Lament Of The Stone Soldier

I was erected many cycles before her birth

a monument to all men..with my proud stone sword i

watched thru the portal of her father's window

as she was born and

rejoiced silently for these lips are stone...

she played among my feet as a toddler and i

envisioned her as a proud warrior...

such a precious child..from then i wanted to tell

her two words...

but i could not

for these lips are stone.

i watched young men woo her as she gained age and

felt a small amount of envy

their arms could caress her

tho i kno i couldn't feel a thing..

how soft she must be..

she took up the spear and gave her life to her country..

i watched with intense agony as battle loomed on the horizon..

and always rejoiced when she returned

bloody from the battle scarred but not ruined...

lauded by the peoples in the square as a heroine..

and

every time they paraded her near me...

our eyes would meet..

her's living

mine own stone..

my tongue longed to utter two words

but..my lips were stone..

once she returned and the blood was not her enemy's but her own..

i feared her injuries were mortal and i

stood guard and

peeked thru her father's,

now her bedroom

as she battled fever and

returned victorious..

two words still on my lips..

her eyes lined as years passed and

she took on the hair gray of a distinguished woman..

leading legions thru delegations and senate

i watched them all..

i drew my sword when her heart was broken and

wept silently as she bore

the agony of childbirth..

but she survived even this and

my lips still could not utter those two word..

stone as they were..

age catapulted into her lifeline and

she faced the inevitability of all who

can actively live

and love..

the reaper visited her door with a gift in hand one nite.

she lay sick..

old in age..

weak so as not to recover..

and i was heartbroken.. for

she would pass before i could tell her..

"you`re beautiful"

This Man's Burden pt.1

I
sat
teetering on the edge of my
stupid
ego,
a highchair propped up precariously, lifted by

pats on the back and

hastily told stories of
likes and dislikes and

superficial commonality,
looked at her...
her eyes saw but didn’t see,

for

they were

forging beginnings & endings

before the tale was told....
i
knew many of her issues

and felt helpless to aid her in defeating her demons,
and
i know people can be unfair
and
i know they can hurt,
but my male mental is to keep rolling,
her’s is to lash out....

hurt me...
this time without
vocalization,
unlike many times when

i was the subject of a vent session,

the succession of events that followed,

didn’t help
OUR
plight,
my bandages from previous wounds still weeping,
just like
her eyes,
I’m afraid....
afraid i cant reach out & touch that
place in her heart,
that touches her mind,
lost to me years ago...
i lost my band during a clash of ideas,
she no longer wore hers soon after....
i evolved a shell of sorts to shield me from those daggers,
but
i left her out in the cold.. and

i cant trace my steps back 2 her,
i carefully lean back in my highchair, and

wish for a restart button,
That’s not reality
....an escape?
That’s not reality,
we've crossed the thin line between love & hate so many times,
we have its location saved on GPS,
where is the poetry i felt in those lips?
can it be so gone so far away?
I’m
almost pleading with my pride to turn aside for
one second,
i just got it back
.. unnatural,
and i know that her way
has to be found by she who walks it
before she can walk back 2 me, fully,
our situation
more like an arrangement of convenience,
a look at my walls reveals
old 12inch vinyl records
and

posters of
Caribbean islands

and
graduation pics of my babies,
vicious white houses behind picket fences,
boats acquired for retirement outings,
most of the images are faded..
the air is smoky,
the ceiling is spotted,

the plush carpet
worn to the hardwood floor...
climb off my chair to reach out to
her
...the figure
...odorous wax
... my legs give

