Have not posted a "regular" journal in a while, so lemme try this.. My week has been very typical for me which mean i have been running myself into the ground. I not only am in the classroom and coaching after school each day this week ( and my team looks real green.. still working on OFF line drills and have not even goten to defense and a game on the 29th.. go figure..(can you say getting blow out and dominated?).. anyhow Jah will see us through and speed up our progress.. anyhowz.. i have had to get the seeds cause.. the wiz has been doing a few other important things (dinner, hair, meeting, etc), also had to take the seeds with me to look at a few properties and that is always fun..Going into empty homes with your 9 and 6 year old which at times is not the cleanest or "safest" place..I have stories of looking at properties that has had a rat run across the kithcen floor as i was looking in the DR.. (with my son).. and had my agent running out of the house. Folks might say "why the .. would you ever need to go into a house like that".. wiithout too much convo .. because they can clean up nice and be worth the effort.. esepcially a good home when initially no one wanted to touch it...anyhowz.. then i hear "we hungry .. we hungry what we gonna have".. and i tell you watchiing super size with the seeds has swore then off of fast food, but then in a spot like this, what do you do.. try my best is all i can tell you.. Anyway this is my week, even today.. collecting rent and trying to put a bigger shower rod up for a tenant with a claw foot tub.. just to have the wiz like .." why you leavin. i just got home.." thinking to myself..so we can eat fool LOL.. anyhows we cool i am just so tired that i cant sleep.. soo i guess i will write .. lemme see..


Creation..

She was created..
in water and wisdom..
time and prophecy..
she takes my breath and yet gave it to me still
I wonder at creation, I wonder.

She blinks and gives me madness in places unproper
we dance in each others minds secretly
and wish to offer the gift of release..
queitly wishing to give..
the gift of creation, the gift of creation.

Divine acrhitect.. surveyor of things moving and still..
we mock her so some of us..
and almost bait the waters to rise again..
who will be pair up this time..
who will be..
as creation "indian gives" as creation "indian gives".

Making money is such a past time in these days..
vices are all for profit and sale
prophet and sail..
we sway in the winds without direction..
with half-a-man as our sails..
reducing creation to a dub..
bring creation to dub.

Always ending with She..
my preoccupation and only true disire..
love is her and she makes it four letter easy..
we still want that other 4 letter word to be part of our connection..
creation bend over a park bench.. creation i drink big gulps..
creation i pound deep and strong..
creation makes me numb..
I creation.
.

Jah forgive my fire this day
you place heavy humanity in my soul these times
trying times
pivoting times
times of pitch black nite in wide spaces made narrow in the name of "rescue"
feces and brimstone created for my bredda and dawta to reside in
may i spite Babylon dead where they stand
will I receive your blessing in this deed?
It becomes so hard my grand architect..
to watch your minor signs
and man still spite your essence
Lemme word serve as obedah to their souls
burn dem in pits deep as
deep as my dispair these times..
Money no matter no more, money no matter.
How can they sit and mock you this way?
how can their souls permit this?
and look away as each walks wet streets and chaos
as the poeple of Jeru turn their backs in shame and piety
Blast dem all my savior , blast them all to the beast..
I know their souls will die ten thousand deaths in time.. as they permit your people get slaughtered as lambs..
make me that Lion this eve..
give me permission to sound trumpets and crack that 7th seal my father..
why bother with the lost of you?
those that mock and blastpheme..
Is this a dream?
bless my soul and its thoughts this day!

peace all

 :cloud9:  
Friday, after eating and smiling on fresh grass at dusk and blanket, and waiting to catch a glimpse of a smile and Neptune in the sky aided by lenses and mirrors, our thoughts and eyes connected again. 
Intense images of possibilities make us both "blink".. "How right would that be if..."

Anxiety hits us both as I suggest retreating to a warmer private place.. She asks.."Where is this going handsome..  I am not prepared to give all of me to you if that is the premise.. my mind is not prepare for that."  I smile and say "No pressure queen, that is not my intention , just to enjoy each other's company and..  whenever you are prepared, I will be heer."

Now on cozy livingroom berber, as fire light adds scene and sounds soft, conversations span from Mother Afrik to stellar theory.. spooning and whispering intellected , naked minds , fully clothed, in each other's ears.. as... she.. startled by here own thoughts.. retracks her mind to say.. "Lemme do your hair handsome brother.." smiling.

