A Good Sleep (Blog Author, Tribe Person, Quasi-Satirist) 2007

“Stop it!” I yelled out to myself. Sometimes I had to hear my thoughts in order for the thoughts to be heard somehow to my body and mind that were craving various things because of vices I had obtained. I had started to self medicate right after my Daddy died. I was the only one to call my Father that term of endearment. The only one out of fifteen children which said, Daddy unabashedly. One of two that did not go to the funeral of their Father. My other sibling was out to lunch, a casualty mentally to the United States Post Office, my Brother giving even more credence to the saying, “Going Postal.” I had my own reasons of why I did not attend my Daddy’s funeral. I was and would always be called the Baby. Here I was, hittin forty like a mug and still being called, Baby. I guessed it could be worse.

The various induced chemicals I would partake in were becoming a hindrance to my being. To my well being, and that was no good at all. I was either always feeling tired or my stomach was upset, or like now tonsils bothering the dog shit out of me. Had no health insurance whatsoever, so there was no need to go to the doctor, I had went a few times before, two times to the emergency room for palpitations and another two times to my family physician for Tachycardia. In every instance over 500 dollars, so over two thousands dollars all together. After the last time I said to myself, I would have to be damn near dying before thinking about going to another emergency room or doctor. And each time only giving me a prescription and on one occasion giving me a 500 milligram of Motrin and sending me on my broke ass way. I knew how it worked. I had spoken to some other doctors in social settings and they had asked one question, “Did you have insurance?” I had told them all, “No. What difference does that make?” The various doctors I had spoken with in some form or another just said plainly, “The Doctors want to insure payment not only to themselves but to the various medical facilities they work for so if you don’t have insurance and you are not wealthy, the doctors treating you are going to do as little as possible to get you out of their perspective facility. The medical world is not as ethical as it used to be. It’s all about the green. And most often than not, no insurance means no green is going to come their way. That’s just the way the monkey swings on the trees these days. Plain and simple.”

It was some fucked up shit, but I knew one was conditioned to work in the corporate environment, when one tries to break free they suffer a penalty, no healthcare, no good credit rating, no house, no wife, no car, no American Dream and in great peril of being homeless.
But it was getting worse by the day anyway. People were not giving a damn. My mindset started to get the same way, but I had to do a reality check. I knew sooner or later, unless I died instantly from some sudden illness I would have to go to the hospital for something with my aging mortal self. I was getting older by the minute and I had pains now boy! Didn’t know whatever happened to that young athletic man I used to see in the mirror everyday? I would smile at the older and of course now aging body of mine. I still would not change anything for the world. There was only one person that could live my life, myself. I took a lot of satisfaction from that, like everyone should, can’t no one do the damn thing like you, I would say to myself. There was and will always be only one like myself and I had been looking at that person for some 40 years now.

Forty years! It seemed all a blur to me. Sometimes I would think about things that had transpired when I was in high school and it only seemed like yesterday. Really. Now, I am getting days all mixed up, and years for god sake! A year was 365 days long and I would often forget what year I was living in. Sad awhile, I thought.

Psalm Jackson. I thought of my name often in life wondering what in the world my parents were thinking about when they had named me? But I had found out my Mommy loved her some book of Psalm! Lord have mercy on that darling piece of work my Mommy was. Even to this day, at the age of 90, still having all of her faculties, could quote a scripture in a second, and oh how much information she contained. But still, Psalm? Come on now! But, “It is finished! Amen!”

I looked up at my high ceilings in my apartment and I wished I could push them all the way to the sky, so I could look out and see the world, heavenly. A wondrous site to behold I was sure. Looking at the mothah fuckah from ground zero, now that was some definitely ugly shit. People were ugly; spirits all tore the fuck up! Taking their given vexations and angst out on everybody they came in contact with. All I could think of was, “Why don’t you just stay your Black ass at home if you are going to act ugly!” They never did. It seemed as though the more people were frustrated the more they wanted to go out in the world and share the ugliness. “Stop The World I Want To Get Off!” I forgot where that saying or lyric maybe came from but it was appropriate. I also remembered a song that had the line, “We’re on a plane to nowhere…No matter where you go, there you are…” I liked that. But it did absolutely nothing for the situation I was in and would be in until I died, depressed, hopeless, broke and just fuckin tired!

I breathed in slowly, trying to meditate. Brain was way to active for that meditation bullshit so I did what I did in these times, I found my pack of Gauloise and indulged. Just one though. I was up to about two packs when I changed from lights to a full flavor brand, Gauloise about three months ago. If anyone could smoke more than ten of the very strong French cigarettes I would have to say, it was only a matter of time before something very detrimental to their health would come about. I remembered I took the first drag off of the first one I’d ever had, and had inhaled like the Lights I was used to. Mistake! I coughed with tears coming out of my eyes. Harsh as hell. But it did do the trick. I only smoked now when my nerves got way too edgy. Needed to calm them the fuck down, and here I was trying like hell to stay away from the cannabis delecti for at least 30 days because of these sorry ass bastards wanting to drug test every poor mothah fuckah like myself just to work an eight dollar an hour job. Shit, the President doesn’t get drug tested, nor does congress or the house or supreme court justices, the fuckin cops…The fuck! Fucked up times ten!

I inhaled just slightly more than the last drag, still caught a little in the back of my throat from the harshness but I relaxed, exhaled and got a little light headed from the square. I remembered Gauloise was a little different back in the day because the manufacturer produced every cigarette with a natural cotton filter, plus it was a little wider gauge than how they produced them now, still strong as hell, but when they had the cotton filter it seemed not as bad somehow. But back then too I was smoking Marlboro Reds so what the hell!

I had to quit. Chest hurtin like a muh fucka. Tongue after scraping it with a tongue scraper, well I used a kitchen butter knife, would result in this brownish-yellowish buildup that would come off after scraping. Nas-to-the-ty! Teeth taking on a very unattractive yellowish hue. Mommy would call it, corn on the teeth, but she would say the word ‘corn’ like ‘keyarn.’ She still would say it to this day. Oh, she never avowed that to me, I never knew why she hadn’t. Mommy was almost like a child, saying truths but not meaning any harm, just saying what she observed and expressed it accordingly. No malice ever being the eventual causative effect. But even if it was, Mommy was entitled to say whatever she damn well pleased, as far as I was concerned being how long she had lived and what she had seen throughout her life. I smiled thinking of her like I did most often. The memories of Mommy and Daddy always a good feeling in my soul. I kept them close though my Daddy had passed I still felt his presence, and the golden smile he had. That one gold tooth on his upper plate twinkling as my Father would be laughing or smiling from some witticism someone or my Daddy would have said. I missed my Daddy.
A tear came down my face as I smoked and looked up at the ceiling of my small, small apartment. One o’clock in the afternoon and I was acting as if I had not a care in the world, like I really had time to be sitting, well laying on my futon and not being productive. One of the rich with my broke ass! The cigarette was almost gone so I took one good last pull and extinguished it. Turned back on my back again, exhaled and had a very good crying session.

I had awakened for no other reason because my back was killing me from the cheap Wal-Mart futon. Never again, I thought. Darkness had fallen over the sky. I had slept another day away. Nothing accomplished but another pity party with myself and the souls that visited me on a regular occurrence. They always having enough courtesy to let me sleep for at least a little while. I didn’t know why they bothered me. There were so many people out there that were way more exciting. Way more interesting. But maybe that’s why they came to visit me, I had time to listen while everyone else faced the rat-race everyday for the rest of their life. Thinking somehow their perspective jobs were secure in this insecure working environment. I was still depressed, the sleep had done nothing but to make me more aware of the ticking time that forever was a backdrop in my life. Time just moving, while I stayed stagnated. Unmotivated. “Damn that!” I said aloud looking at my pack of Gauloise, my nerves were shot, I rolled off of my futon, put on my shoes and hit the door.

