When I write

      Lately, the poetry I write is merely a dream about to happen. Sankofa. The art of story telling and the effective use of metaphor, personification, and maybe even alliteration makes a moment seem bigger than it ever was. Not to be confused with exaggeration. More like becoming one with every detail pertaining to the moment in which life itself changes.

We all know what prose is.

I write to make the crooked straight.
There are parts in my mind that seem so fluffy
and smooth like clean linen on a spring afternoon,
but there are other portions of sanity that is rough.
Contorted and bent around its edges with downcast of
gray and black shadows highlighting my faults.

I write to let loose of the pain lodged around
throats arms once clogged in fear.
In fear, desperation and frustration words
become too powerful to stick to the logical
vortex of serenity.
Manhood becomes tested in ways fire desires to burn
down righteous beings.
The likeness of a decaying spirit by the sword of vengeance
prevails much stronger than I,
but I am just a girl.

A girl too misguided in a world of illusions.

In this world where two or three become gathered
in the precious name of the Most High
peace becomes present.
In a world where social status is linear to financial freedom
I must ask what is your soul worth?

I write because even when actions outweigh the only parts
that sing hymns of spiritual healing in octaves greater than
angels sounding shofars,
Even when I think my very next decision is to be the most
fruitful, interceding, controversial, magnetic, sound and full
of life, even I fall beneath the radar sometimes.

iWrite because I know there is something holding me near
and dear to the throne of righteousness.
She sings, proclaims and defeats all evil with words of
power.

I AM LIGHT

Peace

Dear Diary,
   
       I made it. After all the tears, neglect, rejection and a bottomless pit of emotions I can sit alone in my peace and finally breathe without interruption. I saw him the other day with her and I wasn't afraid nor ashamed to share the same air. This time there was no awkward moments or random feelings of loneliness. There was no longing of 'what if forever tattooed our names in the bosom of stars' upon exchanging smiles in our short embrace, no. There was none of that.
   I remember waiting for this moment and fearing it would never come. My fear of finally getting over had all to do with recognizing my worth. Replacing those tears with something real even if it was temporary took time; patience. Something I lacked. Though everyday I found something to smile about. Likewise, found lyrics of all kinds to speak the emotions I couldn't place into words. I listened to melodies that would make me cry the hardest, the deepest, just to blame misfortunes on someone besides myself.
   I was selfish. And maybe we all are after a tough breakup but I learned a long time ago that forgiveness stretches far beyond the ears of "I'm sorry." It's heard but rarely accepted.
    I'm having trouble burying the memories we share. Perhaps its human nature to wonder if I ever cross your mind.. But to be honest, peering through foggy binoculars at a memory is more distracting than driving through a thunderstorm.
   I love you and I'm forever grateful for all you've introduced to me. I'm stronger now. More aware and humbled by our experience. Someone spoke of your name a few weeks ago. I awed at the sound as if it were a new word meeting my vocabulary.
   The irony is that sometimes it is your name I whisper in my prayers before I lay to rest...
The more I think about it, seeing you was refreshing. You're awesome dude. And so is she.

I'm happy and FINALLY at peace.
With Love,
Para*

Indy's The Craft

Come on out this Thursday to K'Mia's event, The Craft for an awesome evening of poetry, music and good vibes.

B.YOND MUSIC FEATURE!

Come on out 4/27 as we wrap up National Poetry Month, at Different Peace of Mind. The attire is grown and sexy and you don't want to miss the sounds of Bashiri Asad!!

Justus

Not totally sure how real love should be before two worlds collide,
Before smoke rings float in the sky as messengers to undying questions like,
Is he really the one for me?
Are we absolutely meant for each other?
But one thing i know for sure,
without him i am incomplete.
Men throw themselves at my feet as if they're made of pearls.
Offer to wine and dine like Im suppose to feel righteous.
Its just something about him..
But letting go of fears and listening to what i feel is the best thing
Will probably take away all my anxiety.
Someone who seems to be my complete opposite is madly in love with me.
A man who is willing to look past my petty ways,
Take time out of his life and wait on my arrival at the door of motherhood..
I have found myself in love.
For real this time.
Not by the idea of someone being there.
Not with an instrument I could be possessive with.
Not even with someone perfect.
The flaws of one becomes irrelevant when the love is real.
I pray for a long life that's peaceful.
Joyful.
Hallelujah.
Prosperous.
And loving with my future husband.

