I’m so cold, numb, and descending to a place which I have known to fear,
A place with decaying flesh, and tormented cry’s my eyes could hear,
The smell, it is as if my body has been decomposing for years,
My words are un-heard, and I have no more tears,
This feeling it sneaks up on me,
As I bathe in visions from the past,
My black heart, held feelings that didn’t last,
My body feels heavy; my breathing is no longer steady,
For what comes next I’m not ready,
My eyes wonder and find their way to my wrist,
Blood is still dripping from the slit,
My lounges are collapsed so how can I still breathe,
Maybe because I search for what I still need,
Where am I, I ask myself over and over,
For I feel this feeling isn’t over,
As my thoughts cut through air,
I remember there was nothing there,
Nothing is here anymore just emptiness,
A black hole filled with rage, anger, lies and pity ness,
I’m hearing voices, voices in the back of my head,
Could I be…dead…?
Yes, Dead to the world, forced to roam the plains of curiosity,
What happened to me?
This isn’t how it used to be,
I enter a chamber, and moans of agony fill the room,
I smell death and impending doom,
I try to run but my feet are nailed to the path, in which I stand,
A dark figure arises with the shape of a man,
I dive into a sear of lies,
Filled with pleas and cries,
As I desperately fight for my life,
I see something dark, something so dark it is light,
I rise to my feet and I am faced with a deadly sin…Lust,
As I try to run, I keep saying I must,
Give in to the satisfaction of defeat
Love is what my soul needs to eat,
I must escape my feelings, the prison of betrayal and fear,
But laughter is all that I hear,
I slowly rip apart my eyelids which seem to be sewn together,
For what I am now seeing isn’t what I want to see forever,
My ears twitch as I hear the movement of chains,
My body is slowly hoisted into the air by the hooks in my tendons and neck,
As my soul is left to watch what remains,
What used to be mine’s is now gone,
One can only ask what I did wrong,
I turn to come face to face with Him,
As the room darkens and becomes grim,
This feeling…what is it, I can’t seem to shake it,
My mind tells me to face it,
Just as I am about to speak,
I awake…in my bed
Sweat in my sheets and all over my head,
Someone tell me please…what is this feeling…
Friday, March 20, 2009
Chi-City
Just this past weekend I took a trip to The Windy City a.k.a. Chicago, IL. I have discovered that Chicago is a beautiful city filled with art museums, clubs, taxis, and plenty of things to do. However, with all the buildings and activities that are present the city is far from perfect. Although parts of the city are beautiful, trash is almost guaranteed from corner to corner. Upon my departure from the city that seems to never sleep, I must say I enjoyed myself and I have found three things that intrigued me; transportation, the people, and the buildings.
The transportation in Chicago is vast ranging from taxis to subways, from buses to walking for your own personal pleasure but I recommend taking the train above ground if you want to avoid the hectic rush. I realize the subways are normally dark, and if you smell hard enough you can detect a lingering smell of liquor or garbage. Also, it seems that every taxi in the city is different; they range from yellow to white, and vans to cars. Each night, Michigan Avenue is filled with people, and activities to partake in to those passing as they walk by observing. If you decide to walk in the city, I suggest you walk with a group of friends or at least another person after dark since there are gangs that are rumored to be present.
While walking through the Windy City, expect to turn down pleads for change from the occasional pan handler, or expect to be bumped by someone on a crowed street without an apology. Around 5:00pm if you walk through the federal district, you most likely will run into an army of work tired zombies leaving the office. The ‘suits’ as they are called all seem to be in unison as they walk with their Bluetooth earpiece in, or phones to their ear. Nighttime is when things get good in the inner city, dozens of people pour into fine dining restaurants and jazz clubs. I watched as couples sneaked away from the work week to hit the movie theaters to catch the latest movie released. The Club doors open to ages 18 and up and you can see the women in the line waiting in anticipation. Dressed in slim black dresses, accessorized with shiny bracelets and earrings, the entourages of ladies wait to enter the club with the DJ’s voice carrying outside.
