"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...
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...
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.
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...