I drove to a local gas station, and went in. “A pack of Camel Lights please! In the box if you have them. Thank you.” I paid and while walking to my car I started taking the cellophane rapper off the top. Got into my car, found a lighter in the glove box, and fired one of the cigarettes up. I inhaled without reservation knowing how it would taste, being much smoother than the Gauloise. Couldn’t take those muh fuckas no more today, well this evening. I took another drag, put my car in drive and went home with a slight smile on my face. It's the little things about this life, I thought to myself.

When I entered my apartment, like usual, I wanted to just start with my futon and throw most of the shit out! Just start chucking shit. Fuck it! Start the fuck anew! I had noticed throughout my life people hung on to too much shit! Accumulating things that weren’t pertinent or not needed in the grand scheme of things. Oh, I didn’t believe in people not taking care of their own stuff but people saw things as more important than human beings and I never wanted to get there. Just like my car, I only had liability on it, if something happened to the thing, broke down…whatever, I would give it to the “Cars For The Blind,” and call it a day, it was pat and turns from then on out. No problem. I remembered when I was younger, always washing and waxing my car, vacuuming it out…fuck that! The car I had now I had not washed it since it had been handed down to me some three years ago. Point ‘A’ to point ‘B,’ that’s all I needed a car for really, to get me where the fuck I was going and to get me back from where I had went. Oh, back then I was tryin to impress the ladies. Like now, the ladies paid me no attention, Eagle Talon or repossessed Eagle Talon, I drove a Chevrolet Beretta now with my broke ass.
I didn’t smile too much anymore. Oh, I smiled but it was this smile that I had been working on all my life, a friendly, no problems in the world smile. The “Hi yah doin Ladies? Yeah, yeah, I see yah with your fine ass!” kind of smile. I remembered all the time people would ask me, “Are you all right? Is something wrong?” Something was always wrong but I didn’t want to share what was going on inside of me, a depressive state for no other reason than to be depressed. I didn’t know what the fuck to tell them that would make sense so I noticed that if I gave people a teeth filled smile, the questions about my feelings ceased, so I smiled this grand beatific smile for all the world to see because they really did not want to hear my moroseness. Shit, I didn’t even want to hear it and it was going through my mind all the time. Constantly.

My lord, I thought! It was very dark in the room save for the light from the computer screen. She had scared the holy shit out of me. “What chew doin'?”

“Shit,” I hollered out and turned to see she was eye level with me while I sat, she had been looking over my shoulder. She was a cute Little Lady.

“I’m so sorry Psalm. I didn’t mean to scare you,” She had said with the cutest voice.

“No need to be sorry Little Lady. I should be used to it by now. I just didn’t expect any of you for a little while. I remember you all used to only visit at certain times but its anytime now. I should have known. And I’m sorry for cursing,” I said.

“You don’t have to be Psalm! My Daddy would cuss at me all the time. I have spoken with the others and they said you were a nice man to visit. Everyone seems to like you! So I thought I’d come and visit for awhile since I noticed no one had your ear yet,” she said, and giggled just slightly.

I smiled back. “Well as you can see, I’m not your Father and I would not cuss in front of a Little Lady like you if I’d known,” I said.

“That’s so sweet! I wish I could kiss you right on the cheek,” she let out a little shy giggle again, “So what chew doin’?”

“Just writing that’s all. Getting some things out! I have to or I will go mad if I don’t. And we wouldn’t want that would we?” I said, still smiling at the Little One.

“I can leave if you need to finish…” She said.

“No. No. Don’t do that. I can finish this anytime. And I don’t think I have been introduced to you before. What’s your name?”

“Sarah,” she said.

“Don’t tell me. Your parents were very religious too!” I said.

“How did you know that? That is very eerie how you knew that,” she said.

“Oh, Sarah, stop it! Don’t you see? I’m Psalm and your name is Sarah,” I said.

“No, I don’t get it. You see, I was only eight when I passed away. I’m still learning though but I don’t get what you are trying to say,” She said.

“You and I just have biblical names that’s all. Like in the Bible,” I said.

“I know what the Bible is silly,” she giggled again and continued to stand next to me, “Oh, I get it, like both of our names are in the bible and that is where My Mommy and Daddy got mine from. And your Mommy and Daddy got yours from!”

“Right on Little Lady! You got soul!” I said and I held up the black power sign.

“You’re funny. I wonder why I haven’t visited you before? You are very nice. And easy to talk to. I like you Psalm! I see why everybody else does,” she said.

“Well, thank you. And you are sweet yourself. Can I ask you a question?” I asked.

“Sure! I have nothing but time Psalm.” Sarah said.

“Okay, every soul that comes to visit me the first time knows my name. How’s that?” I asked.

“Oh, silly. We know it because we are still very courteous to the living. Well some of us are. You see, if I was to just say, What chew doin, without saying your name you might get intimidated. So as to be polite and so you will welcome us back again, we say your name so you may know that we are here. I told you everyone likes you. You are never going to be without company. Ever! How much everyone speaks about you,” she said.

“I don’t know if that is good or not.” I said.

“That is very good. I have found out, though, I haven’t been here long, that if you are not liked, no one visits you and you have no, I think they called them, creative thoughts. Just, ‘going with the flow’ as Uncle Jimi told me,” she said.

“Who’s Uncle Jimmy?” I asked.

“Oh, Jimi Hendrix. He told me he could play the guitar like nobody’s business in the living body. He says he misses being able to play his own music, ‘cause nobody can strum those cat hairs like I used to do!’” she paused shortly to giggle again, “He doesn’t talk to too many of us. He is still in his transitional period like they say I am,” she said.

“Jimi Hendrix! The man! He never lied to you on that one Sarah! The man could play it behind his back, with his tongue…I never saw him play it with his toes but I’m sure he could!” I said.

“You know Uncle Jimi, Psalm?” Sarah asked excitedly.

“Don’t know him. Know of him! That’s it! Yeah, he died very young, way before his prime which is scary to think about what other kind of tunes he could have spit out!” I said.

“Spit out?” she asked.

“Recorded. You know, before he died. How many other albums or songs he could have left for us to listen to,” I said.

“Oh! I understand what you are saying, but I never could listen to music, or watch television! I was even home schooled. I was only able to read and write. So we have something in common. You were also writing when I arrived,” she said.

“Yeah, a way to quell the noise going on inside my brain Little Lady,” I said.

“Noise? What kind of noise is that?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. Let’s just say it is one of my hobbies,” I said.

“He said he would find a place where we could listen to his music but we haven’t been able to find too many people playing his songs. So when we hear it echoing, we follow the echoes until we are where the music is coming from and usually when we get there, the person has started listening to something else. He is kinda of bummed-out because he said he thought his music would forever be played all over the world based on the other, inferior guitarists, as Uncle Jimi would put it. That’s why they say he is still in a transitional phase because he hasn’t let go of the other body,” she said.

“Little lady you sure don’t speak like any eight year old I’ve ever met. It seems as though you are learning a lot,” I said.

“Some things,” she said and looked down kind of shyly.

“What’s wrong Sarah? Is there anything I can do?” I asked. Now, kind of feeling sad because I could not help Sarah physically, a hug, holding her hand…something tangible to make her understand that she isn’t alone in this life. And that was the problem I could not comfort her at all except with words.

“There was another reason I came to visit you,” she said letting the sentence fade at the end.

“What Sarah. I don’t know what I can do but I’ll sure try,” I said.

