2009 Recap

New Beginning.22.Barack came.Michelle conquered.She was still here. He was still gone. Then I went missing. Sacrifices were so necessary. Green, now that was so necessary. Great Grades.007 Trips. More Poetry.BNV. HE CAME HOME! More love.DC became home again and I wore her on my chest proudly. Rwanda.Philly brought me joy.Said Goodbyes;Peace MJ. Whispered Hellos; Wassup Joy!Restored her faith.Round 2 meant more stress. Missed friends, in came new ones. she printed my quote on her body. I stained my fingers. Back rubs and hetero-sleepovers. Loved again. Gave second chances and received thirds.He saved my life with Blueprint III.Seasoning please:Salt-N-Pepa!Nana lived to see 80.More Great Grades. God has been God. Everything was Everything. More Goodbyes. Love 2009, Love Affair 2010.

Last Day. New Beginning.

I promised never to write a poem about your because it would take too much energy out of me.

Well I refute that statement and have decided to leave my anger, discontent, and willingness to hate in 2009.

And though you may never read this, just the simple fact that it is floating in this universe completes its purpose.

Before I was born,

I met you.

Through the same heart you use to call your love,

Mama

Has spoken highly of you.

The irony that forms between her lips and mine

form two parts of the universe;

Me

One side has carried me through my lifetime

The other is the one that I am afraid to meet.

At Two,

I asked for you.

Mama told me you were in a battle with life, but still fighting

The hopes of seeing me was the only thing that kept you going.

You sent letters so that I wouldn't miss you as much.

I got use to your words.

At Five,

Still no you

Fewer letters

But my hope was still there.

At Eight,

I had learn how to forget about you,

But still dreaming of the day

When I got off the school bus only to be face to face

With Mama's better half.

At Twelve,

I was angry with you.

The letters stopped and so did the calls.

You had forgotten about me.

And I had no intentions of refreshing your memory.

At Sixteen,

I found myself in a difficult spot.

Wanting to know who that reflection was in the mirror,

I thought it was Mama,

But she carried me to a dead end.

Mistaken Identity;

Said it wasn't her, but you.

Said that, yes I had her gap, eyes, and nose,

But that my demeanor was you all over again.

I didn't know if that made her miss you or not.

I tried to change,

but its hard to alter the universe,

especially the shape of the moon

Before Crescent.

19 and now I understand.

I'm ready to forgive you and the man you thought you were.

No hostility, just reality.

You are the man that help created me and I must accept the fact that

Running was easier for you, like it is for most.

But I promise never to be hateful towards you.

And no matter how many time you slap my hand away,

I will always continue to reach out.

Because Mama has taught me to be the person you aren't.

The giver with an expectation of

Nothing

Nada,

Not even a "hello".
She has loved me enough for this lifetime and beyond.

As for now,

I put our future in your hands.

When your ready to complete my circle.

Just give me a buzz.

The number is still the same.

Still Going!..Day 22...22/30-Nana

On November 9th 2009, My Nana celebrated her 80th Birthday. This weekend my family hosted a huge party. I did this poem for her a a gift. Thought I would share it.

_________________________________________________________________________

This poem is for the women who has never had to sit on a thrown to claim her crown

She be Queen.

Edith G. Smythe is a woman of strength

With eyes that have seen far beyond the stories her mouth can tell.

She has wisdom that stretches back into a time

When love and lullabies went hand in hand

And “mama” was the only word you dare to whisper to reveal her smile.

She be Mother Nature in physical form,

Her beauty races through her inner and outer being

Resembling a ray of light,

God didn’t give her a natural glow for nothing.

Eighty has never danced on skin more radiant than hers

Blessed be to those who will follow in the footsteps of the one hand picked by god to fight the cruelest battles of them all

Nana,

Tonight I write you this poem

Thanking you for being the spotlight that shines during the darkest time of one’s life,

Your words have brought peace to many

Settling the dust in forgotten places.

And restoring the sun in your children.

Thank you for always remembering to kiss the sky awake with each dawning

And for granting the moon to us most fearful of nightfall

We appreciate you,

Never taking you for granted

And though the words may not leave our mouths daily

They are forever engraved within our minds

For you be the woman that I dare to become

The leading light in the lives of many

You are so much more than what you can imagine

Your soul will live beyond your life

Through the people you have touched

Purple should only be wore by the most royal,

But you stand queen without it.

Your love will be plaster to back of my heart

For a lifetime

Nana, thank you for filling the empty space in my heart

And for showing me

that I don't have to set on a throne to claim my crown

Because we are all born Queens.

