Seven Pounds

There is so much of life we live for ourselves . Never taking stake in the lives of others or exert the energy it would take to fix whatever problems we have to fix. I wonder if any one man amassed the fortune it would take to heal all the wounds from the worlds many lacerations, would he. An addage I've heard since I was too young to remember is, "You can't take it with you." Which raises the question, why work so hard to have something you'll ultimately lose. As with love, we search for it for, thrive for it, pain from the loss of it, and swell from idea that you may have a chance at it. Eventually, if you are lucky enough, you find that man/woman who sets your soul on fire at the thought of them. If you're luckier than that, you date, fall in love, and marry. Live, have children become old...and here's when the fairytale ends. One of you leaves this world before the other...and everything you've existed for shifts. The center of your world is disappears. Your core dies and the process to find a new core weight begins, as if you are reliving all the events of your life if you've chosen a different path to execute it. These different variables draw question upon question which all comes back to why. The finite of the five inquisitions which plagues humanity to find reason. Life is too short not to share or experience. Not to feel, grasp by its very essence and hold on to each moment. They are each the most important seconds of your existance because you cannot get them back. We think ever so little of seconds we take to predetermine how important any persons welfare, feelings, or existance is to us. These type of judgements, if they are ever needed to be made should require more than the seconds we take to bat our eyes away the homeless, turn our noses up at dreamers, and throw daggers at those who dare to live to their own standards. We are imperfectly exact to whom we are all supposed to be...no one else. Sometimes the seven tons of pressure we allow our judgement to anchor our lives down with is really as light as seven pounds.

Earth and Air

You are the air that I breathe
And I your fertile ground.
We plant these seeds, with the need to learn patience,
So latent from a feeling that sparked when eyes met.
This may sound pathetic,
But the energy between us is kinetic.
I'm serious!
If I stare into your eyes long enough,
I can hear your thoughts.
I can feel you blushes
Like words left your mouth
And it was my heart it touches.
You are so luscious,
Cocoa whipped cream
That I feen for,
But slowly take steps so it means more.
More...
More time for you, Venus,
Cause you're too heavenly to just be my Earth.
I don't wish to be Jupiter,
Cause what good is a king without his queen?
No, I'm merely Saturn,
Daydreaming of the day she wears my rings,
And I carry her across the threshold of our personal universe.
My air princes,
With wintery cold fronts I never wish to see.
Can I exist on just one of your summer breezes?
Can your warm air ease in through my nostrils,
Live in my chest,
And transform into a million, "I Love You"s as it exits through my mouth.
I stand vigilant,
Your rock century.
Who life blew across time from a pebble into a mountain.
Broken down by past love into the form you see...
Willing to brave the world for you
Simply because I would get to share the world with you.
We are earth and air, with us life can exist.
My Libra enchantress,
Thank you for allowing this Capricorn's sun to finally shine through.

49er

I'm a forty niner,
Not pigskin and grid iron but,
Pick axe and dungarees searching for,
Praying for,
Yearning for,
Golden bars of poetry and verse.
Sifting through your bullshit bravado,
Say-ying your heart-less rhymes in sta-cca-to
No dough rays me fa prose or cheap flows.
Those keep my heart closed from these hoes.
Pimps, tricking their treasure for leisure,
Suited for suicide, burlap guillotine tie
With kerosene combed hair
Dripping wet and trailing behind you from show to show.
You are fool's folly, dumby rock, the piss covered salt stone,
Alchemists who are trained to feign the philosopher's,
Stone cold frauds!
I am a forty niner.
In search wealth and a better life,
So I sacrifice my soul to rhythm of hymns,
Humming Tao tones,
Which sound like dial tones.
Operator, is there a long distance number for me to reach Dilla on.
Can I call collect to Scott La Rock cause the bridge is out.
I'm out of range, can you please give me the exchange to Isaac Hayes suite on the seventh tear of heaven.
Cause to get through one more day of this foolishness I need healing from Black Moses.
I'm loosing it!
Slipping on this phone trying dial heaven from earth,
Thinking I could piggy back my signal from from a satelite I confused for angel's wings.
I am a forty niner!
I am the listener of lies,
The meditator of myths,
That scribed the hieroglyphs on sandstone and pressed them on the foreheads of kings till they became legend.
I am legendary!
I am now!
I am this very moment mounted on the precipice of your earlobe.
Waiting to be blown full force into your eardrum by sound of my voice.
The vocal hurricane which you had more than enough time to avoid,
But is so strong you were bludgeoned by pieces of levy...
Wait.
That's your ignorance caving in from all my mining...
Burrowing through your bones till hollow.
Hollowing out your heart and I borrow,
From my well to refill you inspiration...
So you can have your own water to sift through the bullshit...
I am a forty niner...
I mine souls to find gold so bright and bold it blinds the sun.
I am forty niner, from Monday to Friday,
Twenty four sets of eyes gaze upon me as I,
Try my damnedest to find gold so bright it blinds the sun within them.
Except for the one whose twin...was ripped out by a gun.
Leaving one.
I am a forty niner!