Sarah looked up, eyes wide open, “No! I’ll tell you what. I’m going to go and find Uncle Jimi and talk to him about it. Then I’ll bring him back for you to meet him. Okay?” She said.

“Jimi Hendrix? You gonna bring Jimi Hendrix to my home? And you comin back with him?” I asked, still in disbelief. I didn’t know why a guy that used to be of his caliber would be visiting a ‘cat’ like me because there were all kinds of guitarists or musicians…hell, a lot of people, he could visit and talk to.

“Of course, silly. I’ll see you later when I find him. Kay?” Sarah blew me a kiss, turned and vanished.

“Mothah Fuckah! What the fuck is goin on?” I said out loud to myself, now that Sarah was out of earshot, as I continued to look in the direction where Sarah had disappeared, while I fired a Camel Light up and inhaled mightily.

It was lonely sometimes when there was a lull, maybe five sometimes twelve hours before one of them would visit. And if I were asleep most of the time when I awakened I might wake up and see a soul looking at me until I was oriented, ready to talk. But sometimes it was like most of the time I would wake up and see a congregation of souls in my apartment talking to one another until I had awakened fully and they would all greet me and let me in on what was really going on in the spirit world. And likewise I would get them up to speed on what is really going on mortally. So it was like trade-off really. Though they could experience all of this themselves it was still like they were in contact with a living that understood what life is really about.
I remembered speaking to a soul and they had informed me of what the real afterlife is about, there were two really he had informed me. “One, like I, who was killed or died in some instance or another, we are the real ‘dead’ souls. But then you have others whose souls are dead and that are now in the afterlife, but they have a chance at anytime to get back within their regular life until mortality ceases to that individuals soul’s human body. So, as you can see Psalm, you can have déjà vu. You see you can see spirits while you sleep or awake and they pass in and out of your consciousness, and the living dead souls are still walking on earth amongst all of you. Just a shell though. Nothing there, save for something that might trigger them to come back to their mortal body.” (to be continued)

Seeing Is Believing? (Loquacious , Thirty-Two Year Old, Male, Tribe Person) 1976

I often think of these people I understand as the human species: them, we, us, I. I often get a little embarrassed. Thinking about how one has the right to procreate or not. People put more time in wondering what to eat or when to get up than about considering having a child; to bring another human being into this world. The human race. Thinking we are the only species that can reason. Maybe the other animals: dogs, cats, and horses...Maybe they think they are the only species that can reason. Having a language all their own. Communicating on an entirely different level than what we can put into subjective thought. Having a mindset of the millions of Africans in their own land succumbing to slavery. Maybe a long time ago their species came to the realization not to fight against humans or any other animals that enslaves them. And we not understanding the reasoning of said animals. It is said by the scientists that the world has been here some billions and millions of years. Maybe it has. Maybe every animal on this earth at one time or another thought they were the only ones that reasons and given that reasoning one must understand another species will eventually take over what we call earth and become the only animals to perceive to be reasoning. I think one is not empathetic enough when one is an elitist and think we are on the top of the food chain.

The human species. The most laughable species on this entire earth. Thinking we have control over the other animals and elements of this environment. Understanding this world is finite and we only are fooling ourselves thinking we are rulers of this habitat. Thinking about how we are made up. I have to wonder if what the scientists call microorganisms or bacteria are rulers of this earth if one really wants to muse over the existentialistic side of life. Give into this life and world and I think we would come up with a whole new perspective of this life. One has to look at humility. Understanding one has their limits or life span one must look at the unanswered question, “Why are we here?” That trite ,undeniable, fuckin’ get on your nerves question. The question still remains the same. But, I digress, maybe it hasn’t. Maybe each and every one us have the ability to answer that question but for fear of boredom decide not to do just that. To remain silent until the final response must be asked than answered as in death. You see we must all answer that question at one point in life or in death, finally succumbing to that inescapable query. One we should have answered long ago, yet, now we must answer.

Alas, maybe that is even wrong. Maybe what we do is keep denying until the end of time, as we know it. But maybe that is kind of a play on words. A somewhat confusing statement given the fact, do we really know there is an end of time? Maybe time is relative given the individual who is looking at time. Maybe time is ongoing yet, we just keep putting limitations on this element of truth. Trying like hell a long time ago to keep on denying the question or avoiding it all together. That’s why maybe people die so young and maybe that is why people die a tragic and painful death. Maybe they realized in a certain span of time, maybe too soon, what this life is really about and with the knowledge at hand is a demonstration to all what happens to one and all who attain this knowledge.

Let’s stop right there. Lets digress just a little and maybe think to ourselves on why this little bit is able to transpire. All of this is able to take place because o f peoples selfishness. Trying to play and accomplishing the feat of creation by some symbiotic dance we call coital activity. Not being able to pull it off ourselves with some divine gift to waive perspective hand and “Poof!” Another human is born. No we have not that power. But given all that we know, (given the fact I know anything ) what one must confront given the fact of our subjective mind, which gives all of us subjective truths. But you see that is even up to argument because maybe I don’t even understand the truth, that is the truth of popular belief. Given the fact I see the truth subjectively. Maybe the truth is not subjective at all but objective. Just one-dimensional not being able to be discussed or discoursed over. Because you can plainly see if I did not see it as the latter I can not with great certainty say I am really a person or human being or I am even typing these words which I imagine someone will some day, and say, “Yes, these are words. And these are sentences. And yes, these are paragraphs. And yes, by cracky, this is an essay about reality. Or so it was perceived or not perceived by one man.” Screwy is it not?

You see reality is a cacophony of confusing ideologies and thoughts. Meshing together to make truths or in this matter perceived truths. Maybe , reality is something I imagine all the time. Making up objects, new people, places on a day to day basis. Making my intangible world tangible by shear thought or subconsciously. But if one gives into that reasoning, it would give a person pause because if that is all we are, shear thought, life as we know it ceases, and what is next? Ah, now there is a query I don’t hear too often; What’s next? To pose that question to oneself brings about thinking of the hereafter and what is next. Now we get into another question that goes along with the aforementioned query, Why are we here? So after one asks that to oneself over and over maybe in this instance they ask themselves the wrong question. Maybe the question is wrong all together. We know or at least on some conscious level we are here, given the fact you see this truth to be correct , and if we know that then why has one over and over ask “Why are we here?” We are here, so the real question that should be posed is, “What’s next?” That is the correct question to ask. The only question if one poses in an existentialist way.

What’s next? Ah do you see what power that question has. The feeling you get just by saying or posing that question even to oneself. Why are we here?, is a trite overworked dumb ass question to ask about our existence. We are here! We understand or know we are here. Or at least on the same plane metaphysically or you could not read all of this and you would not be the audience I was writing to nor would you be my truth or my reality. What next? Or maybe that is all wrong too. Because maybe after reading all that I have written about the truth we you would have to see my point , statements of truth, as being the truth, given the fact you are true to me and the fact you all are real. Confusing once one starts getting to the crust of the matter. You see we are limited in our world of truths once the boundaries of said truths have been implemented; ergo, limitations on not only what we can physically and mentally do. Lets look at that for a minute though, shall we? Take for instance maybe all of this is transpiring in our minds and we are not really doing the things that we are doing or that we do in this life we just are reaching out mentally in the universe and zappo-reenio, we create reality. People say, “Well , if I stab or shoot your ass. You will know what the truth really is!” Will I? Sure I guess on the level which we are conditioned to since birth. Sure, I have been conditioned to think or believe, if one shoots or stabs me imminent peril is cast upon my physical body and death is put into the equation. That is the mindset of us all because of the mere tunneled vision scope of the human being, “the biped.” This goes along with the earlier statement of man, as we know, is a hopeless elitist. Never thinking in another realm but on the same conscious level like their other relatives.

