"...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...
"...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
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
"...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.
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...
"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..." ;-)
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.
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...
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...
