I'm angry...I'm pissed.  I WILL be and do all I said I would.  Why? because I said so... 

I guess it's time to blow some sh*t up...I think I'll start with... 

A Funny Thing Happened Today...

I found myself explaining the realities of insecurity to a teenager that had just been left unexpectedly for being "too good to be true".  He was dumbstruck because he couldn't for the life of him figure out what he'd done wrong.  Why did she leave?  What did he do wrong?  Was he was too much for her to believe?  Too much character?  Too much affection?  All that she was looking for was right there and it just couldn't be real.  It's all just one big dream.  So she wakes herself up by saying goodbye and goes back to a world where boys just don't really care.  A world where all men want is one thing...a world that makes more sense to her.

I know that teenage love is fleeting but when the same happens in adulthood, it can be depressing if you don't have answers.  I had to explain to him that some girls just really don't know what they're worth and in the world of adulthood that lack of self-worth is reinforced by the experience of "the asshole".  I can't tell you how many amazing women I have come across that think themselves "less" because the "boys" they've allowed into their lives drove that fallacy home to the point of believability and acceptance.  They belittle their women into submission knowing these women could better them at any time.  The "boys" that do this are beneath their women and they know it.  They do their best to make them feel like they will never find anything better than them by belittling them at every turn.  A real man encourages his women to excel and move past them out of sheer love for their soul.  Real men that are rare these days...

A wise man once shared his experience of a similar loss with me.  He spoke...I just listened;

"...I really tried to show her I was different.  She asked for my help for change and all I saw was what she could become...something that eventually would be too good for me.  Something I was afraid of but something that my love for her would need to see through.  A process doomed to fail by it's disingenuous motive.  Something that should have been for her was really just another attempt to make me happy and that is not true change.  In the end, she didn't believe I was real and when I asked her to leave, it was almost as if she had a set plan for what she considered an eventuality.  She always expected to leave.  All measures were half-hearted on her part because she just couldn't accept that I could love her that much or that my love was that pure.  Hers in fact...was a self-fulfilling prophecy.  It broke my heart..."

The teenager, the adult...whats the difference?  The teenager has years of experience to gain ahead of him.  To either reinforce his strengths and self-worth or reinforce his weaknesses and self-doubt.  The adult has years of experience behind him.  Where he can either pick up on where he is strong reinforcing his self-worth or sulk on where he is weakest reinforcing his self-doubt.  Each one has it's own voice.  One says "you can" the other says "forget it".  Which voice will you listen to when the time comes?  Where do the voices come from?  Figure it out... 

Woman or man, if your partner is everything you've wanted, if he or she is seemingly giving you their best, please reciprocate with the same energy and fervor that you see...it might just be real.  If it turns out to be false, at least you will know for certain that it's failure was not your fault.  Be true, be real...be passionate.

As for you "amazing woman".  If I ever get a chance to meet you again, please believe me when I say "you are amazing"...I actually mean it... 

Tu Recuerdo

"Tu Recuerdo"

This is a song that asks an honest question; "Is it in my best interest to remember you?".  A question to whose answer ultimately is; "Maybe not...but I do anyway".  It's a sweet tune sang with a smile but if you understand the lyrics, I guarantee you will relate.



Tonight...

I found solice in a pit.  A place of such simplicity and commonality that most of the upper echelon would wipe the seats before sitting down.  An unassuming hooka bar in Brooklyn made me feel nostalgic about my time in Bahrain.  This place, although a pit by our standards, was way and above fancier than the smoke filled rooms run by Ethiopian women in Bahrain.  We just sat and talked "life" as the hooka pipe was passed around.  No one got into a fight.  No one made a pass at anyone.  No one was looking to "hook-up" and no one threw up.  That is what I call easy.  No pretense...no bullsh*t.  Just a good night.

There were quite a few spots like that I went to in Bahrain.  Dives where locals would just sit and relax.  Folks, it's nice to see the monuments and the attractions those places have to offer but the most interesting places and people are usually found in spots the locals inhabit.  Some people are too good to go beyond their hotels and tour guides but I can tell you that the best times I've had anywhere were in places most have never been.  As I type this, I am beginning to feel the pull to travel again as I settle things at home.  I even feel a pull towards the middle east...maybe even Iraq.  Wherever that may be, the next time I do travel, I trust that I will heed my own advice.