We are all just byproducts of some nasty genetic creation. Looking at ourselves critically, we are an ugly species, strike that, animal. Really look at the human shape and form and realize the deficiencies of the human body. Our ears, our noses, our mouths, our genitalia...One could go on and on about the human animals anatomy. Once you sit down and dissect it, one should notice how utterly ugly our bodies really are. And maybe one will start to think the other animals that share this earth with us are laughing everyday on some level about how fucked up anatomically we appear. We sit in the scorners seat and berate every animal we perceive to be ugly but we hardly ever look at ourselves and criticize ourselves about how ill shaped and ill built our bodies were made. Oh, but lets look at that too. You see to take that position is to speak about the higher power, the supreme being, the holier than holy, the boss of bosses...Allah, God...We cannot fault the human body because it was, “...created in his own image.” So as you can see given that to be the truth one would have to look at the fact God is this androgynous, amalgamate of an entity equipped with penis, testicles, breasts, derriere...on and on it goes. A mishmash of the human animal. A bisexuals dream date. Oh, don’t get all in a huff about the latter statement. Remember we are talking about truths or perceived truths. Also when it comes down to it we are speaking about opinions since perceived truths are just that, opinions. So what is fact? That is an excellent question also. We are all correct and incorrect. Right and wrong. Fucked up and not fucked up. We are the epitome of the word confusion in the flesh or in this instance, animal....


.....TO BE CONTINUED

Death Begets Life (Blog Author, Tribe Member, Quasi Satirist) August, 2020

Chasing shadows, after the dark clouds have passed. The thunderstorm that seemed to depressingly last while I tried to enjoy the meadows, through the deep dark overcast. The sun is finally breaking through, uplifting my spirits just a little. But my brittle broken soul almost shattered like fine glass, is now healing, but the feeling of loss is still the minor boss. And will always be; while I try to keep keeping on. Won’t be no fun. But life oft times has ended for one; and for another…has just begun.

A Lead State (Out of Work, Male, Ex- Million Dollar Club Real Estate Agent) 2010

Don’t stop me from seeing this life full of Beauty; society living a lie as the populous sighs; ties that bind; find the light which shines from behind haloing such an angelic culture. Black melds into the backdrop as my heart stops from the torture. Color infused and confused, a convoluted mess undressed. Confesses to the transgressed; blessed the elite to complete the round robin robbin and sobbin. Money always funny as the light shines with ill perceived ocular sunny rays; days filled with depression; confession of a failed humanity plainly seen. Dope fiends fleeing from the red light flashing erratically throughout the night. Light a fag and sag into the rags of existence; persistence to live out of habit only to give another day of preciousness. Why waste my time? I’m frustrated and don’t want to commit a crime. The clip holds sixteen rounds; I only need one… to witness the angelic sounds.

A Black Eye (Black History Major, Female University Student) 1993

Founded being grounded; amid a race disgraced. Trained ignorance which was planned to cause our circumstance. Living in Diaspora sans the flora, disconnected from our great tribe circumscribes to a lifelong failure. Unsure of the people we used to be in our long productive and prideful history.
A sad story.
A sad commentary.
Quite pitiful to our Black Ancestry.

Idle Time? Now Y'alls Stupid Asses Got Pro'lems! (Black American, Male, Stand-Up Comedian) 2011

These muh fuckahs just always thinkin they can get away with lyin. Rich men and men in general for thousands of years and more thinkin somehow, some way they have found the ultimate lie or con. Like Bania used to avow on Seinfeld, "Gold, Jerry! It's gold I tell yah!" Fools gold! Yao Ming?

Rich mothah fuckahs and this here Federal-fuckin-gov'ment been lyin their asses off and thinkin we are some stupid sorry ass bastards. What the fuck! What's a muh fuckah supposed to do when companies are tellin people by the thousands, "We're sorry, we have to let you go." And they escort your ass off the company's property, waive goodbye, "Peace My Brothah!"

And this economy is gettin better? The fuck I look like? Boo-boo-the-foo'? Shiit, they need tah quit that noise!

They thinkin we are so stupid that we are not goin, on those now off hours since yo sorry ass is unemployed, to start seein what's goin on? Shiiit, a muh fuckah gottah lottah time now to watch the news, surf the Net and talk to the other numerous unemployed folk.

Now, here's the quandary with y'alls rich and rich/political dumbasses, those same muh fuckahs yo silly asses done put into the unemployment line start gettin more armed with understandin, witnessin what the fuck has been really goin on, becomin aware of the bullshit they been missin while workin their asses off so many wasted years, you dumb sons of bad cocks!

Don't they understand that? Mothah fuckahs sittin up here with Ivy League educations and shit, and don't have any common sense whatsoevah! Tryin that juvenile psychology bullshit, "Since you did this before for free and now you want to make a living demanding pay, we will no longer provide you work." You super-silly-arrogant-sorry-inhumane-mothah-fuckahs, You! How they think so many mothah fuckahs have all this time for that, Wallstreet protests shit that's goin on all across the country? Cause, y'alls asses conditioned a slave to work like a fuckin dog until they die. And whatahsurprise! They ain't dead yet; albeit, y'alls rich motha fuckin asses wish they were...then yo sorry asses gots the nerve tah take the work from'em! Just because I gotstah pay those ignant poor mothah fuckahs now and I used tah not have to pay those sorry poor animals shit! The fuck?!

The more a slave works,albeit yo greedy ass gotstah pay'em a lil som'ehn-som'ehn now, the less idle time they have to finally read, research...find out what's been goin on the last fifteen years they've been workin sixteen hours, goin home, sleepin seven hours and it's back to the grind!

Nah! Keep the muh fuckahs workin! Then your lies stay true because who gives a fuck as long as a muh fuckah is gettin paid, stayin solvent! Don't lay muh fuckahs off or start downsizin... give incentives to companies that work the shit out of their employees. Then muh fuckahs don't have time to be informed about the lies you tellin. Doin shit half ass backwards. Just fuckin dumb!

These elite, entitled, lazy pieces of shit didn't learn shit from their ancestors, those damn worthless, shiftless, greedy, inhumane slave owners.

You work the shit out of a slave. Work a broke, poor mothah fuckah for 16-23 hours straight, on a regulah, and I guaran-fuckin-tee that muh fuckah ain't gonna think about escapin or gettin edumacated...as long as yo silly ass breaks'em off a lil som'ehn-som-ehn! Yous ain't gonnah have nos problems from d'em! Hell-to-the-nah! All that muh fuckah is gonna be thinkin 'bout, aftah all those hours of slavin, is gettin some fuckin rest and gettin some fuckin sleep. And yous have no pro'lems at-all! Believe dat son! Yah heard may?!

Synthetic Bonding (Twenty-Three Year Old Male's Poem of Devotion to Female Tribe Member of The Same Age, Now Courting) 1984

Baby calm down, turn around and allow yourself to hear the sounds and words I avow. Gonna be sunshine before too long. I promise. You promise? He promised! Just hold on strong. No need for the bong, our past Siren’s song. Life is real. We must deal without the induced altered state. Let clear conscious decisions be our destiny, not fate. We’ll be fine throughout the night and the light will shower on us like the finest wine. We’ll take communion and drink of his blood which he shed for our chance to live our lives together. Inclement weather notwithstanding, sometimes handing us a storm; so we may warm ourselves; unite, to make our relationship stronger. Holding hands and fighting the good fight, conquering this life. The longer we hold on to one another the more the bond will adhere. Eventually being seamless, as one; with nothing or anyone to fear.