Laughing softly and welcome the proposition and the possibilities..
.. into a bathroom, kneeling at the base of antique clawfoot tub, she sits on the edge beside aher kneeling king.. and pushed my head into the stream.
Baptising words came to mind as each slender finger glides through strings and strands.  "Oh what magical hands".  Not beignaroused by this experience was impossible for me as this experience of water, sensation, and connection overwhelmed me as I took forceful breaths and yearned to slay her right there.. next to the tub, wet cold marble floor, naked, wet, with so many textures connecting us.

I did nto.. stayed patient and grateful kneeing concealed my body's intentions, continued to kneel and enjoy this gift.  I was not alone in this.  I could feel the passion in her fingers as soapy hands probed this scalp of mine, occasionally massaging now wet back, neck and shoulders.. we were there, together.  With one touch.. after this.. I would sure explode all around her.

...
...Face and hair wrapped in towels.. chest, neck, and  shoulders still slick and wet.  I recline betwen her opened legs, as I emember doing as a afro child.  Delicate hands, pat dry hair long as I lean back playfully resting the back of my wet hair between her breats, peaked before she states firmly "You wettin my shirt silly".. pushing my head gently forward again.  This feels so right, back to her, sitting in between heaven, wet hair as if from the river Jordan itself.. I was whole this eve.  As thin strong fingers glidded patting shea butter and olive oil onto my scalp..all I could imagine is her face, her smile her wet slick hands and fingers her now damp bra, the beating of her heart on my shoulders and back.. and how I am so into her.

Occasionally moving and parting and adjusting my roots, I would rubbing my fingers along her bent knee, thigh and calf to keep whatever contact I could with this incredible gift.. this interlude went on in this vain, no rush, seemingly for eternity  but in real time close to 3 in the dawn.. and as I sense the completion hear.. all I could think of was what would be next..

Not a piece.. but many end up turning into one as it manifests.

Feeling very, unappreciated today..  Without going in too personal.. I have a huge plate always and willfully, and it is always full and has been made fuller by things unforseen.  I know my role and work hard to fulfill it and would have it no other way.. but I do not wanna start to pull your weight and you submit to that TOO willingly and very.. ok.. that was my vent. lemme see..

 

Stand  and deliver..

time and space brings sould same and different into a space that causes..

that causes..

then time pauses..  we sytand still in luv and compainionship..

2 into one  but still two nonetheless..

but I guess,

I guess..

as passions take alternate directions and the 2 becomes so, so apparent..

what else is there, to be there.. if not just am parent?  riddle me that?

I willfully wear all hats..

seperate lightblues, khakis and tans in warms to clean but not to fade..

will attempt to braid..

will take off to take me little makeda princess to cure the infection in her ear..

but when i need you home to handle money business clear..

Man?  Dear..

This is for us..

but my candles both ends dripping on the web sites..

dripping on Venture Investors LLC

dripping on the roof of the last vacant property that needs to be fixed and occupied..

when it seems you ARE occupied..

I ask alot because I give that equal..

Please i beg not a sequal.. of years past.

END

smokey filled air
scenting nostrils
with the strength of
lemongrass and ginger
lighting up the moon
smooth and fragrant
watching magic
bloom from a star

wafting in the breeze
of warm and tender
walking paved roads
of laughter
retiring from
yesteryears' cold

breaths steam whispers
soft and calm into a
chorus of melodic intoxication
drizzled its' rhythm
in tiny specks of
beauty unveiled

glowing smiles
inside our brains
soothing ever so sweetly
over summers' song
gentle as the midnight rain

Trinity with you and I
mind, body, soul.. us
like..
1st crush luv..
"without her near me i will naver make it.."
to 6th grade....
and hearing older wiser stating" what is all the fuss?".
Passion like..
al-Najah infitada generation..
live or die type commitment..
other admire and ..
move the hell out of the way.
Rhyme does not fit itself to this luv..
limits need not be placed..
we build invisible 7's recreating perfect humanity..
Somehow.. I bear your future in me.
Sorry..
Mustard seed faith..
patient respectful lion..
but feed nonetheless.
Did not wanna put to much complexity in this hea'
sometimes big words are hard to hear , ya' know?
simply put..
putting me in a room with her..
elementary, divinity, destiny.

playground..

summer morning hinting mango..

my footing.. my footing.. on a rainbow smile..

tasting like strawberry peach.. let me lay and lick the terrain for a while..

parked drinking on this sunlight beach..

stretching deep, far as mine may reach.

Sweet in the middle.. sour near my throat..

this be part the riddle..the reason i that i wrote..

from corners to where blood breaths in the light of the moring sun..

to where palettes twists and twirl from two brought to one.