The buildings in the inner city are all magnificent and vary in sizes. The Sears Tower is a natural tourist attraction, which provides a five to ten mile view of the rest of the city. I observed a father as he picked his daughter up and placed her over his shoulders so she could share the experience with the rest of us as we glanced over south Chicago. Of course there were buildings under construction, as well as other buildings that were covered with graffiti on the inside throughout the halls, and fire exits. The apartment building we stayed in was completely remodeled from the luxurious suites to the heated pool, and was blessed with a top notch security guard in the lobby. If you are lucky enough to stay in a room high enough and facing the direction towards downtown, you might see a beautiful burnt orange and passion red sunset glowing off of the Trump Towers downtown.
The city of Chicago—this is where I stayed twenty three stories above the ambulance sirens, and noise of the cars whizzing by. Chicago—where I realized that no city is perfect but holds it own beauty. As I loaded onto the bus to return back home, I felt as if I were leaving a part of me behind that would await for my return to ‘The Windy City’. A smile made its way to my face, and I waved…goodbye.
The transportation in Chicago is vast ranging from taxis to subways, from buses to walking for your own personal pleasure but I recommend taking the train above ground if you want to avoid the hectic rush. I realize the subways are normally dark, and if you smell hard enough you can detect a lingering smell of liquor or garbage. Also, it seems that every taxi in the city is different; they range from yellow to white, and vans to cars. Each night, Michigan Avenue is filled with people, and activities to partake in to those passing as they walk by observing. If you decide to walk in the city, I suggest you walk with a group of friends or at least another person after dark since there are gangs that are rumored to be present.
While walking through the Windy City, expect to turn down pleads for change from the occasional pan handler, or expect to be bumped by someone on a crowed street without an apology. Around 5:00pm if you walk through the federal district, you most likely will run into an army of work tired zombies leaving the office. The ‘suits’ as they are called all seem to be in unison as they walk with their Bluetooth earpiece in, or phones to their ear. Nighttime is when things get good in the inner city, dozens of people pour into fine dining restaurants and jazz clubs. I watched as couples sneaked away from the work week to hit the movie theaters to catch the latest movie released. The Club doors open to ages 18 and up and you can see the women in the line waiting in anticipation. Dressed in slim black dresses, accessorized with shiny bracelets and earrings, the entourages of ladies wait to enter the club with the DJ’s voice carrying outside.
The buildings in the inner city are all magnificent and vary in sizes. The Sears Tower is a natural tourist attraction, which provides a five to ten mile view of the rest of the city. I observed a father as he picked his daughter up and placed her over his shoulders so she could share the experience with the rest of us as we glanced over south Chicago. Of course there were buildings under construction, as well as other buildings that were covered with graffiti on the inside throughout the halls, and fire exits. The apartment building we stayed in was completely remodeled from the luxurious suites to the heated pool, and was blessed with a top notch security guard in the lobby. If you are lucky enough to stay in a room high enough and facing the direction towards downtown, you might see a beautiful burnt orange and passion red sunset glowing off of the Trump Towers downtown.
The city of Chicago—this is where I stayed twenty three stories above the ambulance sirens, and noise of the cars whizzing by. Chicago—where I realized that no city is perfect but holds it own beauty. As I loaded onto the bus to return back home, I felt as if I were leaving a part of me behind that would await for my return to ‘The Windy City’. A smile made its way to my face, and I waved…goodbye.
Monday, February 16, 2009
What If
If I could run away, and never see this life again...the sands would forever remember my foot prints...
If I could have everything I wished for, tears wouldn’t exist, nor would pain...
If I could understand the reason behind half the things I’ve repeatedly done. They would cease...
If heaven were a mile away from where I stood; Hell couldn’t hold me back...
If my writing were to stop this very day, I would most likely go crazy.
Well...I keep writing, and I keep running. I keep making mistakes, tears still fall and I can still feel pain. Those foot prints aren’t visible, and the days of my life seem redundant. I walk amongst thieves of happiness, which deprive me of the satisfaction of things accomplished.