Be Easy My Soul

Be Easy My Soul
I long for
dense coastlines,
black sand beaches,
surf rinsing my mind clean,
I want to touch what the sky reaches,
I just want away...
with my conscience on mute,
no strings attached like a prostitute...
i'm tired...
I pray not to have my path set right,
but a change of pace toward a new colored light,
tired of blue colored light...
ekg'z show my heart beating out pain in morse code..
dot-dot-dot-dash...
away from the jungle in my head that are the dense tangle of
emotion trees,
& moral bushes,
common sense fruit,
do whut i gotta do creeks,
dat run backward & I
left my paddle somewhere,
when,
last week?..
I hear music but cant replay it,
songs but can't sing,
my choir is a cacaphony of
misey, & I

keep askin

for it all!!
wtf is my problem?
guess I dont learn too good..
this trail I walk runs in circles...its only 10miles long..
so around and round I plod
with nothing gained but more jungle,
my legs hurt,
my feet pang,
my nose bleeds from the migraine
I keep thinking I caused,
I look in the mirror & see the Shadow Man..
Be Easy My Soul..
im tired..
so tired

Amid a Blur of Colors

Amid a Blur of Colors

my mind dwells in the rinse water of a painter's studio,
my reasoning less sound and stark,
less reds or blues more purples,
and

half mixed concoctions,
stress like liquid thinner,
my resolve dissolving,
so where before i had purple
now emotions give my person too many shades 2 choose from,
ah!

They choose ME!
what to do what to do when black & white lend their essence to
bright primary logic &
birth hybrid reason,
beautiful on there own

but
so hard to match,
I so need 2 b refreshed,
lest the colors i detest dry & mar my picture,
Pray the the artist 2 rerender my abstract into something i can comprehend,
so now the green trees & houses with chimneys are
swirls of thought & color,
& my thoughts definition is merely
YOUR perception of the full..so now
reasonable issues no longer base my images,
Degas gives way 2 Dali,
where is the artistic hand who will
solidify this emo-esque existence or
who will embrace this WhirlWind of "huh" in their frame of acceptance,
& display me on the wall in response saying
"I do understand,

ur hand i will steady, ur heart I will ease?"
when will the 1st bold stroke be made?

Build Me...The Dreamer's Prayer

Build Me a happy place, from which I'll never have to leave

damn

I still can imagine Eden, green leaves and trees

Build me a Dream that I never have to awake from

safe in a fleshy hold, nightmares locked outside the doors

Build me a boat that floats outside on the water

just for me, float me from the lake to the river

down waterfalls to the sea

Build me a verse without "alas" place my ilk next to Shakespeare

I don't need the fame, I just want you to HEAR

Build me a castle with the warmth of a cottage

a better mousetrap, a legacy that deserves homage

build me a job I'm in love with

build me a love I can deal with

build me a heart with a teflon cover

but the veins run thru, and

to the true, it's uncovered

Build me a Truth that's not immersed in lies

im tired of trying to decipher shifty eyes

Build me a guitar with strings gilt of gold

with magical ballads that reminisce on their own

build me a song that makes the World reel on it's axis

Build me a story that I'm not afraid to relate

Build me a treehouse that sits on Olympus

Where I can sit and converse with Midas about not being Tempted

Build me Forever, in the eyes of Jah

Build me an Hourglass where the sands Loop in the jar

Build me a peace

or just a piece of peace

or a piece of peace of mind

Build Me

LSD

The Pen Ran dry, only Etching deep Crying lines of Blankness on the paper,

the voices started Moaning again, the Faces push thru the walls

the Sweat smells like Sea Salt, Dripping from my face, Wash my face in Blue Seawater

Look in the mirror

Short Dreads writhing like Snakes, Water dripping from my face has turned Red

Congealing Like Blood

the Paper screaming for retribution, Trees and Brush with crows in their Boughs

Spring up into my living Room, I fall into 4-foot mud Pits

on my way to the Paper, Climb out, I'm nearly Screaming for a Release

Grab the knife discarded onto the kitchen floor, "don't do it", they say, knife to Wrist

the Pain is more like a Burn, the ink spills from my Wrist like blood, easily forming

Legible Script on the Page

It flows without Reason, Without Remorse, it Dries instantly, the trip is Over,

I dry Heave

Next Morning

Awake in a pile of my Own Words

LSD

untitled

My Sword Lies

Bloodless by My Hand

Dull,

For I

Forgot to

Maintain

It's Wit

I AM FOR THE BLACKSMITH TODAY!

