Last night I dreamt a dream of all things we need the most.
From the sunshine from the Pacific to the Atlantic Coast s
The rain from Maine all the way down to New Orleans and the answers remind the same.
Last night in slumber my spirit took flight and sail the skies wrapped in darkness finally bathing in light.
I took refuse the mountains of God as I contemplating the questions of life both simple and odd.
Last night I wondered about the rain how it pours down as sweet as sugar cane
I see the people blaspheme its presents and it present as something defamed.
Son of man all things come by my hand each particle of soil that covers the land.
Each drop of water that falls down, each current of wave that goes around, all is a part of my grand plan.
Sometime the things we need the most are the things we try to choke.
Whether it be the weather or the things we need to strive we sometimes hurt the things that need to truly be alive.

Death to Hearts

Here's a Death threat to the Royal Hearts
Just a day before loves anniversary my soul morns and spirit snaps
My eyes are filled with evil thoughts about the Hearts I’m about to kidnap.
I will grab the Ace with all my might and punch and brake his tapered face.
A feeling of zing came over me as I track that Heart of King.
For him I have a special death for all the heartache and regret.
The King I will hang out to dry like my desires
The King I will gladly set on fire.
I know you say that I am mean but with pleasure I’ll seek the Queen.
She sits as pretty as can be smelling of perfumes living in luxury.
The Queen of Hearts I use to bow now I will slaughter you like a dim-witted cow.
I watched her die then I wipe my axe I am off to find the pompous Jack.
For the Jack I’ll not relax for in him l’ll insert a million tacks.
He said so many promises to me but in the end delivery nothing but misery.
With the royals gone I still feel ruthless then over head I saw Cupid.
I throw a stone and knock down Cupid stab him with his own arrows for being stupid.
All those spears you sent for me could you’ve sent love with security, stability, and loyalty.
So with the death of the Royal Hearts and that chubby Cupid and with satisfaction all mine.
I wish you all a Happy Valentine’s

Now

The clock on the wall is only as accurate as the present moment it's in. The second pass gone the moment before and the future just one trick away. Even though I live in this moment I anticipate moments to come and sometimes I moan for the moments pass.
Time is only real in the flesh; in spirit everything has, is and will happens at the same time so that moment is eternal
I embrace the now and just the now. Yesterday or a moment pass does not exist only now. Tomorrow or an hour from now is not real only my now.
I give myself totally over to the living now, the present now, the touching now and the feeling now. I wear the now like an ever changing beautiful garment. I let time take care of time because I only have power in the present now a magical moment that exist for a brief time then it is gone.
I celebrate me and you now because a moment pass is gone and the time ahead is not promised. Will you kiss me now, hold me now, soil me now, love me now. Just promise me love always in the now. Love me like no other now. Let me enjoy this now my now.

Self-Help 101

Plantations to Palaces

I heard the ancestors finally drop their bags of sugarcane and cotton.
I see them walking in from the fields fingernails dirty and hair uncombed.
They whisper to one another in broken English but elegant tongue and sing a song of freedom.
I see the ancestors jump and dance their uncovered backs sways with the rhythm of a new day.
Scars no long covered in shame but worn proudly as marks of endurance
We were cast down, cracked but never broken.
I see the ancestors washing in river that flowed with blood now a new current that brings clean water.
I see the old babies sucking on dry tits that leak with a nectar as sweet as honey.
I see the outhouse now vacant.
I see the backdoors only use for exits. I see the ancestors step their muddy feet in the front door.
OH; the drams beat with a joy that was only heard in the old country, the mother country the other country.
I see the plantation no longer growing cotton but I see seeds of hope. I see the red soil growing love. I see the ancestors picking a new future. I heard the songs of freedom carried on the winds of change over the wide open sea back to the free brothers and sisters on the other side.
They sing;
“Mama, Papa we made it safe, it was not a home as warm as yours but we made it safe. Mama Papa the sun did set and we lost so many children along the way but we made it safe. Mama Papa your children no long walk in chains, in shame but not we wear gold now. Mama Papa we went from Plantations to Palaces and now we can say we have found home. Obama.

Sweat

As I step over your crumpled up shirt that lies disorderly on the flood I am enticed.

I can still see the little wet stain where your armpit rested. I bend contemplatively and pick it up.

Shaking it out as if I am trying to remove some unwanted dirt from the light blue fabric ; then I get a whiff of it; your sweat.

It smells sweet and earthy its fibers have captured your entire essence. How I envy its ability to hold on to you even when I have to let you go. Hailing deeper and deeper until I think I might suffocate myself.

Your sweat tells the story of blackness, brownness, character and of grace.

Your sweat tells me you work hard.

Your sweat makes me desire you, to feel your fingertips dance across my back.

You sweat takes me from an earthy place to a place of ecstasy.

I am no longer standing in my bedroom. I am now running through the jungles.

I am being chased by a beast that wants to devour my body.

I slow my pace after awhile because I want to be devoured. I smell the syrupiness of your skin.

I feel the warmth of your breathe on my neck and my pecks rise and falls as you kiss my neck. YES!!!

I smell your sweat saltiness on my skin. I smell it in hair of my mustache.

I smell your unique God given fragrance. I smell nature pure in each sniff.

You arouse me without even touching me. I am back in my room now with that shirt so tightly held to my nose hailing all of your sweat. Then I see your underwear …

Seven poundS

What would I give of myself that someone else can live? What I am willing to lose so that another may find? Where am I willing to stay so that someone else can advance? The truth is deep down inside not every much at all. We love those who loves us but is that real or it just a balance of love given and love taken? Truly we are nothing more than parasites of love. We love those that can offer us something; an unspoken barter that is life long.

What am I willing to give and expect absolutely nothing in return? Am I willing to feed the hungry in the shadows where no prising eyes see? Am I willing to offer a safe haven to a soul that is down or will I just turn away?
The truth is we/I am harden too concern with that happens of my self-important life to notice that there are more than myself that suffer far greater than me. Those who have far less than me, who sleep in the cold, who go hungry and who have no one to tell them that they are loved. Someone to say, " you matter" and " I care about you".

What am I really willing to give up and would it be worth "seven pounds"?

Seven