Funny How That Happens...

"I'm on the front line. Don't worry I'll be fine. The story is just beginning. I say goodbye to my weakness, so long to the regret and now I see the world through diamond eyes..." 

A very long time ago I had a woman I was somewhat interested in read just a few of my blog posts before getting to know me any further. As an intuitive myself, I could tell she was the same and I was curious as to what she would "see". Her response?

"You are a poet and a lover...but not by choice" 

Yeah...she shot me with that. As interested as she was, she decided to walk away and remain cordial. That is until...we just stopped communicating altogether. Years later, I can attest to a thing that has always frustrated the hell out of me...she may have been right. Folks, I know my strengths and can name them without feeling braggadocious in the slightest. If you think me "too full of myself" then you really don't know a thing about me and maybe even less about yourself. I'd classify you as one that engages in false humility to somehow virtue signal your own humility which is in fact a spectacle of masked pride. It's easy to talk about your vices because "oh how humble he or she must be!!" but talking about your strengths is off limits because that shows "pride"? If that's you stop reading...this place ain't for you. Moving on...

So in what way was this beautiful intuitive right? Well the truth is, I didn't grow up to be a poet...but I am because I seek the purest expression available to man. As for the lover in me? He is simply an extension of the poet that sharpened skill through study to please the one he loved. Truth is...I grew up to be a "warrior". I grew up learning how to survive and thrive among the dregs of every "class". From the politically crooked to the serial murderer. I "read" where the dangers are to navigate them like I know them from memory. I've trained my body for years the same way I've trained my spirit...like I've been getting ready for a battle that can break out at any moment. Feeling like I'm always "ready" without the tension associated to that kind of mindset. Never really understanding why. Just knowing that myself and those with me would always be alright. That God had a purpose in this "training" of sorts. You know, it's a hard thing to explain but if I'm honest...it's how I feel most of the time. 

My escape? Easy...sexy...cool. Where I can whisk away a lover for a spell of intimacy. Rockin the heart with a word that seeps out like a whisper dipped in "magic". The kind of magic you can't get from anyone else but me. It's all mine...tailored to the soul it's been given to. Tailored to reach deep into their heart because I took the time needed to map out every beautiful intersection and corner. To be able to go deeper into any and every secret place that no piece of flesh could possibly reach. That is the part of me that grew from seeking the heart of God and the truth is...God Himself has blessed me in this. 

Yet after this moment, however long it need last...I get back in line as needed. Therein lies the issue with those that get close. Oh come, love the poet! Adore the lover...but the warrior? He's about as boring as watching paint dry. I can see most picturing an open shirt, long hair in the wind, a sword and a horse...nope. This warrior sits at watch. He's meticulous, precise and will wait as long as he must to prevail against his enemy. Employing all manner of warfare that is applicable.. Physical, mental, emotional and most of all...spiritual. Exhausted...tired...but never beaten. Where then does that leave those that professed their undying love for him? Heh...where do you think? They show up in pretty nighties and wonder why he seems aloof. They get frustrated, walk away, try a few others and come back to find him in the same spot. Why? It's pretty simple...he's in a foxhole they can't see and he'll be damned before he becomes the selfish prick that asks them to "wait" because the fact is...this is his life. Besides, he doesn't have the right to ask such a thing. With someone like him...they come to learn that they must take what they can get or nothing at all. Sucks...but it's true...

Those that know me understand that I have souls in my life that I am bound to fight for and that will never change. So long as that is the case...I can't change either. The latest battle is the hardest I've faced to date and I intend to see it through no matter how long it takes. I see it as an honor to fight for those I love and those that don't? Sorry you feel that way but you best move on. Yet understand this: This is not a complaint about some supposed plight but a simple footnote of clarification to a recent realization. So yeah...it's a good thing. Anytime you get to understand yourself better, you come to understand those around you better as well. 