(HMNS) Devalued Human Commodity (Sensient Stock Broker) 2015

It’s something to say to be living today. I don’t pray to stay. Let nature take its course, like with any marriage there is always discourse then divorce. Mine was a shotgun wedding, being thrown into this life without a choice. Final sale as I inhaled my first breath. No returns once it is taken out of the store. Caring of the purchase is optional, people have never cared about the fine print, “To Care For,” label. Because it all depends on how much time one has to take care of the item. Products are not made like they used to be manufactured; once finished with the completed product, it was taken through various tests for quality assurance, once passed, then and only then shall product be able to be out into the open market. But times have changed. For the good? It’s all about the perception of the one which has witnessed the declination of quality of product of note. The stock market price for Humans(HMNS) is at its all time low. And that’s what it has gotten down to, the question that has always been out on the open floor: To buy or to sell?

Eden Deferred (Female Horticulturalist) 1951

In the Garden of Eden everyone’s bleeding. Plucking, de-seeding this earth. The birth of a child sends a mild and dolorous cheer. Seers of another disfigured plant. Peers into the future not worthy of the beauty that has just been harvested, a wasted youth prophesied by the truth; an adult life full of strife; but there’s always hope with fertilizer dope. Smoke from the volcanoes to light up another high. Spy the genes turning obscene. Instill the will. Give society a deity. Just one life; not two… What a pity.

The Human Plant (Female Horticulturalist) 1952

Take the walls off the water; let the earth sink into the seas. The core copying what it did way before our Adam and Eve. Conceive another birth to this Earth; making the human more human; a scientific experiment which will each time fail. Inhale the wondrous smells… But the earth never stops creating its children to love and to nurture; so those same children will take care of their true parent of their Beautiful, walking and talking annuals. Manuals being left to steal the breath, to help them defend themselves, to survive the oft times torrent climate atop its heavenly body, its heavenly being. Hoping one day, the ones they have so much hope for and to never having to harvest again, will survive forever.

The Welfare Government...And Rich (Political Satirist) 2010

They say fools never change but they are the ones that rearrange. It’s a shame how they are in control; quite disturbing; quite strange. We pay them their government welfare check to chat on the happenings amid this new world order. Like the ghettos who they throw garbage at because of their trivial government allotment, not working for their money of need. So doth thy political administration; sitting back talking and talking about nothing and getting paid for non-productive work. The employers which employ us call that cause for termination, “Egregious misuse of company time!” They cause chaos and disorder, like the ghettos with their people causing violence because they are being non-productive; but its okay while they have to justify their civil servant elected position. Firing fingers at misdemeanors! Hypocritical transgressors. Never has peace come to the many countries of their given regions or nations. Who’s really on welfare? Situations tumbling out of control as the bombs scare; we stare at the violence whence the outcome of the fools’ job security. Happily we live as this earth comes to its end right in front of our eyes; giving out checks to elect the suspects, subsequent murderers of dialects. Our souls conditioned for apathy to no surprise; lies have become truth; truth turned into lies.

Help, Is A Four Letter Word (Troubled Female Tribe Person) 2013

I am so cofused Oh Lord.

Help me get centered in these decentered times.

Help me breath when I feel I have no breath.

Help me see joy when there is none to be seen with my weary human eyes.

Help me have hope in this hopeless state that we are in.

Help me keep, keeping on though I would rather lie down and sleep...forever.

Help...Me!

So I can Help...US.

Amen!

Treadmill (Enlightened Tribe Person) 2013

Don't take the trip that's hip. Slip into a coma to slow all the ills that perceivedly thrills. Pills being a mainstay as our sanctimonious self prays. But there will never be a requirement under this Heaven, this fine firmament, to fine tune this sickly state of being. Spent a lifetime looking for answers, and there are none to be seen after good prayers are sent. Lent another folly to jolly, a jocularity of clarity. Making one think there is a God over Us. Cuss the trust as we fall from high. Sigh until you are tired, not spry...anymore. Folk lore is just that, something to give the manics many panics to start taking Zanex. Pre emps the sorry commercial that pre-paid to lay another food for so-called thought. Bought the status non-gratis. But we are still here as we labor under Our God's Sun! Smile my Brethren child! We still have time to run...if not but a little while.

Backseat Mothah Fuckin Drivers! (Black American, Male, Stand-Up Comedian) 2001

Mothah fuckahs wants tah sit in the fuckin passenger seat complainin bout cho muh fuckin drivin! Shiiiit! Okee-the-fuck-dokee-smokey! So, you pull yo Black ass ovah. Fuck this shit! For real! Say to them,"Take the fuck ovah cause a niggah's tired!" They scramble out of the car, can't wait tah take the fuckin control, the wheel. Go head with you bad ass! Go the fuck ohn! You sit whence they once were. Get all comfy and cozy. Close your eyes. Fuck it! I need some fuckin rest!

Then, what do they have the nerve tah do? Callin yo name. Shakin yo tired ass every fuckin minute or so sayin, "Which way should we go?" Naw, mothah fuckah! Hell naw! Not, "We"! Fuck that! You! Whatevah way yo ass wantstah take is fine by me! A niggah tryin tah cop some Zs. For real!

Then, they start cussin you out and shit. Whatevah muh fuckah! Drive! Drive, with yo sorry backseat drivin ass! I don't give ah real bad fuck!

Aftah awhile they get tired of drivin, bein lost. Wake yo tired ass up! And state, "You drive! I'm tired of this shit!" Get some You! Right on! And get the fuck ovah in that passenger seat where you should have stayed before! And please shut the fuck up from now on, cause I ain't scared tah give this mothah fuckah back to yo sorry ass!

I may be tired, mothah fuckah, that's for damn sure! But I'll get US where we need tah be! Without all that fuckin complainin! Cause, I ain't scared and I'm used tah bein tired! Yah heard may?

Watching The Wheels (Blog Author, Tribe Person, Quasi-Satirist) 2008

Most people read the Bible for comfort. I read the shit for entertainment and folly. Insults my intelligence so. Unbelievable! The fuck I look like? Oh, blasphemy Meredith! You will burn in the intense fires of hell! Okay, and tell me pre-tell where your ass gonna be? Coolin your heels in Heaven? Puh-leeze! So called Christians fartin with their mouths, or asses, whatevah is clevah, they are both the same because they speak from both equally. Blowing that malordorous wind wherever and whenever they please. Funkin the place up! And fuckin this place up! Are you crazy Meredith? The fuck's wrong with you bo-ay? Not'in! Absolutely, positively, not'in! If muh fuckahs believed what I've been readin tonight the human existence would be heaven on earth. Shiiit! We wouldn't have to wait to be judged! Kiss my ass! Burn every one of those pages in that piece of shit! And if all of what I write is wrong...than get your ass out there and work! Spread not only the word, but the damn joy! That's all I'm sayin. And that...is a Beautiful thang! Oh, yes it is!

What does anything mean? Your name? Your words? Your moral character? Your existence? I was just reading the Bible and I smiled and laughed so hard I almost cried. I remember Brother Rice, a member of Christ Temple like Mommy was so long ago stated, “You know you have to smile and laugh at this stuff to keep yourself from crying all the time.” And he was serious as cancer. I don’t think he died from cancer but I know the man was a good man and he died of something, like all good and bad people do. Yo ass dies of something. Sho you right. You best believe that shit! No ifs, ands or buts about it. You will die! But when? That there is the million dollar question. People always talking, sayin shit like, they would like to know. Would you really muh fuckah? What be you then? How would your life change so drastically if one knew their given due date, their appointment with destiny? I mean yo ass knows now that you probably won’t live more than at the high end, ninety years and I don’t see muh fuckahs out here in droves doin things any differently than what they are doin to this very day. With the understanding they have no more than ninety years to do the damn thang! Whatever that damn thang is. Yao Ming.