Love: A Haiku

I fuck it all up.
Cannot stop fucking it up.
Fucking it, I don't care.

Missless

I woke up this morning and I stopped missing you..
It was like the years of friendship disolved into a large puddle of mess our relationship was,
And flushed itself straight down the toilet.
I guess it started months before I said I love you.
Years before I couldn't stand you...
I have been missing some part of you since our souls seperated in heaven.
Although...certainty is only assured by fact your smile haunts me like a memory lost within the ripples of time...
Wrapped tightly around us so that you can feel the meaning rather than hear words which have been empty before.
But strangely, today...that longing lost the luster.
The last link in this chain bonding my love to yours.
Broke into a thousand pieces like cheap shattered glass.
Crystal doesn't come with the same impervious guarantee.
But I'm sure this is what you get for love on stand by.
So idle hearts broken from lost love tried to reattach the jagged halves to make whole.
Though the tape and super glue generally hold fast for short periods,
The permanance of malmatched love is preordained to fail.
So blinded, vision distorted by anger, hurt, and dispare,
I climbed into my own self loathing and mourned a very special friendship destroyed by loneliness.
An empty feeling of unwant that lead me to believe every moment which I existed was for your happiness.
For that...I was wrong.
But...somehow...someway...
I woke up this morning and I stopped missing you.
So where is up,
Why is down,
When is left,
And most importantly...
Who is right...if anyone?

On With The Show!!!

Welcome to FuckMeTV.
It must be cable cause the hate crimes
Committed in real time are too deep for network television.
As if my life was some fiction based reality sitcom drama.
Where the slightest hint of a melody throws me back to some point where I was given a last kiss good night, smacked in the face with some reality which could only exist as part of some elaborate story dreamt up by the most creative of minds.
Characters of all kinds making their entrances,
Feigning genuine feeling through real thoughts
Scribed to page, red lined, and drafted twice.
Dry read in plain clothes while eating bagels made from rye bread,
Dress rehearsed and finally debuted to the world.
Stood the test of 16 seasons of up and downs
Yet I felt like I was still only a pilot with delusions of longevity.
Soaring in ratings but the plug was pulled cause the happy ending is too cliché and fictitious to ever really happen.
So we settle for the lives we fall into...
My black and white movie has been left without sound.
Devoid of dialogue, so the audience can feel the inflated responsibility of building their own pespective of a life that doesn't belong to anyone.
As for the her, she remains a Terry McMillan, Tyler Perry, Zane, Omar Tyree, Eric Jerome Dickie carbon copy destined to spiral towards todays cynical view of happiness.
Though....they say...that's showbiz!