On a side note, I have finally written the foreword to my book.  Even if I did nothing else for a few more weeks...the reading of it has me excited.

Casi Casi...

Me encanta este grupo

August 14th 3:17 PM in NYC...

It's dark and it's raining.  Dreams and thoughts just running through my mind.  Some to dismiss, some to take seriously and some make me want to lash out in anger foolishly.  Something I clearly understand doesn't make any sense.  Lashing out in anger always hurts you more than it does the object of your anger.  So why bother?  You feel better in the moment but regret words and actions for days or even years to come.  So was it really worth it?  Nah

You know folks I've secluded myself for months now.  I've separated myself from everything and everyone so that I could heal right from hurt.  You have all seen that.  I'm comin up on another clearing.  I know what I need to do to be content and maybe even happy.  What's truer than that is that it has nothing to do with anyone but myself.  Some people need to learn how to really be in a relationship, others need to learn how to be single and retain respect.  I know all about respect but I have found that being single requires too much bullsh*t for a man like me to stomach.  I'm not a hoe and I'm extremely selective.  Having options means very little to me.  What good are options if that's all they are?  I have truly been dismayed by the idea of "the one" and do not have the stomach nor the time for "the many".  If it's something in between I really don't care to find out right now.  I just can't seem to find that "reset" button.  Who knows but maybe I wore it out.  I don't know but like someone once said..."I'm done".

Yet in truth, beyond relationship and everyday life issues, I need to concentrate on Moe.  Not to be become selfish like some presumably do to be "happy" under the term "f*ck it", but just the opposite.  To do more for others is to do more for me.  To abandon the fear of non-reciprocation and just "do as I do".  To be right and just and noble.  Traits that were the pinnacle of my existence for quite some time.  Some of which have been erroneously tossed aside out of necessity...even out of anger.  In a nutshell, I will never cease from wanting...not more for me, but to be a better man and a better father.

This rainy day has me telling the truth.  This rainy day has me missing.  This rainy day has me finding.  This rainy day has me deciding... 

His Only High - A Poem by Moe

What was for good intention
To keep the sane convention
Has now turned white to black

Though silenced went the pain
And needless went the cane
The rope has lost it's slack

For now has death warmed over
It's killed the four leaf clover
That kept him from defeat

Sedated silenced fear
Grows louder in his ear
The sound of crackling meat

He clearly hears the shake
The rattling of the snake
About to strike it's blow

Yet he's an overcomer
Fought winters spring and summer
To stand and steady grow

To find the strength to stand
He'll open fisted hand
And face it towards the sky

That rescue may come soon
Restoring sweet commune
God's love his only high

~Moses

I Blame The 80's!!!

You know this morning I woke up with a song in my head.  A song I haven't heard since I watched TV on the regular.  I remember commercials coming on for "Time Life's Remember The 80's" collection.  Peabo Bryson, Air Supply, Journey, Peter Cetera etc etc.  One tune they would always play a snippet of was Journey's "The Search Is Over".  Back in my days as a more "fanatic" believer, I would attribute that song to God but giving it a better listen...I don't think it fits lol  This is the song I woke to.  7AM and "The Search Is Over".  Truth is after my last run, I've stopped looking altogether.  I guess I feel it's got to hit me hard in order for me to ever even consider letting go like that again.  Not something to feel bad about...just a reality.

Out of curiosity, I get on youtube and start playing this song.  I find myself just running through the classics and re-imagining myself the love starved teen that used to call in to the radio station to have them play a song or two I had missed.  I needed to complete my mix tape.  I remember badgering the DJ of Z100.  I needed him to play Reo Speedwagon's "In My Dreams".  I HAD to have that on tape but I kept missing it.  He got so tired of my constant calling, he broke it into his roster right after my ninth call.  I missed the beginning but at least I was able to get it.  I really hope the girl I gave the tape to realizes the effort I put into it...maybe not lol

Yet something hit me as I'm watching these videos.  What world did these people live in?  Almost every video has a white sandy beach, wind in the hair, white shirts, linen pants and summer dresses.  Last I looked, NYC doesn't have any white sandy beaches and as for linen pants?  They're a b*tch to keep wrinkle free.  I guess the big hair dude never really had to sit anywhere for too long.  On top of that, they are singing in the middle of nowhere.  You know they have to have money to have a band follow them out to this sandy beach or at least a good karaoke machine.  You know then that these young cats must've had a great deal of money to burn to be able to accomplish such a perfect setting.  Well, this is what my generation grew up believing was the pinnacle of romance.  It's not bullsh*t.  One can create those moments with time and money...but what has greater value?