You see it really doesn’t matter because it is all bullshit. Even if we knew, because we know now, shit yo ass is mortal not immortal, so things wouldn’t change in our lives. We would just fade away like we surely do every second of every passing day. Ain’t nothing gonna change. Ever. Cause we don’t want it to. Less...

People love habits. They absolutely hate change even if it is for the betterment of not only their existence but for the generations to come. Why? You may be asking yourself about these little words forming on your computer screen. Because change is nothing but work and oft times than not, change takes a lifetime and a muh fuckah don’t want to be working for the rest of their lives. Shiiit! While yah playin. Ain’t no fun in workin. Fuck the future! The future is now damnit! Let those other bastards do it, while I suck on my Cubans, and ride in my Bentley; buy more shit than my ass could possibly need or want. Vex about kickin another muh fuckahs ass. Talk about bullshit every fuckin day that is counterproductive… Now that’s fun!

People want to talk about makin money. Shiiit makin money is easy if that’s all this life is about. Shit you can sale your ass for money. Up close and personal muh fuckah and you don’t even have to step outside the door. But I don’t see everybody doing it. So it is more than just makin money. Our existence is elusive; the query so profound, “Why am I here?” And the answer is slap dead in your sorry ass face you elitist muh fuckahs! You see, yo sorry ass been askin the wrong fuckin question goddamn it! The question isn't, "Why am I here?", but "Why are We here?" Plural not singular. Ain't shit gonnah get done with just one muh fuckah doin the damn work. I am not One but I am made up of many!

We are here to aide one another, to love one another, to look out for one another, to make sure every one of our Brothahs and Sistahs are taken care of, to have just as much as the other, no more and no less. Even to the detriment to our own lives. And if you don’t believe that! Well…as I stated earlier, ain’t nothing gonna change! Ever! And that…ain’t no Beautiful thang! Yah heard may!

So keep smiling and laughing! Avoidance is a muh fuckah! But don't forget to wipe your ass with Hope! And please don't forget to flush! For real!

Tarry No More (Sixty Year Old, Male, Food Chemist) 2010

Don’t take this lightly but definitely politely as we sightsee in this world with hidden Beauty right in front of our eyes. Surprise of the size as the downsize gets terminal. Only a given few staying up after the curfew enforced every night. The fight keeps goin on, strong and oh so long as the thong of society’s crack gets attacked and shellacked with brown fetid matter. Fecal remnants still lasts on the “Savior’s” platter; still on the menu with not much virtue. Ah-Choo! As the allergies tend to get a little more pronounced as the seeds get pollinated; generated from a green color scheme partially-hydrogenated; a kaleidoscopic dream in whence one doubts this reality; a propensity amid us humans. What a damn shame! What a damn pity!

Religion: Making A Better Fucked Up World! (Twenty-Six Years Old Broke Black Prophet Pre-Salvation) 1991

You evah thought bout this here damn religion bullshit? I mean, don't make no fuck bit of sense whatsoevah! Keepin the slaves at bay. Oh, they got that ass! Oh, yes they did. I ain't crazy! No! No! No! Learned long ago, yah gostah give those niggahs, white and black, hope! Rich mothah fuckahs don't give ah damn bout a broke ass muh fuckah!

"Fuck that monetary bullshit!
I know...let's give'em nothin!
A fuckin deity...
God! Yahweh! Allah! Buddha! Combayah!...
I gives ah fuck!
Put any name yah wanna on that bitch, but I don't owe you shit!
You broke, poor, pitiful mothah fuckahs!
Just fuckin ignant fo no damn reason but tah be ignant!
Fuck! You!
You super-silly-mothah-fuckahs!"

And the beat goes ohn! Oh yes it does, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs! Um!

For Eve, Her! (Forever) (Ex-Mormon Female Religion Member) 2016

We take things for granted. Things that are right in our faces we have not a clue because of complacency. We live to understand and ultimately to know. But oft times knowing is death. Death and life are synonymous in relative space and time. Let me give you an example:

The Holy Bible, like The Book of Mormon,... has been around since who knows when but the book down plays women. Time and time again in the so-called "religious book" makes women look like an afterthought, a mistake. But...that's where we make our error because in every day words there are hidden secrets into this here life. But it is up to US to recognize the obvious. Unfortunately we never do. And the most causative, final word one does not want to hear about something bad that is or is going to happen is the term, forever.

You see, Eve all throughout Our humans history has been getting her revenge. She has always been remembered, not discarded or sullied. Like the old adage goes, "Ain't nothin worse, than a woman scorned." You're going to remember me, foreveher! Damn right bout that!

Branded (Twenty-Three Year Old Male Tribe Person Still Smitten with Female Tribe Person of The Same Age) 1984

Thine eyes hast not seen such Beauty before me;
Thine being hast not felt such Joy, such gaiety.

I Will Love Thee til Thou Lovest me not;
If that ever be…
I will be in Hell, you see;
still smiling,
While pining,
Burning,
Scorching hot.

Eden Revisited (God's Inception Greeting to Four New Citizens to the Eden) 0250

Welcome citizens! To a Beautiful new world. You have come here by chance. Not so many make it through what I know the travails of the journey and the many obstacles I’m sure you encounterd to get you to witness all of us to the destination with which you are right now. It is so very good to see you. We have rules in this Eden, if you do not want to abide by them or if you do not like them you are always free to leave at anytime. But, if you stay, we here welcome you with open arms, if you stay within the rules of this Beautiful world which we will all create…together. Rule breakers must be banished. No, ifs, ands or buts. The people all around you, that you see here, which amounts to one-hundred-sixty-two, including the four of you, that brings our humble state to one-hundred-sixty-six, will have a vote whether banishment occurs or not, one‘s vote does not carry more weight than another. We are all equal under God’s Sun and Moon. I urge the four of you to try to get to know every single one of US and We to know you. We have no secrets only plenty of work. It is up to US to start making this world, not what it used to be, but better. All of US present in this time and place are here for a reason, and you must believe that. Chance got you this far but destiny is why you are here. We are here to start this world again. And this time…we will not fail this Heaven and we will definitely not fail Our God which brought US together.

You Must Suffer...For Her! (Forty-Four Year Old Single Male Non-Custodial Parent) 2013

It was time. For the past seven weeks, until this day, the voice calmly, softly and comfortingly had said, "Fast."

I knew the voice was right. Throughout my troubled life, the stresses, the evils, the problems...all were taken away with a long fast. The problem was, I didn't want to do it. At 44 years of age, I was tired of fasting. It hurt so bad the first three days; the hunger pains, the thirst, the stress that my body took on from abstaining from mostly all that I so enjoyed.

"Fast," the voice said again, as if reading my negative thoughts. After the first three days, then it was only a matter of mental strength. The hunger pains subsided, became manageable. The thirst, I would quench with just taking a mouthful of water and holding it there. Imagining the time when I could drink water again. Then I would let the water dribble slowly from my lips until none was present any longer. Say the Lord's Prayer and whisper to the winds, "Soon."

"Fast," the voice repeated.

I slowly shook my head. Tears starting to form in my eyes. I finally asked the voice, "Why do I have to always suffer?"

"Because," the voice simply stated.

I shook my head again because I knew what the voice was going to convey to me. I knew the answer even before I had asked the first query. But I had to hear the voice's response to the known question and subsequent answer.

I took a deep breath. Held it deep inside my chest and let the exhalation pass slowly from my mouth. Tears now rolling down my cheeks. Finally I choked out, "Because, why?"

The voice with its sincere, calming tone said, "Because it's not about you any longer."

I broke down on my knees and cried uncontrollably with grief, pain and pity. Covering my face with my hands, ashamed even that I had thought, let a lone, asked such a selfish question which I knew the answer to before I had asked.