Day 21..21/30-Ode to Hip Hop

Rather Late than never...im terrible!

"Yes Yes Yall and it don’t stop

To the beat yall and it don’t stop

Ah yes yes yall and it don’t stop

I said yes yes yall

SHE IS HIP HOP"

This is for ever brave heart

Strong enough to house a hip hop soul

For those who traded their woodwinds and drums

For the keepsake of their hearts

Introducing a time when

Lips first found love with huddled palms

Recreating mastery sounds

The art of beat box

Became native language for hip hop

For those whose words turned round table story time with griots

into circled ciphers

Reinventing our stage

Forcing rappers to always be at their greatest

Redefining the definition of lyrical geniuses

Poets and MCees

Seize to see their own reflection

Believing to be looking into one mirror

Connecting the line between times

Making two generations into one

Like how

Maya and Lauryn are one

Langston and Lupe are one

Amiri and Tupac are one

We have become known as the generation of the new rerenaissance

Rebirthing the birth of our own culture

But never forgetting the steps it took for us to get here

That’s why you’ll always see breakdancers take two steps before they into their moves

Always remembering to pay homage to the two steppers that blessed the stage before them

Still reinventing our stage

Turning Glazed wood flooring into concrete grounds of main streets

Hip Hop started way before the back allies in the Bronx

This is for those who have forgotten where the seed was planted at first

Jazz has always been the over protective grandfather,

He still lingers in the back beats and melodies of modern days song.

Reminding hip hop that she was built off of his foundations

And that thre blues, no her father was the reason why she can express her inner soul during the darkest times.

Times have changed, but not the reason for our music

Our culture

Still reinventing itself

Like how Henry Tanner's paintings now bless urban streets in the form of graffiti

Hip Hop is here to stay

So we can all continue to say...

"Yes Yes Yall and it don’t stop

To the beat yall and it don’t stop

Ah yes yes yall and it don’t stop

I said yes yes yall

This was an Ode to Hip Hop"

Better late than Never Day 20-2PM

2PM

Math Class:

Numbers tied tightly around my brain

Solving and unsolving themselves

I’d rather not be here

Plugging in numbers for Xs

And then having to graph their Ys

I’d really rather not be here.

I’d rather be somewhere

Maybe somewhere falling in love

But catching my breathe just to say I love you.

They say it only takes two to make the world go round

Kind like how it only takes 2 fingers of yours and two fingers of mine to make our love complete

Baby,

They must’ve added up our emotions subtracted the lust sat first sight only to be left with true feelings

Remembering that 2 has always served as the numerical value for love.

But if not there

Then I'd rather be here

Sitting next to the sister that I never got to meet.

Gone.

Way before I took to mama’s uterus as home.

And Baba told me you were beautiful

Reflecting that of the way the sun kisses the continent awake with each dawning

And though many have forgotten,

The radiance of your skin still sits deep in Mama’s mind.

Her sons would grow to be Kings and

We were suppose to be the two that reminded Mama of what Princesses look like

But you left me before our eyes could ever meet and before our souls kindly introduced themselves

So if not here then

I’d rather go back

Rewind back into a time when change could be made

Only to then be fast forwarded

To a new present when

We ruled the world

Everyone conquered like the Ethiopians

Africa colonized the world

Giving keepsake to native languages.

Never really pursing diamonds because the taste of blood has never sat comfortably on our tongues.

Nubia would never be known as ancient and we would have to deem the Nile its killer.

Katrina and Rwanda would be names of its Dynasties.

And people would forever live

peacefully

Never worrying about someone asking them

“why they where their Africaness so proudly”

Because It would be given

But because I cant go back

I’m stuck here

Room 222 in the this building

Solving and unsolving life’s x’s and y’s

Only to discover new unknowns

So until I’m certain of me

Ill just leave all my answers blank.

DAY 19...19/30-Black Man.

In 2009,

Peace can’t be found plastered to his face

Honesty will never appear to dangle from the tips of his lips

And truth can never seep from his pores.

Because in 2009,

Nothing can fix his broken image.

Not the job he holds,

The types of degrees he’s earned

Or even the necks that stretch high so that lingering eyes are placed upon him

Can restore his image,

he is looked up to.

But nothing is legitimate, except stereotypes

When you are black man.

DAY 18...18/30-Rwanda

This Poem is close to my heart.

It has been 15 years since the genocide in Rwanda.

The whole world watched.

A lot of people died.

This poem is for them.