All that is great.  You can have those moments.  They do exist and they do occur...from time to time.  Problem is that for some, everything else is never enough.  The light meaningful touch in the morning is just a touch.  The everyday "I love you" is just a bunch of words.  Carrying her to bed at night is just routine and the elation of just having her next to me...is boring.  You see this is what you do when you don't have the sandy beach.  When you don't have the mind nor the time to do the things together you would like to because the real world saps you of any room to breathe.  You make the most of every second you can spare.  Your time together in a busy world is enough to sustain the devoted heart.  The look of "I'm glad you're here" is enough to keep you elated for a whole week.  The meaningful hug you gave me before I left that morning is enough to keep me smiling until I come back home for more.  Without these things, your white sandy beach, summer dress, big hair and linen pants mean absolutely nothing.  If you can't find romance in the smallest of details, then what good will it do you if you only look for it within your "perfect setting".  Don't ever let your love become conditional.  Don't ever let the lack of a "perfect setting" interrupt your desire if your partner is doing what they can to make the small moments count.  Appreciating and reciprocating those moments is one of the keys to making love last...trust me I know... 

For Your Listening Pleasure...

Yeah...it's the groove of my people mixed with yours...

A Bit Of Clarification...

For those that need it...

I mentioned in one of my posts that if I'm single and I get together with one of my female friends..."it's on".  That may seem a bit callous but let me tell you why it's a truth I see fit to mention.

I know of some p*ssy ass b*tch mother f*ckers that have used their "friendship" to lull their female "friends" into a false sense of security.  To bring them into moments and atmospheres that either dull their senses or keep them open to whatever they want.  All under the "safe" banner of "friend".  "Hey, we can share a room...nothing will happen"...bullsh*t.  I am a man and under those circumstances, my instincts will view the moment as an opportunity that I will not want to pass up.  I tell all my female friends what I will want to do under certain circumstances so that they will have a choice as to what THEY want to have happen.  I don't feel that I'd be a good "friend" if I did otherwise because that's a p*ssy move.  At that point they have the choice as to how to control the mood and surroundings of our time together.  I can tell you now...I don't need to trick anyone into bed.  I don't roll like that.  Never have, never will.  This is why women feel safe with me.  No means no and I take that sh*t seriously.  You don't ever have to meet me at night and I won't get upset if we never see the inside of each other's apartment.  I don't play games and I despise those that do...especially when it comes down to "friendship" issues.  If I'm your friend, I'm gonna respect those boundaries by telling you the truth about myself and allow you to decide.  If you say, "come inside" and I'm attracted to you physically?...I'll do just that. 

You see folks, I can warn you about this one and that one because I speak the truth about myself at core.  At core, all men are the same.  Take that and do whatever you want with it...I'm out

What Would Make A Real Man Cry...

I could say "not much" and be this bullsh*t machista that refuses anything deep so as not to contemplate on his own mortality...ie, the things that matter.  Fact is when you really look towards the depths of things, one can't help but to water up over some things that either bring you great joy or heavy sadness.  Things that matter because they either extend outwards or aid in the progress of turning you into a human being that is compelled to do so when the need arises.  