While the voice said over and over, "The both of you are going to be just fine. Be obedient and fast for fourteen days. You are going to have to do this, and many times after, until you sleep forever...for her."

A Spire (Eighteen Year Old Female Tribe Person) 2011

Tomorrow is another day

For hopes and dreams...

For folly...so it seems.

There's God! And There's This Religion Bullshit! (Twenty-Five Year Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 1990

The old saying goes, "If yah scared, then go to church." Mothah fuckahs get scared and go tah church. Then yo sorry ass still gots the nerves tah be scared? The fuck! If yo ass is goin tah church and still fuckin scared, then yo ass just fuckin off! For real! Like the Drill Sergeants say in the military, "You just dickin the dog son!"

But we got Black ass mothah fuckahs, and white ones too, thinkin Judaism was the chosen religion by God! Like, we all just tryin tah get ah seat on a flight, tryin like hell tah get the fuck out-of-the-fuck-here, just waitin for the "chosen few" tah get bumped! If yo sorry ass lookin at the shit like that, yo ass needs tah get the fuck out the goddamned terminal and drive, ride a bike, walk...I's really don't give ah good fuck, cause that shit just ain't gonnah happen! Evah! If it's goin down like that. That's some fucked up customer service fo yo ass! And yo ass needs tah find anothah carrier goddamn it!

Fuck the Baptists! Fuck the Apostolic/Pentecostals! Fuck Judaism! Fuck Muslims! Fuck Buddhists!...and definitely fuck those damn catholics, with y'alls sick asses! Worthless pieces of dogshit! Cosignin fo Pedophile Priests!? The fuck!?

You think God gives a good fuck what religious sect yo stupid ass is involved in? That's Our shit, humans' shit! Not, God's shit! We been fuckin round with the wrong ass shit! Putrid! Quite fuckin malodorous, to say the least!

But since we surrounded by the toxic methane gas this religion shit produces, that Our broke asses gotstah deal with, put your gas mask on (make sure you clear that mothah fuckah first). Kick ass! Take numbers! And start tellin the fuckin truth bout this here life!

These so called religious fuckers wouldn't know the truth if God himself came down and slapped them mightily on both damn cheeks! Pa-dow, pa-dow! Nothin! The truth sans religiosity is the only way we gonnah stop smellin shit and havin tah put up with this bull-shit! Yah know. Word to your mothah fuckin Mother and Father...and anybody else! Yah heard may?

Peace! More to come...(Lord willing)

In The Best Interests? (Non-Custodial Parent, Aaron Thompson, Plea To The Indiana Johnson County Juvenile Court) 2009

“Mr. Thompson, do you have anything you want to say,“ The judge asked.

“Yes, Your Honor,” I said, and proceeded to lay down my reasonable law. “The way I’ve been treated down here in Johnson county Indiana…well…I’ve been treated like a nigga. I don’t know how else to put it. The head of the ADR in these parts, Mr. Saturn, he told me straight up, ”Mr. Thompson, you’re not going to change the way things go on around here.” Fuck that mean? I still want to ask that motha fuckin so-called mediating attorney that. Why? Because she’s white and I’m Black? The fuck? I don’t have the right as a caring parent; albeit Father, which you courts don’t think two shits about, to have Zoe at least half of the time? Half of her life is not reasonable? Why? Cause I’m a nigga? Cause I’m a punk ass man, and if I really was a man, in the traditional court mindset, I would be out there at work, providing and slaving for my child? Not, wanting to spend time with the child, scaling down. A fuckin sperm donor? The fuck? That’s not a man’s duty to care about the rearing of his child or children. So, what am I doing as a caring male parent? Impeding upon the traditional mores and values of a race that don’t have the faintest clue anymore of how to raise a child or raise their children? Due diligence. I have witnessed firsthand of what I must do as a parent, not Mother or Father, but a motha fucka who played God and now the role of God don’t look so hot because the creator has been duped into a contract with another creator who’s creation was nothing more than the other creator being…bored. Not, realizing what that one creation will become, or what responsibilities belies when one plays God and creates. The power of Gods hand: I give you the gift of knowing creation. The greatest and most priceless gift God could ever have given US, his soul, discernment. And what do we do with it? We fight with one another about the time the creation can spend with one creator than with the other creator. We drink; work all the damn time; do drugs…cause we have found out, this creation shit ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Touché! Touché! God is a stupid motha fucka to keep putting in the pot on this gamble. He called. I called. And whatasurprise! Loser. Every fuckin time. But he did… and he does. I did..and I do. Because, like Our Heavenly Father, I have hope. And with that hope, Our child cannot become wayward. This society is replete with wayward children; hence, my non-traditional role of a Father; albeit, just a plain old parent. I am only guilty of that, just trying to be a plain old parent. I want this court to pity the man which stands in front of this judge. And I also want this court to pity the situation Zoe is in, in the creation process. The creation has no choice. The creators make those choices for them. I just want to be a part of my creation. I have nothing more to say Your Honor.”

Heaven Is Nigh (Broke Black Prophet) 2016

Take the time to find the fine line in this life of pitiable destiny. Blessed to be a wild child, instead of being meek and mild; it's so plain to see in me; piled high to the sky looking and knocking on Heaven's door.

No one has ever answered. Sent a request before I am dead, asking: "I keep knocking, will someone let me in?"

A terse response contained therein, "I don't care! But there's no need to keep knocking! My son, you are already here!"

The Little Big Things (Twenty-Three Year Old Male Tribe Person Smitten By Female Tribe Person of The Same Age) 1984

She smiles;
And when she does her teeth gleam so ivory;
Innocently;
Beatifically.
Face emitting a Lovely wondrous glow
From her Beauty.
Eyes dancing at me...

I'm hopelessly in Love.

Goodbye (Dead Caucasian American Poet) 1998

Let the fire roar while I soar into another life. Let the past be my present and future as I drift into my final slumber whence to never return. I have seen the light; alas, it is as pitch black as any ominous darkness that I could have ever imagined. But I stand stoic, never bending or giving into, this dreaded untold world which I am about to embark upon. A journey that I know not the origin or the given destination, save many have called it "Death." Bring it on! I have sailed the various seas and oceans. I have traveled many of places and I stand intrepid on the precipice of the point of no return with not a choice but a path that has been set for humankind so long ago, and I am no different. I revel in just that, I-am-no-different. Destination, Death. And the wondrous thing about that is...where be my destination posthumously.

Seeing In The Dark (Blog Author) 2005

I know this guy. He had so much promise, so much light within his soul it was a Beautiful thing to behold. Now though, the light has went out and he tries so desperately to find a match or something to start the fire again. He'll find it eventually. Maybe he has not a clue that there are things all around him that can ignite that fire again. I'm sure that there are. He just likes the darkness. And he'll find the ignition soon enough, when he is ready to feel the warmth again. But for now, he finds solitude and strength in that same darkness where most would find it absolutely cold and unbearable. But one must understand darkness to appreciate the effulgent light. Right?

Seeing is easy in the light, but the darkness hones the other senses we all possess; yet, we do not use them to their full potential, less we live in and appreciate the darkness for a time.

Refraction (Second Year Depressed Optometry Student) 2012

What can a human do to see this life through? Pass in the last on that ass? Fast cash weighs nigh, banking on a certain high. Mortify the populous among us. Cuss at the young folk as they take a poke at old school who rules a more saved society than misbehaved where no one shaves. Lying with the other animals amid cannibals; Tarantulas sting one another; feel the thunder of the fierce storm out amid the mighty seas. Frees my soul to never have control of this existence; penance of another credence. Pace myself to a sullen walk? Not when I can run; not sulk, have some fun under the Beautiful Son! Forgive the pun as the one gets another history from the commentary, signatories of the dormitories of such vile hostiles. Miles of roads need to be piled, weakened from these very steps. What? I bought the whole story of misery; past the days of our history. Time to stride, glide to another level; live like an extraterrestrial which I surely am; spam popping up on the computer screen as I lean into another altered state; a very lovely fate. My visual acuity corrected to Beautiful; left behind the blurred, myopic and astigmatic hate.