So I will admit to feeling lonely and abandoned in my foxhole. Wondering where all those that professed so much went after they saw the beginnings of one of my battles. When they saw the daily talks slow. When the poetry became dark. When the pining turned into an unattended frustration. When pics went unreciprocated. I actually felt like they bailed to "pastures less green" because "the muscular poet" wasn't always there flexing his "stuff" at their beck and call. Funny how that happens huh? Yeah...funny. That is until I decided to walk out of the pity party I threw for myself. All of that might've been true of them but knowing how special they are...I would've advised them to do just as they did. You know how you can usually tell if a person is in pain? How they usually grimace or say "ouch"? Well...I do neither. To them, I must've seemed like I just didn't care anymore because battles one wants to win require the need to drown out all other things. Even that which you want the most takes a back seat when you decide to take on a battle that could determine a life or death outcome. I do not blame them but instead, I thank God I had the time with them I was able to have. Most people don't even get that so yeah...I will always consider myself more than blessed. 

Folks...it's easy to love a poet and it's even easier to succumb to a lover. It takes years to learn how to love a warrior. I just ain't got that kind of time...

*Boom lay, boom lay...boom*

~Moses Apollo Apolinaris    

By Day - A Poem by Moe

"...my monsters are real..."

all subtle tender placed on hold

until the work is done

a stricken home has made one cold

till closure has been won

with sword in hand it sets its sights

towards enemies that bleed

in tempered rage prepares its fights

in spaces they concede

for know they not the mind or skill

of that which hunts by day

for sharpened breath sets forth its will

till end has met their way

~apollo

Epiphany Of The Pale Grey...

The crow has struck the night between the billowed clouds that separate the light shining from the fullest moon.  Entreating the king with every manner of vessel adorned of beauty, silk and shine. From old to new they "coo" at his status, taunting him at every plane.  Light eyes and smooth thighs whisper death in the shadows disguised as life and living.  Knowing the measure of all giftings gifted and all shiftings shifted groaned empty in his soul for epiphanies reason to purpose in him what is now deemed "more"...

For beautiful is the truest moon that all the world does admire.  That all should marvel at it's acumen for love and lust in the simplest of terms yet it does not boast in such a thing.  It does not relish in the accolades given nor does it rest it's purpose or identity in the power it has over countless hearts that beat in the night.  Instead, it relishes in it's purpose.  That it should be a light in the dark as all other effects are not in it's power but instead rest in the hearts of those it inadvertently entreats.  If it's glory does not boast or find it's pride in such things then why should the king or any other do any less?

And so it went that the crow has struck the night between the billowed clouds that separate the light shining from the fullest moon.  The king has ordered death to the crow.  Many came...few remain. For they came bearing gifts of light eyes, smooth thighs and subtle lies.  Vanity is to receive them all as if it was his power to abuse but as it is so of the beauty of purposed creation so it shall be with him. Entreat him with honor, grace and words that lace around his heart.  For to noose either neck for the sake of control is akin to using bit and bridle used on animals needing taming and not for kings that rest in such awareness.  Entreat him with beauty's hold adorned by the unseen face that shines beneath the bone and the heart that bleeds for moments of purity that seek the eternal experience deemed a fool's love aimed at reckless abandon.  The king and the fool speak tonight.  Watching and waiting...for more...

The king looks out over his balcony into the clear night sky as Clair De Lune plays ever so softly in the backdrop of his room.  Gazing into the glory of the fullest moon he sighs as he can still find the silhouette of her pretty face.  He finds comfort in this...

~Moses Apollo

Father...

"...what direction?..."

What an honor it is to be called "Father".  I've heard that title attributed to so many different roles but being one myself I can tell you that it should be exclusive.  Exclusive to men that are willing to sacrifice all they are for the sake of their children..."for greater love has no man than this". 