As I type this, my mother lay in a hospital bed.  She had to go in for emergency surgery.  She is not my mother from birth nor marriage but in spirit and is someone I highly value in this world.  I haven't seen her in years for fear of the disappointment I'd imagine she'd feel yet it turns out that when I went to go see her last week...I wasn't the only adopted that felt that way.  God uses her in ways that would boggle your mind.  In older days, she'd be seen as a "seer" but we just know her as a mother...that can prophesy.  She can take one look at you and see the state of your heart.  Something I can confess to have inherited but not to her level.  When I went to go see this great woman, she was laying in that hospital bed attached to a dialysis machine and sedated.  Swollen from the drugs and fluids they were pumping into her.  After some time, I realized something...if she goes on to be with the Father now, I will lose my chance to tell her how much I loved her...how much I missed our talks, our communion.  I will miss my chance to say sorry for being so far into myself.  I just kissed her on her forehead and held back tears.  You see love and family will make you do that.  If you are a real man or a real woman...you will see what matters most.  What matters most is not so much that she get better...it's that she knew we loved her.  I know she will be fine but for that moment, I saw a world without her...and it was empty. 

As the days go by, what is fading?  I passed by a building tonight as I went walking that bore a striking resemblance to a building I used to play around in as a kid.  I stood in solemnity just staring.  I thought how could I forget what that felt like?  Have my years taken me so far from such a beautiful memory?  My best friend Geronimo and the filthy alleyways we used to run around in on Dyckman street way back when.  What matters most to me is truly the essence of grace that permeates the soul from those memories alone.  Not to relive them as that would be foolish, but to savor the moment of each.  Time and self can rob you of them if you let it happen.  Some of us have memories we wish we could forget and yet others have memories they block so they could in turn, bypass the confusion or pain of them.  As for me, I'd like to remember it all but find myself too busy these days to worry about it.  I was saddened by the sight of that building because as I stared at it, I fought to look for buried feelings it should have produced easily.  I guess my time span in the dark has done something to my emotional eyes. 

Although my days have been dark as of late, I am thankful to see cracks here and there that let some light in.  During those brief sessions, I'm able to remember who I was and who I am.  I am able to remember and see what I'm really about in this world.  To come to terms on what is worth fighting for and on the other side, what has to be gotten rid of.  I guess I'm coming into the 2.0 of Moe.  I will "retain the good, putting aside the bad" to be able to live with both...wisdom says so.  My memories may run the gamut but they don't run me.  Learn from them...all of them.  Use them to teach you this is right and this is wrong...you will be fine...as will I.

So what makes a real man cry?  He cries when he sees something really important happen.  He cries at real loss...he cries at real bewilderment.  He even cries sometimes from real intense resolution.  Why "real"?  because he sees the joy or sadness within the core issue and understands it's impact towards the longer haul.  I can say that I am a real man and although I don't walk around blubbering at every little thing, I will be honest and give you the reasons for the many tears I've held back.  Let me just say that this year has been a doozy for that...

A Word Of Wisdom About...Wisdom

Proverbs 24:5

A wise man is strong; yes, a man of knowledge increases strength.

Oh to ask, "What makes one wise?"  Contemplating on what makes one wise is akin to playing tic-tac-toe...with yourself.  What a question.  We attribute wisdom to those that are either "deep" or real.  Doesn't matter where they come from, if they are either, nine times out of ten...they will be wise.  Some people can fake the depth and some can fake the "real".  You can tell them apart by their lack of wisdom and by the stench of bullsh*t that comes out of their mouth everytime they talk.  It's funny but people of wisdom share one commonality...they all despise bullsh*t.  They hate it in all it's forms, even when they are compelled to participate in the bullsh*t within their own lives just to keep the chaos surrounding them from turning into sh*t.  Folks, the truth about wisdom is simple.  Persons of wisdom are simply souls that have the ability to articulate what is known to be true within the very soul of man.  They have peeled back all pretense and need for "acceptance" to find the core answer to the question..."why".  Why do you really do what you do?  What did you really mean?  When you are ready to accept the truth of those answers within yourself...you will be among the wise because then you will learn that what is undeniably true in you, is just as true in the person standing next to you. 