Why do I feel like tomorrow will be the same? Am I stuck in this place stagnant...progressing the wrong way? Why do I feel the way I do. You see, your touch enlightens my soul, but yours lies have glued back the pieces of my broken heart which makes it leery. Indifference defines how I feel as if I am seen in your eyes. My body and my mind aren’t there with you, but baby you have soul and heart.You can stroke my hopes and extinguish my dreams, but release me from your talons for they dig deep into my very being. My pen seems to write in an invisible ink to you, but how come everyone can read the words? I wonder what if. What if we were better...what if we tried harder...what if we gave up...tell me don’t you wonder? What if?
If I could have everything I wished for, tears wouldn’t exist, nor would pain...
If I could understand the reason behind half the things I’ve repeatedly done. They would cease...
If heaven were a mile away from where I stood; Hell couldn’t hold me back...
If my writing were to stop this very day, I would most likely go crazy.
Well...I keep writing, and I keep running. I keep making mistakes, tears still fall and I can still feel pain. Those foot prints aren’t visible, and the days of my life seem redundant. I walk amongst thieves of happiness, which deprive me of the satisfaction of things accomplished.
Why do I feel like tomorrow will be the same? Am I stuck in this place stagnant...progressing the wrong way? Why do I feel the way I do. You see, your touch enlightens my soul, but yours lies have glued back the pieces of my broken heart which makes it leery. Indifference defines how I feel as if I am seen in your eyes. My body and my mind aren’t there with you, but baby you have soul and heart.You can stroke my hopes and extinguish my dreams, but release me from your talons for they dig deep into my very being. My pen seems to write in an invisible ink to you, but how come everyone can read the words? I wonder what if. What if we were better...what if we tried harder...what if we gave up...tell me don’t you wonder? What if?
Friday, February 13, 2009
Lifetime Trails 2
Time seems to come to a screeching half today, as the controversies at work splatter red paint upon my flawless canvas I have yet to finish. As the result of some unexplained phenomenon, the sun today isn’t as bright as it was a year ago, driving the Cadillac isn’t as appealing as it was a year ago, the tears that roll down my face, and fall unto the wooden color planks most would call work slacks soak in effortlessly and disappear with out so much as a trace. The struggle to be a strong black individual is becoming more of a challenge with everyday that passes. Subconsciously it makes me stronger person as my emotions become increasingly empathetic to those deemed to be pessimistic acquaintances. My friend told me, that the negativity in this world had become so dominant, that being positive is frowned upon as being an outcast or a rebel. Eventually I will be victorious in my conquest for happiness, greatness, and self recognition and it will all be within my grasp. Its not that I need recognition from other’s but the satisfaction from myself. I am a strong black male that’s doing something with his life, other than selling drugs, robbing, killing, and becoming the next place man added to the welfare statistic list. So I surround myself with positive friends, as we brush against the grain on the back hairs of today’s society, to reach a common goal of greatness. Subsequently today’s trails try to keep my submerged, but Im still a breath of fresh air, in the bubble of oxygen that keeps me stainless in today’s pollutant society. Slowly reaching the surface; Going at it the hard way…
Monday, February 9, 2009
Lifetime Trial's 1
Everyday is like a trail; or so it seems. I often would wonder how things so simple could be so complex at the same time. I find myself, desperately searching for that special someone to call my own, but it always seems to end up in failure. My friends are becoming nothing but pessimistic observer's to my life's mishaps, kids seem to speak down in a condescending manner, and my father and I aren't what you would call seeing eye-to-eye. Things just can't get any worse huh? You see everyday is like a trail to me, and I skeptically accept the challenges. However, my failures in the past have become today's greatest rewards. I have become a vigorous individual, but often depression will run its course through my veins, and I will lose sight of my goals and accomplishments. Leeringly I cling to the girl closest to me, for I don't have a mother to share that bond with. Everyday that I awake, I am constantly faced with walls and barriers which seem impenetrable, and I become un-aware of the path that leads un-effortlessly around the wall; I become headstrong and proceed with the process of dissipating these boundaries. After countless attempts, I am left stagnant with a look of dissatisfaction, as the wall still remains in tact. Turning around is impossible because my pride won't allow me to make that judgement, so again this wall or boundary, no this limitation becomes yet another trial to surpass...I'm going at it the hard way...
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