I am proud to say that my father is such a man.  A man with honor and integrity that comes at you in blunt truth no one could deny.  Not flashy...but real.  Even in weakness and error you could still see it...a prime example of what a husband and father should be.  Yes, those that know him, including myself, can attest to the fact that he made mistakes but the seed from which those errors came had nothing to do with malice.  Instead, they all came from his "humanity".  Something else he taught me all about from both his failure and most importantly...his restoration.  Folks, my father never gave up on me and when it was my turn to do the same for him...his example guided my way.  He never once threw up his hands as if to say "he'll never amount to anything" when it came to me in all my errors and that, among many other attributes, stays with me to this day.  He always knew what I was capable of and encouraged me every step of the way without fail even when I offered him reason to doubt.  Yet in all this grace I could speak on, the one thing that moved me the most was something that my mother had shared with me.  I was very young and living with my mother at the time as my parents were divorced.  My father had a drinking habit back then but it was never as severe as others I've known.  She told me that several times in a state of drunkenness, he would climb the fire escape and look through the window just to make sure I was ok...just so he could see me.  That mi gente...told me a lot.  That told me that I was on his mind and more so...on his heart.  Nobody saw it but her so no, this was no show.  It was a man finding his peace in a glimpse of the most beautiful thing he ever created...me.

You see and that's just it.  My father raised me with one thing in mind and I am carrying on the same in my children as best as I can today.  Instilling the truth about faith, honor, integrity and love.  I want my boys to have as their forefront a pure heart where honor and integrity are concerned.  Actions and good deeds mean nothing if the seed from which they come is malicious and/or selfish.  Good grades, a good job...doesn't mean a thing if you treat people like garbage.  I hear parents say that "so long as you do good in school, you'll get to have...x y or z".  That might be an incentive but parents sometimes forget to prioritize the heart of their children towards character.  I truly thank God for my father's wisdom in this.  He stressed education yes, but stressed even more the side of simply "being a good man".  So everyday, my prayer for my children is that they put character first above and beyond all else.  So far, I'm very proud to say that I see this in them already.  Even when they mess up or fall short of their potential...I see the struggle of conscience weighing heavy on their heart.  Almost always coming to a resolution that would satiate the desire to do "the right thing".  In this...I am a very grateful man.

I just pray that I can continue to live up to the example given me and if that means my children are to wind up being a better man than I ever was...or will be...then I know I did my job.

Happy Father's Day my people...much love

~Moses Apollo

Progression...

We live, we breathe, we love, we leave.  We laugh, we cry, we rinse till dry.  Only to repeat these glorious movements all over again.  What's great is that we're constantly cycling towards something greater.  Each cycle adding more to us than the last.  Where new breath clears out the toxins of the old.  Where love is fiercer and pain runs deeper.  Where those we love become dearer to us as we begin to see their true value.  Where we laugh neath tears of joy while letting go of all that hindered us at every rinse.  All to live again with newer life.  Movements that break us to make us.  Stay aware...don't miss them or you will risk missing out on all they have to offer...

Never be dismayed.  Never stop believing you will meet that place made just for you.  That place independent of anything or anyone you carry.  That place you will share with those dearest to you.  I am finding mine at every cycle and I pray in earnest you find yours.  We'll share in them together one day.

Always remember:  Two steps forward, one step back...is still one step forward. Much love...

~Moses Apollo

It Shines For You - A Poem by Moe

"...look how it shines for you..."

what lovely woman, beautys haze

your greatness carved in pain

to keep the sun in thoughtful gaze

in eyes where it's found gain

to daily rise and seek your face

its purpose for the day

but still you doubt your beautys grace

where God has had His say

you think yourself too low to rest

among its rays in dew

but know it's placed to praise your best

this sun, it shines for you

~Moses 

Invulnerability: The "Trick"...

I was broken from a young age, Taking my soul into the masses, Write down my poems for the few

That looked at me took to me, shook to me, feeling me..."

Of all the things I could write about tonight this little revelatory piece of dialogue seems best to me.  It is from 1962's "Lawrence Of Arabia" starring the great Peter O' Toole.  I will admit to never having seen this great classic but this one particular scene was rehearsed by the android "David" in 2012's "Prometheus".  A prequel of sorts to the classic "Alien".  You see David was attempting to become more human so he took to studying movies and that one scene stood out as something he would never come to truly understand.