Because people have forgotten, but not ME.

_____________________________________________________

TEXT:

My fingers travel from

Head to chest

Shoulder to shoulder

For the 10,000 deaths that happen daily

400 every hour

7 every minute

while the whole world watched

The sun never stops gleaming on the pearl of Africa.

And though she kisses the continent awake with each dawning,

there is something

Different about this April.

This april

Something about the way her rays boldly blasting through satin curtains,

declaring her the fairest of them all

April has never been this beautiful.

Then comes the memories,

Of gaudy, bloodstained diamonds dangling like lynched bodies from the ears of rich, white women

As they place freshly picked daisies in the ponytails of their daughters

Believing that their sweet radiance will save them from karma.

Its sometime in April

Sometime in April when morning’s glory greets them at their doorsteps

And isn’t bother by the season’s rain

Its sometime in April

But this April was different

Like little girls who no longer sat by the river and waited for their chance to dance with Nile.

Instead their fingers frequently traveled

From head to chest

Shoulder to shoulder

Observing the 10,000 deaths that happened daily

400 every hour

7 every minute

while the whole world watched.

Blinded by the sun, that had stopped gleaming on the pearl of Africa.

Dance steps clinched feet to resemble Hutu chants

Pawa, Pawa

Pawa Pawa,

Burning soles fell hard on dusty roads

Legs sprinted away from the scent of soul’s burning in the hearts of villages

Red, yellow, and green strips left to mirror Hitler’s swastika 15 years later

And the thick stench of death still intrudes upon the senses

Caressing the morning’s air

This is for Rwanda

Gutted and filleted like a fish to feed the corporate greed

Of those who want what Africa has, without asking for it

This is for every carcass still left rotting in Murambi

For the mamas in hastily tied lappas,

With emptiness in their bellies, clinging babies on their backs,

While trying to race with the bullets of men who nurse AKS in their palms

For the children forced to protect other children against faces familiar enough to be family,

For those who turned down the audio on their video, as soon as they saw the faces were black. This is for Bill Clinton, who sat home playing his saxophone to the tune of

10,000 deaths per day

400 every hour

7 every minute

While the whole world watched.

This is for the men gone mad,

For the masquerade of them who were force to forget that behind their Hutu masks originally lied a Tutsi

Men who kicked their ancestors to the curb, so they could trash the vaginas

Of African women with impunity, and stomp black babies ridiculously,

While pale puppeteers laugh hideously,

At the holocaust they designed, deliberately.

15 years later and the everlasting flame still burns for you

Never calling you the unknown because I know who you were

We remember you

We remember them

the 10,000 who died dailly

400 every hour

7 every minute

While the whole world watched

Until they grew bored and changed the channel.

VIDEO:

DAY 17...17/30-Rocky.

Rocky,
Yes, You are Bi-polar.
Stop barking at me.
You know who I am.

-Bee

DAY 16...16/30-DC to Philly

I left DC
Grimey, yet still beautful after all that she has seen.
Only to meet him.
Just as grimey,
And just as beauitful as my own.
Realizing that I've been walking in circles.
Never really leaving the only place that I have ever known.
I knew it all looked the same for a reason.
My heart carries me home
Reminding me never to forget the place
that took me in like a motherless child
and nursed my poetry to adulthood.
I will never abandon
She.
Will only be a bus ride away.
And I will forever call her home.

DAY 15...15/30-Sims

You stand at a staggering 6'10
Your head literally dancing with the clouds
And after sunset
Your eyes mingle with stars
Reflecting that of the moon in your soul.
I see much through your eyes.
Foreseeing the day that they call you an NBA legend
Dropping doubles with no questions asks
Retired number and all
Your jersey
Hanging in a picture frame
Large enough to the fit the World's Family
Next to the Jordans, Erwings, and Worthys
Sits you..Sims

But in the moment that we speak
You are a star of your own.
With 30 plastered to your back
You must remember to make it more than a number that fans know you by.
Because in the number will live your legacy.
The legacy that began at the touch of basketball
When feet first found love with the court
Before the day you ever knew that you would be able to place your hand on cloud 9.
The day before you ever dreamt of being a Hoya.
That Navy Blue and Grey would bestow a sense of pride
Huddled humbly to your hands and gracing that of your teammates.
Deeming them newfound brothers.