Jazznevashykrystal

If self loathing was an artform, you would be Michelangelo, and my soul the roof of the Sistine Chapel.
My heart Van Gogh's ear,
And my life the semblence of David.
Picasso had a blue period, but no hue close
To that of the one I felt with you.
Not even the style of music held the pain.
Yes your name rings moving horns,
Falling and crashing melodies thickened by quickly paced drums.
But...my honeysuckle rose never bloomed in autumn.
And New York was lack luster for Moody's mood.
Longing for one night under Tunisian skies without feeling melancholy.
Somberly dancing the solamente uno
When el concion was made bailar junto.
So...
We won't say it will neva happen.
Won't say I'll neva stop loving you.
Neva say goodbye
Neva say goodnight
Neva close that door
Neva poor every ounce trust I have in this situation into the gutter.
Neva tell a woman how much she means to me
And neva tell her I love her.
Cause if you are neva to say neva, I've already done it to the power of 8.
No escape...being your confidant and best friend
Cancels out my own love and leaves no room for grievance.
I bottle our strained existance and exit stage right.
Head held high...
Cause although you shine like silver pieces
The divinity of my own self worth cannot be purchased with minted metal.
I love that I loved you.
I learned that I wanted you.
And realized I never really needed you.

Ink Scarred Tissue

I told you I was a sucker for love,
Heart on sleeve,
Transposed to the sole of your shoe
Wrapped around my own clavical,
And buried with me.
Suicide by noose made from strained heart strings.
I'm just the yesterday of tomorrow,
The shadow of a withered distant future
Trying to understand why I'm scared of myself.
In the company of aparitions,
More apathetic and vivrant than th liveliest of those still walking.
Zombies robbing the world of the living of its perfection by fucking up their own temples.
Sacrilage with false idols of liquor and chemical stimulants.
Symbolism is symbiotic with sins.
I am Madusas eyes with cheap contacts
Trying to understand Gill Scotts depiction of the Wright Brothers plight.
Contact!
The life after life
Past the signs leading to Peter's gate
Or Satans plate.
Trapped at the fork
Trying to force out the stainless steel prongs
And climb higher through the food chain.
I'm left brain logic with insane third party intuition.
The mission statement from West African tribes to the Carribean from the slave ship.
Embedded from dirt road to pavement.
Adjacent to ghetto like my end result is a prerequisite.
Recognized by government as natural selection
Stuck at the intersection of faith and belief
Like an athiest who saw God surviving a fatal accident.
I stand at the threshold of forever not crossing cause i'm too scared of the seconds following
"I Love You"
To move forward past everything that follows.
Where nothing even matters but you,
Where I want you like Erykah wanted Dilla when she wrote telephone.
"Telephone...it's Myk Dya-. I'm spittin words to guide you home. Hope it won't be too long....No it won't be to long."
I told Peter you were coming, the spot on the guestlist is secure...
So I'll be waiting with Langston, Billie, Ralph, James, Etta, and Duke.
Thanking them for the blueprint
Apologizing for the smudges
And stenciling a new tatoo of love
Hoping this time they won't turn it into a T-shirt,
Where the brand name is embedded into the bottom of your footwear,
Or securely fastened around my throat.
Double jeapordy of the heart...
I won't serve time for this crime...
Criminal minded but mindful that criminals were once innocent.
So in a sense...my wrong akin to right like
Days akin to night might stop....
Cause I lack the common sense to go on.

The Nightengale Sings

A nightengale perched atop the tallest and oldest tree in the Garden of Eden,
She then sang the most beautiful song her heart ever mustered and said,
"Fuck it! From now on I'ma cherp free verse
Till the earth spins reverse on axis.
And the people sing...
Nightengale...sing us a song,
Sing us your fears,
Sing us your tears,
Nightengale...sing us a love song!"
But there are no more love songs.
There is no love...
The nightengale watched love die when Adam bit into that fucking apple.
There has been no love since that day
Only cheap mascarade mask version we manifest
To appease our sense of longing for a feeling long deceased .
We charge the nightengale as a hieratic but praise Issaac Newton as a scholar?
They both charge us with the truth...it's your perspective which blinds you.
Blocks all of reality out so you only see what your astigmatic two eyes allow.
The nightengale chooses another path because we've left her no options..
Choosing an alternative path to express the her pain
Cause watching the most important feeling in the world wither away never to return
Has drove her mad!
How depressing it would be to see something foolishly satired and unwittingly depicted as love.
While you wine on like a scratched up Keith Sweat record...
"nightengale....sing us a song,
Sing us your fears,
Sing us your tears,
Nightengale....sing us a love song...
One last love song...
For our poor ears."
No nightengale!
No more love songs...the time for that has passed!
Keep spittin' this new found truth...
Keep living this lifestyle which maybe difficult for some to understand...
Your revolution will not be in vain!
Soon...they will forget the love song...
And maybe...just maybe once that happens,
Love can once again be reborn...
Be genuine....
Be pure...
And find you perched on the highest branch
In the tallest tree in the Garden of Eden,
Where you're smiling because you've changed the world...
And she finally understands and loves you the way you've loved her since time began.

