There once was a kid who had nowhere to go. He had a whole lot of mouth but nothing to show. So he went to streets and started walking around with heat. Hustled on other niggas corners so he was always in some beef. But shorty had potential that kept deeply buried, he was tired of running the streets and making his mom worry. He wanted to be star but he was too scared to mention, he was smartest kid in class but he stayed in detention. He wasn’t all the bad he just needed some attention, couldn’t go see his dad so instead he climbing fences.Every night he would go home and write down his dreams and imagine how life was behind the big screen. Thinking of way that he could grind is way out, all the pain from the past made him want to scream and shout. Before he’d go to sleep at night he’d pray to above, everybody saw trouble but he really needed love.
Who will love this man?
A question I sometimes ask myself at night while alone listening to music and feeding to my oral fixation with a cigar I purchased from an Asian restaurant.
Deep thoughts circle in my mind. Some so dark that I immediately pray they never escape my mind. Others so enlightening that I fear ill be crucified if I ever form words to express them.
You see, I’m afraid of myself. My essence and my power make me feel like I’m the Sun; beautiful to look at but too dangerous to get close to.
My clairvoyant persona something I sometimes wish I could hide but like the sun surrounded by clouds its only a matter of time before the light on the other side peaks through again.
As I begin to regain focus my vision clears and I recognized my path, filled lighted and truth.
Yet some nights I still find myself asking:
“Who will love this man?”
Who will be brave enough to love the man who holds the power to either heal or destroy the world?
HE, he will love Self; for his survival in this dimension rest upon this defining decision.
What if Jesus didn’t rise on the third day and forgive those who had portrayed him?
What if came back in all black with guns ready to spray em?
What if he rose from the dead in his hospital bed?
And decided that whoever set him up was dead
Plus everyone at the last supper had to died too
he aint know who to trust when he rose from that tomb
So he called his henchmen, Gabriel was in the front
horsemen treading, equipped with the pumps
No Arc this time because everybody had to go
Since when he offered to save them they told him no
What if he smiled in delight as they were slowly devoured by thier own demons?
All because they chose to take his kindness for weakness
And when his father called to invoke a change of spirit
He turned off his phone because he wasn’t tryna hear it
As I stood in the doorway, eyes piercing through the dark of the night, obsessing over satins unique ability to caress every curve and angle of her frame.
I received an impulse to approach my prey. So smitten I don’t recall how I traveled the distance. Maybe I glided, maybe my wings flew me towards my dream.
Losing control of my bodily functions-it was if my heart took control and didn’t require permission from my brain anymore-while she lay still on her back like a goddess waiting to be taken by her fierce gladiator.
My fingers began to caress the triangular parts of her body and steadily moved to the creasing parts of her spine, sliding towards the cushions of her backbone.
Between her thighs I feel the steam from her ocean shooting out like a rapid fire; enough to invoke a mist.
My palms soon seek refuge in her well groomed garden. My brain begins to function slightly but only enough for me to imagine the pleasures my extension may feel might I dare expose it to her narrow river.
This would not be the first time I’d taken a dip in these warm waters -where I’d been many times smalls distances between life and death-and it wouldn’t be the last.
while on this expedition toward passion I always retrieve myself moments before my demise. Within each step I take towards an inevitable death I feel I become more alive.
I have no control of myself yet full control of her, this is my final fantasy, this euphoria.
I often read sayings/statements which discuss how ” there is always someone in the world willing to kiss/worship the ground we walk on” and I believe this is true; but I also believe that the people we meet in this life are a reflection of where we are in our human development. If this is true then it would mean that in order to receive such treatment one must be willing/able to reciprocate.
On the other hand, I also believe that someone who genuinely loved you would never allow you stoop so low as to worship them but would instead be too concerned with raising you up to your rightful state of being, your higherself, your highness.
This of course just my humbled opinion so don’t be afraid to tell me what you think.
Time is a test
The more we rush the more we fail
Take your time
I was in the alley watching niggas serve the fiends
Listening to Papi sell the hood niggas dreams
I was in an Audi by the age of 17
Couldn’t go to sleep I had smokers in my dreams
Tried to keep the peace but I would smoke you for my cream
I just had to have it
Light skin bitch kept saying I was average
Didn’t want to fail, didn’t want to live bummy
Late night kitchen table counting up the money
Everything was blurry my whole life looked fuzzy
All I really wanted was for somebody to love me
Moving too fast now my room look like a cubby,
Eating chi’s chi’s chips cutttin up my tummy
1 year down 15 years coming
All this time left and ain’t no runnin
It’s 1 million kinds a way to eat
But the hood got me thinking the only way is the streets
So when I get home Ima trap some more
and when I get smoked they spray paint me on the corner store
My kids won’t have a father and their mother will be spiteful
Because she knows that they’re doomed to continue the cycle