And with that
I see a newfound friendship
With one willing to be seen with a star like me.
I hope you didn’t convince yourself of sole stardom
Because yes I am a star like you.
Writing poems for those who have no voice
And strengthen those with one
Our feet bring us joy
Learned an 8-count
While you were learning lay ups and crossovers
Crossing over into a time when boredom took control of your mind
Leading you to me.
Now we text message all day.
Looking for the intended in the discreet .
The only time when 5'5 can stare into the eyes of 6'10
Knowing your exact thought
At that exact time.
Resembling that of the constellations.
Something that is only known to stars.

Stars like US

DAY 14...14/30-CuzMameSay.

Obedient boy
Mama's third Emir
Professed loyalty to her since the day you left her womb
Only to meet her eyes
Resembleming that of your own.
The same eyes that would forever guide you on your path of life.
Your answer to life was always "CuzMameSay"

Age 3
You would never move from the spot that mama left you in.
Never easily persuaded like your older brothers.
Even when they tried to bribe you with food
You would simply say "No"
And when asked why you would say "CuzMameSay dont move"
Remembering that she would never let you go hungry in this world.

Age 15
When the neighborhood kids tried to get you to smoke a joint
Your mind would race back to image of Mama's disappointed face
And you would simply say "No"
Never asking you why because that meant a little more of weed for them.
But you always answered why to yourself
"CuzMameSay smoking was never allowed in her house"
And real men would never put anything to their lips
That would release a little bit of their soul when they exhaled.

At age 20
Whe teammates tried to convince you that taking steroids would be the only way you would make it to the League.
You simply answered "No"
This time reintroducing the "CuzMameSay" in you.
Believing that all things happen for a reason.

You have never stopped believing in Mommy
And at age 28 she still guides your earthly path.
You are one of the few men that she knows
Still looking up to her
Even as you now
tower over her.
All 6'4 of you is still a mama's boy at heart;
She knows you as her "CuzMameSay" Boy.

DAY 13...13/30-I Love.

I LOVE:

Mommy
Roland
Stefan
Chris
Al
Beautiful People
Black Men
Toni Morrison
Children
MD
DC
Philly
When he calls just to tell me he was thinking about me.
Our love
His understanding
When people read my poetry and appreciate it for what it is.
A good 8-count.
A good book.
When I find a nice pair of earrings at the thift store.
When I see a beautiful black family.
New clothes
When I get first dipps on anything.
Birthday Cake Remix from Cold Stones.
Writing Poetry
Caressing my hair after I just got it done.
When I have money in my account.
When my mother transfers money into my account.
When my brother transfers money into my account.
When my other brother transfers money into my account.
When my mother tells me stories about her youthful days in Switzerland.
The feeling of being drunk (not the process though.)
Being humble.
Meeting humble people.
My Poetry
Other people's poetry.
Performing.
Biting my nails.
Walking with my eyes closed.
Who I am.
Who I am growing to be.
Who I have been.
What I will become.
Suzan
Naya
Amina
Talisa
Carla
Ant.
Murk
Safia
Ade
My past
My present
My future.

DAY 12...12/30-I Hate.

I HATE:

Ugly people.

Pimples

Toes

Guts

Love.

When people put the orange juice by in the refrigerator when they know there is nothing, but a drop left.

When people leave the toilet seat up.

When people are rude for no apparent reason.

When people lie for no apparent reason.

When people get mad for no apparent reason.

All the DC students who have no summer jobs and apparently no summer assignments, so they just chill in Gallery Place ALL DAY and stand outside the McDonald’s until they get board and move to the Chipotle.

All the Montgomery County students who have no summer jobs and apparently no summer assignments, so they just chill in Downtown Silver Spring ALL DAY and stand outside the movie theater until they get board and move to the Chipotle.

When people say “Let me call you right back” and never call back.

When people say "Chill moe"..(fuck is a moe?)

When my mother takes me places and introduces me to 100 people and I have to plaster this false smile on my face that begins to hurt after a while.

When Richard wakes me up in the morning to ask me for cereal when there are like a million and one people in that house that he has to pass before he reaches me.

When Thomas brutally jumps on my back; claiming to be an alarm clock.

People who can’t drive.

People who hate themselves which leads to hating other people.

Ignorant people.

Wet Jays.

Fishnet anything.

Harry Potter (1-86387237. )

American Idols (seasons 1-873487483)

Africans who think they are Americans. (all over the world)

When people give me the 419!

Boys who think they are men.

Ugly people.

Pimples

Toes

Guts

Love.

DAY 11...11/30-Rated NC-17

Please Excuse me for the interruption, but

BREAKING NEWS!!

I'm not the one to be mean, but...

