rapid cycling

 

energy ebbs and flows like the tides

tugged by the rise of the moon

shaped by deeds

destroyed by words

created a moment too soon

round and around it goes

driven like a trashed dirty spare

gliding upwards,

flailing downwards

coasting through still night-time air

faster and faster it builds

swirling, lungs and legs tire alike

momentum breeds in time

manic and sublime

feels as easy as riding a bike.

.

Family Tree

It all rushed back when I touched your scalp

the scar, raised skin light

against your pitch black hair.

Memories laying, hiding in an afro,

the past silenced by twelve stitches.

He should have just walked away

the way you chose to, 

but his ego could not be bruised and

he could not be opposed.

She stood as if planted

at the top of the stairs, 

and watched the confrontation unfolding below,

unwilling to intervene, 

as the two most important men in her life, 

identical ire flaring

clashed in the street,

over unwashed dishes, sleeping late, and an unmade bed. 

I ran down the street hoping to stop him,

but my cries and pleas were ignored.

Stinging hurt flowed crimson, staining your shirt,

and your brow, damp from the summer heat

wrinkled tight, defied by your dry eyes.

A rugged branch lay at your feet, spent,

its bark moist, and the essence of my family

was absorbed by the earth,

never to be seen again.

inspired by Scot’s writing challenge…

engaged

The more time we spend

Together the farther apart

We become

A pair cast asunder

Our love and dreams

Blossom in a murky mire

Of what we hoped

Would be

A future

Devoid of loneliness.

Hi…

Hi Scot

Thanks for pushing me dude.

I’ve had a rough coupla months. I’ve been taking classes, work has been indescribable. Things have been so/so for me. Hence no posts. Finals are here, I am almost finished with the semester, so I should have some more time to write. I am actually looking forward to it. I did not take any writing classes this semester, so my drive went right out the window. Plus little time. Oh, and my warcraft addiction. LOL. But I digress.

The poem below is something I put together,

-One because I’m reading TsiTsi Dangarembga’s book “Nervous Conditions,” which tells the story of a young girl in Rhodesia who faces some daunting challenges as she gets older

-And Two because I have taken a keen interest in African history, culture, and tradition in the last couple of months.

I have done some studies, and tons of reading and might actually be going to West Africa this summer.  So its on the mind and as a result comes out in my writing.

This piece is the first thing I’ve written in months, so be gentle.

I think im gonna rework some of my older pieces, or add to them, to develop them into longer works, as I have neglected to do so for some time. Additionally, I hope I get the motivation and drive back that I had last year at this time. Who knows where it went.

Hope to hear from my blog friends out there soon.

CruxandFlux

une nouvelle épouse africaine

A heady musk mingles with the brisk evening air

While hushed voices rumble and dark rimmed eyes stare

Cold jigida beads jingle, loose on a fertile, nubile waist

And a gentle breeze blows wantonly in the dusty market place

She walks slowly to meet him, lids low, as the dusk greets the eager night

Beckoning he smiles, she shudders, veils and tears impeding her sight

Supple satin and silks struggle to showcase her child-like frame

And from this moment onwards she knows she will never be the same

Under a bright new moon she kneels, weary as her new life quickly begins

And beside her he prays silently, as they are blessed of their sins

Later that night she cries broken, as their tight bond is cast

And then she lays spent, exposed, hoping this too will pass

Who knows if he stole her innocence or if she has been changed forever?

Or if tradition and culture has shattered her dreams?

And who knows what the future may hold, if she would sell her soul,

To return to a life that teems,

With frivolity and faith, with gaiety and promise for a reality that is fair,

That would give her a reason to wake everyday, to hope and to pray, and the will and drive to care.

Hey there

I know I promised a while ago to post some more but I’ve been so overwhelmed with life lately. But, I got invited to showcase some of my work at a poetry slam on the 3rd of December so I am going to try to get some stuff on here for you guys to critique. Scot, thanks for checking up on me. I won’t let you guys down this time.

C&F

I’m back!

After a long vacay, i’ll start posting soon again

Hey guys! The fog is clearing!

 

I’ve taken a long break from this blog the last couple of weeks I know. Alot has happened in my personal life. I moved out of my apartment, which was a big source of stress for me, and I’m about to head out of town on a much needed vacation (which is good). I’ll post pics when I get back and hopefully the de-stressing process will allow me to get my mind straightened out. And hopefully ill get back on the horse and start writing and posting again regularly. 

Check back for pics, and for posts. I hope all of you are doing well.

CruxandFlux

Broken.

 

 

You used to brush the dirt off of my knees when I fell, and gave me advice about boys, telling me to concentrate on school and not to get pregnant.

I would laugh when you would dodge and weave along with the boxers on our small black and white, so filled with energy you were.

Now you call to fill my ears with familial delusions, to complain about aches and pains, or you sit silent, stoic.

I idealized you, and placed you on a pedestal that no hu-man could realistically possess.

No one compared. Until.

What a mistake to make. The fallout has been catastrophic, our bond almost severed by severe missed-deeds.

I thought I knew you, but we now live like strangers, sharing blood tainted by twisted truths and venomous lies.

What is real I do not know. Reality has left our world.

My memories fool me, they are now fizzled abstract pictures in my mind.

I want to believe that they are real.

I struggle to dredge up the “perfect” past, hoping to recreate those times, but only end up making confusion out of the present, and I stumble drunk on to the path of a fake future. 

You. My rock, my foundation, the one I could rely on for stability, has been smashed by life, dragged back to earth, revealed for what you really are.

A failure? 

No.

Just a broken man.

Lost in Space

 

 

The phone rings.

She is missing, and no one knows where she is.

Anxiety builds, tension mounts, thoughts soar through the brain like a wounded dove.

Where could she be? This behavior is totally unlike her.

Hours pass by, as if they are only minutes, and still the questions that haunt remain unanswered.

As if no one cares.

The phone rings again. 

There is hesitation to pick it up, because the caller is unknown.

On ring number four the phone is answered, breath caught in a tightened throat.

The voice is recognizable, a sigh of relief is released, and vows are made to make things right.

Even though the steps that need to be taken are really beyond anyone’s control

What do you do when you are stuck in the middle?

When your allegiance is called into question.

What do you do when the world seems to cave in around you?

Yet you are expected to act as if undamaged?

What do you do when your identity is stolen?

And no one seems to realize that your soul has been broken?

What do you do when the person missing is you?