Beauty

If Beyonce is the word said when asked,
What the embodiment of beauty is...
Then you are beyond say.
Let no word be spoken, created, or conjured
In the attempt to emulate what you are.
Am focused on you with daydreams of your scent.
Which you hide like a zebra's blank spaces.
Traces of your perfume
Soaked into miscellaneous fabrics in my room,
So I could be writing, laying on the carpet
And get lost in some moment where
We wrestled with our dichotomy
Evolving into a symbiotic eco-system.
Where you play the earth
And I play your minerals.
And we shine so bright together we shame the sun.

Gods, though the diets of deities we don't share.
We feed off each others aura like leeches.
Thriving to the plasma of your love,
Wiping my chin as it drips down my beard.
Where it will remain until your second cuming.
I want to exist on your wind pipe,
Vibrate on your vocal chords while you sing sweet songs of passion.
Lick your libido as if it were some long ice cream cone.
Have it melt and drown me as we coat your clitoris
And I eat my way to freedom.
Exiting your body on love potion 9.
You are my everlasting gob stopper,
That I extacize sucking on you
While I play jawbreaker.
Taking small steps toward a unknown magnetism.

Planet, I gravitate towards you
But keep a safe distance for fear of our heavenly bodies colliding.
Funny, you were supposed to my earth
That's why I orbit you like the moon.
Trying to stay away, but too caught up observing your beauty.
Now I know we've known of each other,
Run in the same circles
Spinning out of control, hoping to land on stability.
I really want to slow the rotation,
And allow our 360° to be all we need to stay warm.
Alas,
Just me speed racin' with thought.
Emotions on light speed, because...
Well...
You make me feel like breathing again.
See I was waiting to exhale,
Inhaling love until I refilled the holes in my chest and soul.
I like you...
As intense as a punch straight to the face.
Thank you for being.