You make me sick...
You don't know how to treat children
Teach children
Or take care of children
And then you try to call yourself a mother
DAMN how that word is use so loosely these days
Like your morals
And like your legs..
Slitted out more kids than all the vaginas in all the abortion clinics around America
Godly you are; MY ASS
Hasn't anyone informed you that going to church every Saturday doesn't really make you a Christian?
Guess they forgot to teach you that in Sabbath School.
Mama raised me to respect all
But to be disrespected by none.
You definitely need to learn this.

Because you crossed the line with me.

And yes
YOU too make me sick.
Who are you to judge me.
When you were 18 you had 72,619 kids already.
How many do I have..0 and aint counting..
Loose values have never crossed my mind
Because mama raised me right
Raised me to believe that love is an understanding between two human beings.
Love isn't lust
Maybe she should have raised you too.

Wouldn't have 6 kids by 7 different men. (I didn't even know that was possible..lol)

And yes yes
You Too (well really three)
Make me sick.
Hold my stomach with my hand
And my head over the toilet.
In preparation of how sick you make me.
What's up with all these "Godly" people
With disappointing past,
But even more disappointing futures.
Why are YOU talking about anybody?
You found your present husband on the arm of a women you called your bestfriend/sister.
A women who named you the god-mother of her daughter.
A women who took you in when no one else wanted to.
You think running away is cool huh..
Naw shit just catches up to you.
Mama should have helped you with this earlier in your life

When yall were growing up
Because I know she understood this.
You can't run away from life..
It's like the moon at night..
It follows you where ever you might be.

TO HER, HER & HER

Please do the world a favor

And let your voice simmer down to a murmur.

You

Nor

You

Nor

You

Are not worthy enough to speak!

Consider this the last respect you get from me

Because if I hear my name in your mouth again

I will personally come and rip the voice boxes out of your throats.

Whooow!. that felt so damn good!

Now back to your regularly schedule program!

DAY 10...10/30-The Rebirth

Roland N. Dunbar

Stefan G. Dunbar

Christian S. Dunbar

Al W. Glay

The Atlantic has deceive us brutally

And the constant feeling of reuniting

Is starting to take an unwanted toll on me

But it is for Mama’s sake that you left me

Four princes settling to make ends meet

At the cost of missing the only girl they have ever called their Princess.

Not a day goes by where my mind doesn’t cross the paths of wondering about

You,

You,

You,

You.

I still miss you.

Emmanuel J. King

Charles B. Daniels

Richard E. Williams

Thomas I. Brown

The Atlantic has been good to me

The constant feeling of love and happiness has resided with me since our meeting

Taking the presence that I missed in my brothers and

Transferring it into

You,

You ,

You ,

You

Who are my nephews,

Have blessed me.

Temporarily replacing the empty spaces

Left unfilled by the men that I will forever call my Kings.

And I thank you for this.

Though you may not understand a word of this poem

I still feel the need to thank you.

You are the rebirth of the spirits of my brothers.

It is like he heard my cries late into the night

When I thought the world was sleeping.

And immediately sent you to me.

All four of you.

Your innocence constantly distracts the ache in my heart

That will one day be cured with the reuniting of my brothers and I.

A gift it would be to see them on a daily,

Like the good ol’ days….

Damn, how I miss them.

DAY 9...9/30-Tattoo

The sensation should be too much for one to handle,

But you sit there.

Proud smile plaster on your face

And I can't translate your eyes

Because of those golden curls scatter in front

But your cheek bones remind me of your smile

Running parallel

Hold your crown high and let it illuminate in the sun;

Becoming as lovely as mother earth was

when she made you as refined as you are.

She now rests with you

Embedded the words:

"Mankind started with you despite the myths. Deeming you mother and me queen. You will forever be mine, no matter what ocean seperates us."

in her given shape.

Take peace with you

Because I believe that they have forgotten about it.

I don't think you understand what you now hold with you.

Its our mother

Mother Africa....

DAY 8...8/30-East to West

Her name is Suzan
&
The homely glow that takes to her face is peaceful
Resembling that of the East.
Ethiopia;
Its beauty reflects the same sacred feeling
Of those most proud when spotting their
Coates of Arms place on solid blue
Centered across green, yellow and red strips.
Blessings have been placed upon her
She is a decent; taking to the east side of Our dear mother.
And calling it home
Residing heavy on tongue her native has never left her
Despite the grasp America has tried to hold
She has never let her culture slip through lost cracks
Or has been influenced by the lost souls.
It has stayed with.