I Long for a New

EDGE

ON LIFE!

Inspiration...The Spark

THAT SPARK

Used to Brighten the Streets Where I Lived

In Pitch Black Swampy Blues I

Dwelt in Comfortable Warmth

That SPARK Outshone the Moon

Troubles

Always threatened It's Light But

I Believed in that SPARK

And SHE Believed in ME

But

Hopes and Dreams get Waylaid

BY

Pirates and Reality Shows

And Bush's WAR

and

Failed Love

and

Failed Love

and

Failed Love Hurts

and

The SPARK,

SHE couldn't Take It Anymore

and

SHE

Slowly SMOTHERED Beneath the Baggage

I Am Looking For HER Desperately

For Without HER I am BLIND

I Have Naught...BUT

DARK

Lyrics...

Lyricists are at the root of all music,every movement, words, at the soul of every war, every make out session, every make-UP session, every scripture of his Torah, her Quaran, their Bible,
my hip-hop,
somebody's country or Rock or Reggae,or Blues , physical expressions of somebody's internal tears or internal fears or I'm sorry or
YOU'RE SORRY,
or my struggle makes me wanna kick it or I done finally made it out of this ghetto dawg, come kick it with me, or
throw roses on hip hop cause hip hop is DEAD
or how you gon say hip hop is dead homie we still rockin down here or you fools done took this the wrong mufuckin way, or all i'm sayin is make the words count....that's all I'm really saying....
MAKE THE WORDS COUNT!
But don't sweat the details
cause/but/then
Ice Tea told me "Freedom of Speech just watch what you say nigga"
Cause Rome wasn't the only country with a classic period
shit I come from a Classy People who
forgot/ignore/don't realize
their
Class
...The birth place of written language....shouldn't that also be the birthplace of Literature?....Gotta dance to tell the story tho....gotta sing to the congas, to tell the tale tho,gotta hit the booth to tell the story, gotta pen and pad it to tell mystory herstory

HISTORY
.....maybe then we can make music....
my babies future favorites that'll they'll look back on when they're with their children's children

and be like "Remember when he said...."

Anonymous Me

Immense Prospecting in dark corners

Uncovers mildewed remains of

things long forgotten.. Picture frames

Long since Rotted..The photos barely

Intact...WIND CHIMES SING IN THE DISTANCE

Cardboard Boxes overturned....

ChildHood treasures revealed,

Broken and Chewed by the moths of

Time

Old Transformers Bed Spreads

Nike Air from '88

They've been washed a multitude

graying beneath Bleach's fuzzy Hold

I...I want to see the dirt now

Nose up, sniffing the foul closed in air

A CARDINAL CHIMES IN THE DISTANCE

Old textbooks and High School annuals with

Long forgotten signatures and friendly

"STay Cools", and "Stay Sweets" marked in the liner notes

the faces now aged, many of them...skeletons..

in some Closet

Tears Fall

Absorbed quickly by fresh Pages with

New Ink, Tears forming the Words

MUSICBOX TIPS OVER, A DISTORTED MELODY PLAYS

Wedding Rings and Bob Marley Posters and my BABY teeth..

Some of them cut on Job applications...

Encyclopedia Britannica Volumes with pictures of Hostage crisis

my Heart is There in the Plane

Love in a Fleshy Diary

I dare not Look at it

I DARE NOT

Who AM I?

This Collaboration of the Junk in my Soul

Noone else's treasure

I see LIGHT sometimes in this gloom

When the ISLEY"S croon over a dusty Guitar Riff

beaming lightly thru the Trees in the Forest

Exhale

Breathe Deep

Hold

to contain some of teh Essence

I've seen Light when some writer

Beams their Pen into my SOUL with a

well-place Shot in the Dark

DAMN THE DARK

Nothing much Really matters anymore

Love Doesnt exist

At least not in My eyes

Someone told me My romantic Perception

was Wrong

SO ready to RUN...