Spinning, sliding heart rate residing.. where teeth lay dividing.. and tongues upon outer enamel gliding..

Oh what a joyous ride.

What magic could happen with such toys and objects of desire..

how those where parted spit words of fire..

how i travel to ends and draw line as to wire..

what magic could happen with such toys and objects of desire..

How beautiful... a playgound

 

 

Usually most things flow to me in verse and the inspiration causes me to wanna compose something beautiful.  Sometimes that beauty i wish to make is only a facade of the real feeling that I hide inside.  I mask them twixt cute sometimes erotic metaphors and verses tainted with science and other things.  Sometimes, sometimes  i just feel luved... and it overwhelms me.  I am very needy I know that about myself.  I do not cry for attention but I invent ways to battle for the favor of those I wish for.  I get creative, suggestive.. whatever it takes.  I my quiet place I pray and cry  and smile  with the good and the bad, always keeping in mind those i care for and how to make them aware of this fact.  There are times when the patience, compassion and generosity of some, .. few make such an impression upon me i might otherwise feel lost without their presence (however i am meant to benefit).  Near or Far, i seek their influence.. AND THE SUPRISING THIS IS.... they are there not on my time.. but wheni need it and least expect it.  Like a shooting Star.  I am so very blessed to have such relationships even in their trying times.. that I sometime CURSE FATE.  But this is my thought for today.. and they hopefully know their lasting impression.. and my development resulting fro it.

peace

d

 

 :'(

" The road to hell is paved in good intentions..."
Misguided, chided for when my passions and pain collided..
faith suspensions.. only to redo egotistic divinintiy..
serving detentions..
Denial master..
crying in the dark..
amoung friends..
alone.. in a room , laughter
"Sweet King of kings.. please hit my mark"..
stab the pain till it too bleeds..
as I pray for my innocent, sinful deeds..
and wait for your sign..
Sweet Jah i know I am yours, cause my heart claims you as mine..
Please give me the time..
defeated on all fours..
help me rise.

I hear your beautiful music playing for me..
the light i walk to blindly..
Whispers from all sides..
there she hides... to break me..
he mummbles..
they proposition..
I stumble.. lose my position..
Catch me blessed father.. catch me..
my flesh is ..
all I claim as my own..
I pray, one day.. that with you i find a home..
Pain, Pain, Pain..
doubt..
babylon in my head i am yet to get out...
let me rise.

Epiphany..
Sweet victory..
ecclesiatic
I picture my..
my..
sweet Jah..
myself..
crying..
with tears falling on the white horse I ride..
as I bleed no more..
I shine bright like the sun..
and his spirit feels like the water on my skin..and it washes the sweat marking my sin..
mind's eye sees creation in a snap..
crucial baby..
fi bonononous.. crucial ..
Have you ever seen black shine so, so bright, my soul embraces Eve in the flesh..
In Zion I walk forever..
My mane swings in Nine Mile Kingston..
Tafari and I share a handshake and I wield sword..
Oh Isreal.. I wake..
still in sin's flesh..
but blessed just the same..
conquering lion..
stronger each day..
by day..
by day..
Him voice guiding my soul..
most of the time..
and he smiles at his
crafty..
naughty, precious, little son..
with a smile of pride..
and whispers..
no need to hide..
my little lion..
blessed be your creation and my mistake..
my mistake is none..
we have won my child,.,
(whew!)
and i await your soul with me.

On my way back
Flipping past books Nicean
Hearing whispers of the Wisdom of Solomon
Apocrypha orphans like transplanted seeds for Afric
Lost my way home
I Reveled in arts of “black”..
Thinking they were mine...
Like Sin in itself is perfect.

On my way back
Waiting to be broken and splintered
Dust once more
From burning transgressions that caught souls
and clothes ablaze…
now waiting on the mere speak of my architect
to like phoenix raise… me
o’ I ...skilled tactition in the farse..
shadow of man once..
NOW
On my way back living a-alike
I-an-I
King of Kings luv...
but only with permission from my father.

On my way back
My tears wash me like the Red Sea
His blood in my mouth
My soul in his hands
I would rather die sometimes..
Like, Gabriel burn my 150 wings
lemme be warrior chastised
I feel no longer worthy..
But I am on my way back.

On my way back
With the Book of the Glory of Kings under my arm
Whispering Zion’s song..
Sweet redemption softens my step..
With each sin..
Strangely, in grow stronger in the word flesh
And for Jacob’s ladder I wait..
For my turn to ascend into righteous.