Late

As I sit here looking at this screen
At the images of me and what I could be...
Thinking, maybe lost in what I should be
Or just lost...wondering how easy it would be to...
Try to figure out how the hell I reached white noise
From the reverb I once lived in...hmmm
Good question, and somewhere there's a lesson so I dig deeper,
Try to rescue these helpless ideas from the raging streams of thought,
That run rampant like children at play,
Unchaperoned...with no school on what should be a school day.
What I was is a glare in the life I have,
And what I have has no compare to what I've forfeited.
So for now I take things day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute,
Waiting for it all to make sense...but the feeling never returns.
Sometimes I wondered if it were ever really there.
I am so consumed in the preparation to execute life that it's hardly carried out.
I mean look at my track record,
I'm so scared that any woman might be the one,
That I find ways to enable them a path of which to run...
I'm so fuckin' dumb!
Trapped in the maze of my own insecurity
That's shaped like a figure eight with two foot walls.
But my depth perception is so damn off,
That I'm even scared to attempt to scale them.
My existance is so sad...
I refuse to take chances so I become a daredevil,
With a computer, PDA, pencil, pen, and a pad.
I'm losing myself....slipping through chasms of sanity
Like pennies through the small holes in the pockets of genes...I mean jeans.
I'm slowly but surely convincing the most important woman in my life,
That the only son she has left will not provide her with grandchildren...
And why...because she sees no future beyond me..
And how could she...it's not like I do.
Try not to think of this as a depressed memoir,
I'm just compressing my thoughts into a few lines...
Trying to find my own way to cope with the fact my only hope...
Comes from my art, my job, and the fact that for whatever reason..
I was put here for a purpose.
And everything I've experienced to this point was a part of some plan.
So just maybe the almighty creator and surveyor of everything that is,
That which we can explain and that which we cannot...
Could possibly be a head case too.
Maybe he second guessed a lot of the things he allowed us to be able to do..
Maybe he's thinking twice or three times about allowing another form of life to elevate
And be dominant, cause....eh....we're kinda fucking up right now.
If he created us in his own image was it just a physical representation or are querks
Hereditary.
But hey...who really gives a fuck!
More or less anyone reading has a 87.6% chance of not really believing in anything!
So my simple inquiries are just like my insecurities...
Words that are on a page and really mean nothing to anyone else but myself.
NO!! I am not a narcissist!
I'm neither that or a pesimist!
I'm just through traveling and allowing life to blow past me and just see the colors.
There are flowers and rainbows and blue skies,
And somewhere in the midst of it all something is dying....and that...is life.
Death.
The only real vindication of any action.
The concrete to every abstraction we like to portray as living.
I embrace growing older and wiser,
Even the fact that in the path that we move in as a people
They may very well not go hand in hand...
But I also realize that it all comes to an end....
So after 26 years of just living, I finally figured out that it's a waste to just live...
We have to do...something....anything to make a mark that it was not in vain...
So in that respect....I guess I'm late.

Brokn.Englsh Reverbnation Page!!!!

Check the New Widget!!!

Eternity

I'd like to swim through his bloodstream for one blissful moment.....I yearn to make his heart my humble abode.
I picture his spirit as my cavern...and I hide myself in his soul when fear chases me. His eyes tell me bedtime stories; he whispers sweet haikus in my ears takes me on cerebral vacations.
I delight myself in the richness of his masculinity: I am a part of who he is.
We are bound with spiritual clay & together we build our very own ETERNITY.


© Sherine Tatum

Be It All Or...

Be blessed knowing that meaning lies within the understanding
That understanding is just farce, nothing is to be understood.
The underlying meaning of sense and sensibility is concept,
That which is conceived is not to be judged, measured, or ruled.
Thought is to roam free, intuition is to be law and all that is creative,
Be given the license to evoke the spontaneous production of more creativity.
A general unwritten law of society dictates,

"We the people, widely brainwashed by Conglomerate America, do solemnly swear to overspend our underpaid wages in the pursuit of following suit. As promised, we will achieve life, liberty, and the pursuit of PlayStation 3!!"

Be it all true or not America is suffering,
We have money for war, money for athletes and entertainment,
Billion dollar companies in race for more profit and the education system is failing,
Plummeting are the dreamers, thinkers, shakers, movers, and observers.
Let's work at preserving thought because without it we have nought,
so be it all or....

I Feel Like....

I feel like...
Swan diving off of the Empire State Building for new chalk in the classroom.
Holding Congress at gunpoint for textbooks printed after 2000,
Stabbing Jay-Z cause he made 50's career,
Cutting up build boards advocating joining the armed services.
Putting George W. on trial for the murder of every Afghany child murdered in the war on terrorism,
Hanging a banner from the Statue of Liberty that says, "Sorry, but we are at capacity for Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. Please direct your huddled masses elsewhere."
Burning a copy of the Lattice method of multiplication on the entry way for MIT,
Spitting in the face of all the cops who walked away from the murder of Sean Bell,
Lying in a bed of dead roses,
Washing in holy water,
And air drying in the cavity of Love's ear.
Smelling Pine sol when I walk through the halls of my old project building
Hearing the sounds of silence at 1:00 A.M., apposed to that of resounding gunshots.
Touching the hearts of at least one 9-year-old, by playing "Umi Says"
Tasting the sweet victory of change
Seeing a new year end without the problems of an old