Most are so concerned about what this one or that one will think that they convince themselves that their motives are not what their initial instinctive drive defined their motives to be.  They continue in the la-la land and then wonder "What just happened?".  They knew the outcome before it happened but didn't want to accept that their motives for doing what they did could be so nefarious.  There's that male "friend" again.  He wants to see you for a late night drink..."to catch up" lol  You know what he wants but you are so hell bent on the belief that you two can just be "friends" that you dismiss the warning signs and go ahead with that drink.  The wise will never go unless intentions are made determinatively clear from jump.  I have many female friends.  Most are absolutely gorgeous.  I let them know that if we get together and I'm single...it's on lol  No pretense...no bullsh*t.  With me, you know what you're getting.  Some women can handle it, some cannot.  I was told by one the realest women I've ever met...sexy as hell to boot...that my "game" is "no game".  You can't beat that and folks...that comes from "wisdom".

Simply put...wisdom is found in the universally internal eternal TRUTH.  It's timeless and true in every being that walks this planet.  It's more than just the beating heart...it's the cell within the fibers.  It's the truth that cannot be disputed by the phrase "everyone is different" because at our core, we are all the same.  The only thing that differentiates us are the layers of life experience that fine tune our perspective.  We either allow them to narrow our view or use them to understand others.  The wise will always decide on the latter.  Take some time and find a child that hasn't been burdened yet with pretense and expectation.  Ask them a life question...you'll be surprised at the answer.

The wise will always have one constant among them.  They believe only what they know is real and true in the core of man.  Everything else...is bullsh*t.  I'm out...

Whatever It Takes...

Today I gave audience to a man whose woman continues to display seasonal tendencies.  Summer one minute, winter the next and it seems that whatever the season...he always gets the short end of the stick.  He's done all he could do and has taken a lot of sh*t.  After speaking to him about imposing limits and timelines, it got me thinking about my own past and present.  A question came to mind...

When you reminisce about what could've been or should've been...can you be honest and say that you are truly satisfied with your effort?  That you truly did everything possible to make it work?  Can you look back through the eyes of brutal honesty and say "Yes, I did everything I could do to make it happen but it fell apart in spite of my efforts"?  This is a question many people are afraid to ask when a dream is missed or when a relationship has fallen apart.  Most usually either lie to themselves or dismiss the question altogether in an effort to supposedly "move on".  Those are the "what you don't know, can't hurt you" types.  Well as you can probably tell...that's not me.

As you know, I was faithfully married for 17 years and we were stable.  We grew into each other with a solid bond.  So much so that even our divorce was amicable.  Looking back, I could illustrate several characteristics that contributed to that stability yet two really stand out in my mind.  Yes, we loved each other.  Yes, we were sexually compatible but the two that really "did it" for us was first; the idea of never giving in to a "problem".  The idea that whatever the issue, we needed to be honest about the root cause and kill it.  Kill it quick and kill it early.  If it took personality changes to save the relationship, then so be it, we would do so.  This meant not just going through the motions of change for the sake of appeasement, but truly finding reasons why the change was needed and pursuing said change until it was genuine.  We were always accepting of who we were but that didn't mean that we had to accept bullsh*t behavior under the guise of "acceptance".  If that means I have to roll back on flirting because my woman feels disrespected, then I will do so.  I'm not gonna complain that "she wants to change me".  Sorry, but that goes under the category of  "bullsh*t behavior" and if your woman or man takes issue with it, then it's something that you should probably find reasons to take issue with as well.  Most things, if not everything...has a "fix".  The key is how willing are you to fix it?  How much is the house you built worth to you?  What is the price tag you put on your love and devotion towards the person your with?  What would cause you to even contemplate straying?  Money?  A big ass?  Or something as stupid as "a cute face"?  Sh*t, if any of these so-called "qualities" produces any temptation in you to stray, then you are not anywhere near the place of maturity you need to be to be able sustain a relationship.  Move on and move quick.

Which brings me to my second reason...willingness.  I had a partner in my ex-wife (now awesome friend) that knew what she had.  That understood the value of the love and life we built together.  I have seen her evolve for me and she has seen the changes I underwent to make myself a better man for her.  I had in her a willing and devoted partner.  That my friends, is extremely important.  You can do all you can do.  You can fight, scream, pray and do everything possible to save what you have.  Throw out all the old numbers and stick that "off limits" sign on your privates.  You can crawl up to the hard line that your partner needs to see from you but the one thing you cannot do...is make them do the same for you.  That is something they must do on their own and it MUST be genuine.  Why? because if it is genuine...it is lasting.  The nature of the term "relationship" implies longevity.  Something you want that endures and grows.  When you see that you are the only one growing "into" the relationship, an imbalance occurs that begins to engender feelings of inequity.  Where you feel like you value the relationship more than your partner does.  You slowly come to find that if it wasn't for you, your relationship would've fallen apart a long time ago.  That thought alone gives birth to resentment.  A resentment that in all reality...is justified.  At about this point, you either a: stick around hoping for a change or b: go through several attempts and warnings, decide you're worth more than that...and bounce.