Just Being Honest (4/5)

We were resting in peace long before we knew death would reach us.
Playing double dutch with snake skin bullets wrapped around a golden double head sword,
We swore we would see infinity.
Laced in love as if petals were our new homes,
We ignored the time it took to be armed.
Staying strapped meant more than magnums.
Staying strapped was synonymous with 45 calibers made for the desert,
For we were ready for the long haul.
We walked hand in hand through life as if our journey harmonized with each others.
And for the most part it did.
When falling for one another meant eating bullets for the hell of it,
We indulged.

Fourth Tier in April

For every tear she cries
He stuffs flower petals into his back pocket for safe keeping.
Depending how severe they're last argument had been
He'll save some in the purse
she'll wear in the morning.
He says he's sorry.
Rewrites vows of undying love in simpler phrases for her to understand even through the thick of her tears.
Yet even when her hair becomes fragile through the years of stress,
He still finds her beautiful.
Thinking back to the days of old when  wrinkles didn't accompany her smile,
Back when bags were accessories through the globe she travelled around,
He still plans to unpack her eyes when the world grows to big for her to imagine.
He just wants her trust.
He's attempted to make love to her without the sight of lust,
But her hips have grown so wide.
Her lips make perfect mountains when dressed in colors of the sky.
Her cheekbones naturally blush
Making the brim of her nose seem so rounded in its small size.
He's tried one too many times to make love to her mind,
But memories of her from elementary,
To junior high,
And all through high school
Replay like the winning touchdown he made as a Senior.
The love he has for her keeps him high.
Like fine wine she hadn't aged a bit.
And if those subtle reminders of why she said I Do
Ever decide to cloud his vision,
Each pocket full of posies should steer him back to forgiveness.
Bring him back to where it all began,
Watching her pull apart a rose in hopes of finding love again.
He loves, he loves me not...
He loves ME,
Instead of other women.

Third of April

I've made it this far.
Trekked through the wilderness
Without being scorched by the sun
Or a foot full of blisters
But Mister,
Please tell me why you proceed to rub my feet
And whisper silent verses of strength
You think I need -Im tired.
Not from the journey because there's more up ahead
I'm more exhausted at your attempts to carry me instead.
When all I had was my bucket of dreams poured from tears
I let you be the pipe to secure the well.
And well
When it all falls down..
The final result of us not ending well was a post dated check
From your flight written in heartbroken farewells.
Did you show me what love was
Or did we dance in circles around our emotions saturated with sex?
Was love really our best answer to nights of dumb arguments?
Something had to give
And from me there was nothing more
My sanity was bleeding and seeping through my pores.
If there was love it disappeared silently through the back door
Didn't wave goodbye or promise to return..

April Second

Ain't no love in these streets,
That's why the brokest mfs even able to beef.
Stir the drama with Sweets
Add some coke for the tweak
A couple O's for bros cuz they love to sip lean.
Don't forget about the joes and thots in between,
Every pound broken down ain't meant to be seen.
Every knot from a King ain't shared with a Queen
Respect is earned not a given,
And that's word from the Gs.
Pray for people that you hate
That's apart of the code
DTN across my neck -- Don't trust a mf soul.
If so you'll die old in a young ass body,
Destroy the mind of boy and he'll keep that logic.
Hold it dear to his heart until he rests in peace
Cuz hatin' comes cheap
Ain't no love in these streets.
But that's apart of the recipe
Cooked from Lucifer's looseleaf
'Tween a pallet of gun fire and
Silhouette smoke screens.
With a trojan man horse scene
Whose the last of a dyin' breed,
Spent his last on bad bitch
Who was really a wet fiend.
A PCP angel head but the halo was missing,
She been down since day one,
'Fore retro Jordans and Max B.
Back when stashing was Nike boxes and Filas matching.
Back when passionately rappin' was real shit no acting,
And mugs rocked with the beat
Kangol hats and goatees
But if you sold that white
No word from a G.
Peace.

April First

No matter the weather peace of mind dwells on the inside.
Months of cold criticisms from Mr Frost
I heard his bark is harsher than its Bite.
But its awright because the pain won't last
Lonely nights and solemn days will soon dwell in the past
like memories of your first snow angel.
Winter can fool you into thinking its warmer than it seems
With the sun shining bright and slight cool breeze
So much peace you'd forget your coat.
Leave the house in slippers
Just to catch a flu.
Don't play the fool in April.
Be mindful of the showers to come.
Clean your house.
Neuter or spay your cat -
whichever comes first.
And live righteous.
Live free.
In April.