I lap around this Attic 4 times...

and 4 times back...

And Then..

Sit Back in my piles of Grief

Where the Hell am I?

A RAIN SOFTLY HUMS ON THE ROOF
Lightning Bolts Flare

Something Glints beneath Baby Clothes

a pen is revealed

Lauryn Hill SERENADES ACCAPELLO

THE WALLS WARM

who AM I?

copyright 2008 Life Sigh(NZ)

Odyssey of the Mind, PT2

I Wish to

Seek out the Answers to All things Mysterious,

Drink

Mead with 100 Elven Maids til I'm Delirious

I want Jah to Give me a Pass to Discover

When I'm Curious

My Love to tighten my Locs when I'm furious

Realize

the GOD inside me yall Im

Serious

Escape for One second thru the GIFT of the

RHYME

With My LOVE in hand, ODYSSEY of the Mind

Leave behind all my

STRESSES

and walk with my KIN

so much to learn like COLORS

I want to dicover

PURPLE

AGAIN

walk thru cotton fields

the STALKS bend in the WIND

sit

silently and wait

I hear my GREAT GRANDS

Singin'

Sit under a Bottle Tree and debate

the Spirits there

High on a mountaintop

Thin Ice and

Thin Air

then prick my RING finger till it

bleeds this

Rhyme

With My Love in Hand, Odyssey of the Mind

copyright 2008 LifeSigh(NZ)

Odyssey of the Mind, Pt1

I Long to Escape these Four Walls with Synaptic Intensity,

With My Love in hand Dip thru Medulla Security..

travel to the past, maybe march with Huey, or visit Cairo, create an Egyptian Trilogy...

I long to fly high above the envious, just starin, transform into an eaglehawk disregard them as carrion,

walk along the shores of the Rhine...

With My LOVE in hand Odyssey of the Mind...

Wish I could see the face of the Voice that haunts my dreams, see thru the eyes of a prophet, defying all meaning...

conversate with ATEN, until it's my time...Wih my LOVE in hand Odyssey of the Mind...

But peace tends to elude the speaker, ills glued to the seeker, my DOVE will enable my Love to be STABLE...

I Mix my emotions on the fly, in a diamond-cut beaker, but this PEN keeps leakin thru me, somebody's speakin, I'm lost half of the TIME...

Until I read my own lines, I just wanna get FREE sometimes...

With my LOVE in hand Odyssey of the Mind

copyright 2008 LifeSigh(NZ)

Undefinably Defined

Wreck

cannot be defined,

but complexity is merely a state of mind..I'm as obvious to your eyesight as an Abstract,

but you, sublimely divide out the colors...

See, you know ME well..

I'm every shape in your inblot test, whatever you need ME to be when the hues of EMOTIONS cause your eyes to bleed...

Water

But

what will YOU be to me?

I Live and Breathe on DREAMS

Because

I choose to

REALITY

has bruised the muscle in my chest

But

It still gives freely, when I'm sleep

But

Will YOU give freely to me?

I was told I had an extra chromosome

IT allowed me to love bein in LOVE

And it made it easier to turn the other cheek

with both hands

BECAUSE

My PRIDE is firmly attached

I AM

the Defined but cant decipher Wreck with

WORDS

I Am

colors and SHAPES and hues

I AM

SMOKE and fog and RAIN and sunshine and MOONLIGHT

I AM

the stardust under a PEGASUS wing

LOOK THERE!

I AM

the OIL

in your incense mixture

FLAVOR

egyptian Musk

I AM

the TINGLE in your gut,

I AM

the "U" in LuST

I AM

the "U" in HuMAN and TRuST

I AM

the LuMP in your throat that accompanies a CRuSH

the tense in your shoulders when it is ALL too much

the cold stream in your VEINS when the handcuffs TOUCH

I KNOW

who I am..

Its up to YOU to decipher who I am to YOU

THE UNDEFINABLY DEFINED

all things to ALL hearts

This Time

Get to KNow me

for

REAL

Copyright 2008 Life Sigh(NZ)