Folks, I've been on both sides.  I have been in a relationship where my efforts were rewarded by reciprocating effort and I have been in a relationship where my efforts meant absolutely nothing.  On both those sides, I am completely satisfied that I did whatever it took to make our bonds and love as strong as they could be for as long as fate would have it.  I did what I needed to and God, along with others, are my witness.  Sometimes you win and sometimes you have to be able to accept a loss.  It hurts after all your effort to let go but for the sake of your very soul...sometimes it's a must.  Yet always keeping in mind, that so long as you did all you could do, so long as you were self-less for the sake of your now failed relationship; keep that head up and those shoulders back knowing it's their loss...not yours.

It's About...

Late night, glass of wine and a sexy sound...the poet speaks in a deep whisper;

It's not about how you look.  It's not about the clothes you wear.  It's not about whether you drive or take the train.  It's not about your degree or lack thereof.  It's not about your job or how much you get paid.  It's not even about your house, your apartment, the music you dig or the way you dance.  In the end, it's about one thing...passion.

You see people, passion takes you to heights unseen by anyone but you.  Passion gives nails to your fingertips that allow you to leave marks on your desire unlike anything else can.  Passion keeps your heart beating...wanting more and more...and even more.  Even when your sense has given out.  Passion targets it's craving towards the attainable object...more than just a dream, more than just a thought or a fairy tale.  Something wanted, needed...something more than a "must have"; something you are sure you "WILL have"...passion is your heart beating steadily, rhythmic and sure..

Through the eyes of passion I can see the bare shoulder I long to kiss.  I can see the lips needed to be pressed against with my own.  I can feel the longing of my hand for an open hand that must be held while other areas remain..."busy".  It is passion that causes me to crave the breath that comes from your soul as you gasp at pleasure...again and again.  Beautiful and deep...savored to remember, and kept forever...

Passion

What Time Has Left...

You have read me complain and regurgitate feelings wrought with bitterness and anger.  I have allowed you to experience the internal implodings of an honest poet...emotions that I needed to accept to truly get through this trial with sincerity and brutal honesty.  To get "through" as yet retaining who I am.  Now I stand at the marker where hate is exhausted and bitterness has had it's full course.  For the first time in a long time, I am beginning to see more than just what went wrong.  I am beginning to remember little things that made me smile...I smile still.  Things that at the time made me laugh...another phase in healing.  This is the time in my healing where I must be vigilant not to allow nostalgia to create false memories...or false hope.  Just as anger can exagerrate failure, nostalgia can create moments of bliss that never were as blissful as you see them now yet I accept them as sweet none the less.  It is at this point where we can actually find moments that make our journey worthwhile.  Where regret is no longer an option.  I hope to find such as my softened heart allows me to begin to actually forgive...as my Lord would see fit.

You see people usually stop at anger and hold onto that for as long as they can.  I feared moving beyond that phase but it seems some people God brings into your life along the way have a manner about them that have the ability to soften the heart.  If you can believe it, a friend's picture actually helped me along in a way I did not expect.  I don't know why or how but that one picture had the power to help me re-appreciate the beauty of "the moment".  I imagine it was the truth of the capture itself...pure beauty.  To be able to record such a beautiful second in time is a powerful thing.  It allows the viewer to appreciate one single second for years on end...something truly..."amazing".  Those that can see it and make it happen are artists within their own right and I commend my photographer friends for such God-granted vision.  It really takes forethought to see a moment and capture it forever.  Luis, Yesenia, Frank, Millie and even Jen...great talents...great vision.

Yet here I am now...bad memories, some good memories...and a beautiful picture.  You know what?...I'm ok :-)