Potter: [trying to copy Lawrence's snuffing a match with his fingers] Oooh! It damn well hurts.

Lawrence: Certainly it hurts.

Potter: Well, what's the trick, then?

Lawrence: The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it hurts.

As an android, he had no sensation of pain so he could never truly understand the truth at the core of human endurance and by extension...human strength.  Study those lines and understand the "greats" you've encountered and what they've had to endure.  How they can take struggle, never seeming to flinch at loss or feel the sting of the punch.  As onlookers, we think them invulnerable to pain when the truth is far more elementary than some imbued super power.  The truth is they feel it all.  They experience grief, loss, fear and doubt just like anyone else.  The difference is found in their experience.  Either in the expectation of what awaits or in the fact that this pain has become so commonplace that it is no longer met with surprise.  They no longer "mind" the pain within the struggle.  It no longer slows them down because as it has in so many times past...resolved itself over time.  They come to understand that the cliche is more than that...it is a truism.  Where there is life, there is in fact...always tomorrow...

For anything a man will face or have to endure, so long as there is life...there is always the opportunity to keep pushing.  The very breath we breathe is reason enough to keep living.  There is a reason why I overuse the phrase "I ain't done yet"...I'm still alive.  Death, loss, pain, grief and failures are only setbacks to the soul that has his eyes fixed on the journey.  I never forget and I always forgive...learning that anything can and will happen along the way.  So what then is the "trick" to invulnerability?  Amongst all great expectation...expect the setback, the delay & the pain. You won't mind it so much when you come to realize an undeniable universal truth...that such things are commonplace for an ordinary life on it's way to becoming extraordinary.  Much love...

PS:  My house still stands as there will never be the need to burn it down ;-)  

True Love - Endangered But Not Extinct...(R)

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love...and be loved in return..."

Jack was as a young poet.  A boy with a pure heart that wandered the country side in search of his one true love.  He came across a beautiful young maiden that drew his attention by her ocean blue eyes and golden hair.  She had a soft demeanor replete with all manner of tenderness to her.  Needless to say, he fell in love quickly with this beautiful angel.  He did everything for her.  Going out of his way in every sense to accommodate her needs and he was more than happy to do so.  At times when he couldn't fulfill a request, she would cry and this would move him to do even more than he had because he could not stand to see her in pain.  After some time, he began to hear whispers about her and others that he would simply brush off.  He even began to hear about her ability to manipulate by easily turning on tears but he would not believe it.  His love for her for was unbending, it had blinded him to any suspicion.  One day, he was in an adjacent room when he overheard her arguing with her father.  As was her way, she began to cry and as he was about to enter the room to comfort her, her father left and the tears all of a sudden stopped.  She didn't know that Jack had seen it and as for Jack...he was crushed to his very soul.  He began to search out the whispers and found them all true. With every new truth uncovered, this uncompromising love began to die within him.  Not just for her...but for love itself.  By the time he came to say goodbye, Jack had become cynical to all the loves that came after.  This young man filled with passion for hope had now become a man that hoped to find passion again but was only met by those with the same cynicism he was doing his best to rid himself of...

Jill was a beautiful young maiden.  Filled with a well of love, hope, dreams and aspirations. Beautiful in every way.  With a smile that could melt the hardest heart.  One day as she was working at the marketplace, a handsome young man approached her and she became enamored by his charm and wit.  He would visit her daily and soon she would fall in love with him.  She knew little about him, but she believed in the purity of love.  She believed that he loved her and that was all that was needed.  He promised her the world and soon, they would move into his home up in the hills.  He told her they would soon be married after he had gotten all his affairs in order and the first few months, she could only describe as "heaven".  As time went on, still unmarried, his demeanor went from charming to forceful.  He would at times purposefully make her feel ugly when other men would look at her and as for her dreams of going on to university, he would cry to her saying that she didn't love him if she went away.  All so he could keep her in his home.  He would even give her more duties to perform so she had very little time for socializing and after awhile, the only soul she would ever see was him.  She lost all interest in taking care of herself and all dreams she had were soon lost in him as well.  She didn't mind it of course.  After all...she loved him.  One day, she decided to finish her duties early and go off to the marketplace to see some friends and what she found crushed her to her very soul.  She saw him in an embrace with another young maiden she had been friends with in times past and she ran home crying.  When he had arrived, she confronted him about what she saw and he became enraged beating her into submission.  With every blow he threw, her love felt every hit. Dying...with every strike to her frail form.  Not just for him...but for love itself.  She left the next day and every new love that came after...was met with suspicion.  This young woman filled with passion for hope had now become a woman that hoped to find passion again but was only met by those with the same suspicion she was doing her best to rid herself of...