Stillness

in those moments....
those moments when your silence is so loud I can hear the echoes of
I...i...
Love...love...
You...you...
in the hollows of my chest.
Yes. I said I love you...in the perfect posture of connectivity,
My hands wrapped around your waste, breathing deeply against your kneck.
You sleep, ass arched into my pelvis, hand folded in mine.
I said those words....
You never heard them.
I committed to you...subconsciously and consciously,
I adored you in simulation to the tree that bends right toward the ray of sunshine.
Rooted...but yearning for the freedom of your nurturing light.
I was your canvas...
Paint on me your dream, I'd immortalize those images for as long as time allowed.
But...
My kisses went unfelt.
My words went unheard.
My professions of unrelenting love and passion for you,
Left shivering in a cold wet state of depression..
In the stillness...

Awaken

Today....
I am not a man...
I am merely a being in the likeness thereof,
Trying to see the world for the first time through unbiased eyes.

Today...
I am not Myk Dyaleks,
I am no incarnation of,
I am not rhyming to save myself and the countless millions who’ve forgotten,
I am not writing till the wee hours of the morning,
I am not listening to the same beat for 3 hours straight,

Today...
I am not Mr.G,
I am not going to frustrate myself wanting more than my students do from themselves,
I am just going to push the curriculum and not argue for their future.
I am not their savior, I shall not be crucified.

Today...
I will still be the only son she has left,
I will not tolerate anymore guilt for the relationship we don’t have.
I will not stand idly by and listen to endless bullshit of why that is my fault..
I will be the person I am, grow, and become a better person than i was.

Today...
There’s only now.
There’s only this.
I refuse to regret a minute of my life,
For the acceptance of that is the admittance of time wasted.
I will waste none of my short visit on this beautiful rock.

Today...
I will be a better me, than I was yesterday...
If these lids ever roll back...

Travelin' Man

I crawl.
Not sure enough of my own will to stand.
Not sure enough of what lies inches ahead of me.
Restless because dormancy is no more an option.
Curious cause with every moment life moves so much closer,
That I can almost reach out and touch it.

I walk.
With each stride, I am more confident of the person I can become.
Freedom is in every motion.
Will is in the strength to stand and accept that freedom.
Steady that with every step forward I move away from the past,
And one step closer to the future.

I run.
Exploding into the unknown.
Because the world is too vast for me to reach in time if I walk.
Because the collage of experiences should whip against my face in the wind.
Through the changes and obstacles life has thrown at me,
Cause they can only trip you up if you are slowing down.

I walk.
Too tired of running away from situations.
Muscles tense from years of pushing too hard.
Moral low from having so many dreams deterred.
Eyes weary from the blur of color,
Ready to distinguish the lessons learned from those that were not.

I crawl.
Too feeble to stand on my own.
Too ashamed to ask for help from a friend.
Not yet ready for whatever is past that finish line.
Realizing that in the time it took to read this poem,
Everything can all come to an end.

She

I fucked up...
I wasn't supposed to be here.
You were not supposed to invite me to apartment,
Strip, and begin slowly licking me like I was the last strawberry eclair on earth.
Wait...
We weren't supposed to be on that date.
I wasn't supposed to get bored waiting,
You shouldn't have been bating me with your size too small boy shorts and tank top.
Stop...
I should've waited till she came home.
I could have been in my own place,
Wasting the moments till she returned from work.
No...
I was tired of looking at my four walls.
Tired of checking my cell for missed calls that were really never missed,
Pissed I rose from bed, dressed and headed to your abode.
Don't...
Lay here at her doorstep waiting for her return.
I told myself, words falling on bleeding ears,
I heard her tears and knocked on the door.
Leave...
She replied, I sighed knowing that I was going nowhere.
She answered the door, we conversed, we left and got a bite to eat.
She left me no room to speak taking me as if I were the woman and she the man.
And it wasn't her final quaking scream of extacy that I saw you staring at
Me...