Her name is Nana-Yaa
&
The homely glow that takes to her face is peaceful as well
Resembling that of the West.
Ghana;
Its beauty reflects the same sacred feeling
Of those most proud when spotting their
Single Star
Centered across red, yellow and green strips.
Blessings have been placed upon her
She is a decent; taking to the west side of Our dear mother.
And calling it home
Residing heavy on tongue her native has never left her
Despite the grasp American has tried to hold
She has never let culture slip through lost cracks
Or has been influenced by the lost souls.




They share the same story
The same struggle
Placing themselves between times
That extend from way back like
To back then when
being African reflected that of one of the seven sins
To present; now
When being cultured is real cool.
To back then when
They wanted nothing to do with Africa
To present; now
Where spending their last cash on Dashikis from Urban Outfitters means they're trying to reconnect with their lost mother
Blessed be to those
Like Suzan and Nana-Yaa
Who followed the paved path by
Eager minds never wanting to lose themselves
On foreign soil.
Though it is to easy for them to forget where they are orginally from
But they are steady digging
fighting frantically to keeps their roots visible.
Because she is forever resting with them
No matter what ocean separates her.

DAY 7...7/30-Letters to You

Mikey,

Its been a year since a tainted eye has fallen on you,

Peacefully;

But they celebrated for you today

Like you had just drifted away from life

Ready to reappear anytime.

It hasn't been easy

Many eyelids left opened to allow the breeze to caress their burning irises.

Placed many souls in the hands of those worthy enough to trust

In hopes that your spirit will forever follow them.

&

They reintroduced themselves today,

The ceased tears that everyone had forgotten about

Rolled down their cheeks with necks stretched high.

Apprehensive stares wondering if you,

Michael Francis Taylor

Will ever reappear.

But only the clouds will tell

In time; before sunset

And after darkness,

They will carry your message through constellations

pinpointing every star.

Reflecting that of you in the water.

Always resting by the soul of the earth.

Forever you will stay with them.

Keep Watching...They Still Need You...

___________________________________

Uncle Jenkins,

I have learned how to love you through mama's memories

And Aunty Mina's heart

Both still see you through Jenkins,

Naylor acquired your wits

And Korto is still your "Sweet Pea"

She misses your smile that came with every morning.

Blissful timing

Will help with healing

Keep watch over us

and Roland too,

He misses you dearly.

Cried like a baby before he broke the news to mama.

As for those theives,

They are promise their own fate.

Love,

BD

DAY 6...6/30-Not Yet

Day 6 still isnt finished...im working on it though. be patience please.

Update/Check-In

The loves of my life are also during 30/30 so make sure you check them out too!!

Murktarat

www.bantumigrations.blogspot.com

Safia

www.oddballsdontbounce.blogspot.com

Ade

www.jourmeansclouds.blogspot.com

As for me my day is going well. And I'm excited because this is the longest I've ever been commited to something (men/relationships included..lol).

thats all for me.

peace.

DAY 5...5/30-Daily

5 Haikus for day Number 5.

Still going strong indeed.

Enjoy.

(no disclaimer, but I am a newbee when it comes to haikus)

Mama

She's never had to sit

On a throne to claim her crown

She is a Queen.

Soul

Life is like Hip Hop

The beat keeps playing; Even when

You are dead and gone

July

The season of Heart

Strokes, No blessed rain

Summer love has just begun

DC Reality

She is still Beautiful

Despite the myths;

AIDS is her Katrina now

Smartrip

Annhhh Annhh Annhh; Must you,

Remind me; I know I have

No money on you

DAY 4...4/30-My Purpose.

The great Laini Mataka asked me why do I think God put me on this earth. What is my purpose?
and so I answer her with this poem.
____________________________________________________________________

I am here.
Connecting and reconnecting
Those lost.
Tied

D
O
W
N

By life’s flaws
With weighted expectancies
On a path paved by her fingertips
And though I am the last
I am left leading all 5
She had me
For the sole purpose of carrying the weight of the world on my shoulder blades
So that her boys
No her princes
Wouldn’t have to complain of back pains

Mama,
I understand you
But breathing for the souls of 5 gets difficult sometimes.
Forgive me because I am not perfect.
I am just here
Connecting and reconnecting
Those lost between tangled blood lines.
You think I am wasting time, but
The path is paved lightly
And sometimes the lines are not distinct
So it takes me some time to redefine the way
But I promise
We will get there
In sure time.
In one piece,
Humble Minds,

Me
You
Roland
Stefan
Chris
& Al.

And yes.
I am still here
fulfilling my purpose.