and thus began the extinction of "true love"

Oh my beautiful friends...at one time or another, in one form or another, every one of us has been a "Jack" or a "Jill".  Wounded animals are we that dared to love as it was meant to be in a callous world.  We carry those wounds into other relationships.  Our instinctive defense mechanisms kick in, inadvertently wounding others so that the cycle continues until love exists as it does today.  A cheap imitation of itself.  Just another Checkers match for supremacy so that we will never be wounded again.  Causing "love" to become nothing but a curse word.  An emotion that needs changing or tweaking.  Redefined as less than itself simply so that we can keep having companionship without risking a thing.  How do we end this?  How do we give "true love" it's worthy breath again?  I can only offer my opinion from my experience and I will tell you that the first thing that needs to happen is a little something called "healing".  Allow your wounds to heal before you enter into anything else.  Let those wounds become worthy scars.  Find your lesson in each scar and learn where you went wrong.  Study your choices.  Study yourself until every scar carries a lesson.  Forgive those that did you wrong without making excuses for them because making excuses for them will only carry you back to the same garbage you just left.  Back to them or the same garbage found in others.  In time, your scars will reveal to you that love had nothing to do with their lack of character and that at least now, you have a roadmap to what you will accept and what you will not.  All without pain, fear or bitterness, each new soul will be judged on it's own merit based on all the understanding your scars have afforded you.  Soon, true love will not be a thing to be feared...but something you will pine for in the realms of possibility.  Heal up, choose right, love strong and in the end...you will break your cycle.

As for me?  I proudly carry many scars with me.  Some wounds I can say have not fully healed but they are healing even at this writing.  With every brutal look I take through inspection and introspection.  With every consequential thought I entertain I make myself better.  I forgive all that have done me wrong but because I have learned from their wrong, I also know I can only go so far with them and they know this because the boundaries are made plain by me.  As for love?  I only know it as true love.  I don't fear it or any pain that may come while I'm in the throws of it.  Every second I have with it affords me an unparalleled freedom to exist for lasting purpose.  It is pure and wonderful and beautifully fleeting at times but it is just as powerful today as it ever was.  It abides in the pure at heart and in those that have been able to carry scars without the bitterness of pain.  It even abides in those that fear it because at least they give it due diligence enough to respect it's power.  So, even as endangered as it is, I will always welcome it.  As a poet and a lover of passion...I have no choice ;-)  

~Moses Apollo

Savage Voice - A Poem by Moe

what oil and wine then formed and free

did grace combine in planted tree 

a tree that grew to find its way 

to sing of love both night and day

but seasons came that forced its song 

extreme to choose tween right and wrong

and choosing naught but acorns breath

did feign in silence others death

this elden tree sown deep by root

neath rays of sun waned deaf and mute

till moon and stardust heard its choice

to share once more its savage voice

~Moses Apollo

Tasted - A Poem by Moe

"...the moon came..."

harken to this man you feel

whose claim to soothe is just

bless the way he tastes the meal

that's laid before his trust

life demands the heart of him

as duty bids him so

still the hunger pains cry grim

with blood that yearns to flow

wholly spread this meal now mine

and all that lay beneath

savor slowly, this divine

now tasted without teeth

~Moses Apollo