But The Fire Is Still Hot (Dying American Caucasian Poet) 1998

Take away, I pray, the piece of life that has never meant anything; nothing to the grand scope of things. Evils sending upheavals; steeples are bending with ease in the breeze; the freeze starting to falter, turning into water; the human element getting compliant; now defiant upon caustic complacency.

"Just give me my check and I'll say, what the heck?! Or whatever's clever."

Binds, starting to be unbound; never to be found...ever again. "There is nothing new under the Sun," My Son. Thou dost assuredly sinned.

You Can't Paint A Pretty Picture Without The Paint (Male Caucasian "Flower Child") 1967

It's hard coming down. Real hard. Reality slowly forming its ugly scene, piece by fragmented piece. Then the down time has arrived when all is said and done. Ugly picture too. Not so Beautiful anymore is it? Hell no! Need to score. Quick. But guess what? Funds aren't there! Oh, shit!

We Act The Same (Pre-Zoology Major) 2003

Choice? Or no choice? The only queries one should have. The only two queries to me anyway. “I see the light/ I seen the light…” Sing that song damnit! Go ‘head knock it out! Sing from the rooftops if yah wannah! But ask yourself another question, Have I really? And if you really have then you shouldn’t be singin. No-no-no! Yo ass should be scared shitless!

The infidels scoffing at infidels. You ain’t got me convinced with yo’ preachin, dancing and perceived captured, enraptured and “blessed” being ass! Captured by a light which you avow shined on you? Really! So it didn’t have no other choice but to shine on you and not me? Really?

Humankind was given what no other creature has on this entire earth: A gift of choice. But – for - not the ability to reason, then choice is not given; ergo, we are not human but just like all the other animals on this Eden . If, I need to eat, I’ll just chomp on this smaller human and satiate my appetite for a wee bit! No! Because we have rationale, we are sensient! Superior intelligence! We can’t fly like you birds, but we can make a birdlike vessel which will fly faster and higher than any of your kind without even the work to fly like you do, we make it mechanical; yet, we control it’s flight and patterns.

And you on the ground of the four legs, you scoff at us? And the best you have is a Cheetah? At best at the last clocking, a mere seventy miles an hour. With these hands and this superior intelligence, we have created a vehicle which will go more than two hundred and fifty miles per hour, not a muscle aches from going that fast for so long, because we have choice. Learn to run seventy miles an hour? Or build something to go faster, for a longer amount of time and without the work?

Or you, the kingdom of no legs and no wings. We learned so much from you of how we make these machines go faster than any animal in the aforementioned kingdoms are from your dolphins, aerodynamics. Water having so much drag but your dolphins can exceed some forty knots. Impressive but you still do not have choice. You cannot make the things that we do, we the Kingdom of Two Legs.

The thing about choice, it has this major flaw: No choice is without its penalties. You see, without choice there is no conscience. A raw single ideology when there is no choice involved: survival. Survival is non-thinking. Survival is about self and self alone; hence, one has succumbed to the kingdom of four legs, or the kingdom of two wings, or the dreaded wet blue kingdom of no legs or no wings.

A world gone mad with the state of disordered order, chaos. Yet, with this limitless intelligence we still succumb to the subhuman? Not looking out for our fellow humans. In survival mode. For what? We act like we have no choice. Is this what the best kingdom has to offer? And in the grand scope of origins: Have we not coveted the other kingdoms blissful ignorance of not empowering themselves with choice? Are we not all, based on our actions and non-actions throughout humankind, amid the Kingdom of Two Legs, any better than other kingdoms? We are all just like the various other kingdoms but we just talk, walk and travel differently.

A Taste of Heaven (Broke Black Prophet) February 2020

Walk into the light My Children. Let thy Son guide you into everlasting life. Let the ray of thy same Son scorch thy innards, sear into thine bone. Even the marrow will smell of char of thy holiness. Let it bake you into a crispy, savory gourmet treat for all thine world to feed upon.

Don't Take It Personal (Dying American Caucasian Poet) 1998

The soul is this lost, vast space;
Space, only being filled,
Found,
In Love
Or in Death.
No in between.
Because in Love,
As in Death,
One finds out the true meaning of life that,
"It never has been about You!"

The Times/You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet (Average Indianapolis Male Tribe Person) January, 2012

I came out of the gas station on 10th and Shadeland the other day and a young Asian, maybe twenty-five or thirty (I'm not too good with ages any longer) with a clean wife beater, clean athletic shorts and flip-flops and he ask me for a cigarette. I gave him three out of my new pack. In my whole 44 years of life as an American, I have never seen an Asian ask for anything on the streets in this You-S-of-A.

I went to fill up my tank yesterday evening and a thirty-ish white man asked me for fifty-cents, so he could have enough money to catch the bus, so he said. I gave him a single and he tried to give me fifty-cents back avowing, "I only need fifty cents." I said to him, "Man, be careful out here." He looked me in the eye and said, "Thank you My Brother." The same evening, I was going into my apartment complex, a woman came up to me and asked me for four dollars. I gave four dollars to her. She looked at me and said, "God bless you!" And I don't really believe or think that God is gonnah bless me at all, to tell you the truth.

I do not have this type of money to be giving out. Truly, I don't. I'm very low on funds always. But, what I am witnessing now...well...is something I've never seen nor experienced in my whole entire life. I lived in downtown Indianapolis for some six years total in the past and I did not see what I'm witnessing in this day...there are a shitload of people in need. And its only goin to get worse. And the bad part of this whole scenario is...I am, quite possibly going to be, one of them.

My God!

Who Needs Drugs...Or Meat? (Fortyish Male Lifelong Vegan) 2005

Fresh onion, cucumber, tomato and garlic. Oh, my! What a treat to eat with just vinegar (apple cider of course with the Mother), extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper to taste. Um! A full course meal to thrill. Setting my taste buds on guard! Making the back of my mouth moist thinking about all of those superb flavors that will intermingle into savory happiness once I take the first delicious bite. Adding possible a jalapeno pepper for a kick. Every time I make and taste this delectable combination, which is often, it makes me feel so good to be alive to just experience the rush.

Feeding Frenzy (Dying American Caucasian Poet) 1998

Paper tears goes unaware from it being torn free. Sees a part is better than the whole. Stole a bowl before the heathens began to masticate, then ate. Gorging on the weak to seek and eat. Nutrition of a cannibalistic source after the ballistics has been sorted out. Pout about the disease of unease as the stomach grumbles, breaking down the spoiled matter as it disintegrates from the HCL as it sits for a spell; defecate subsequent to gestation. Society is like the GI tract which doesn’t know fact to exact a purge when toxins are digested. Sometimes they don’t get expelled and we die from the infestation, the penetration of foreign matters.

Conditioned Response (The Blog Author, Tribe Person And Quasi-Satirist) 2007

Adept communicators? Intelligent? Highly effective decision makers?...Name me any of those qualities that any of these politicians possesses. Something good to put on a resume but this is the real world muh fuckah. Straight Up!

Yeah! Yeah! Of course I'll be on time, I will never miss a day! Don't believe in it! I believe in being loyal to your employer. Very effective communicator with years of customer service experience. Complaints? Never!...Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah!

Then you get the job, what does your silly ass do? "Yeah, this is Meredith! Yeah, I'm not going to be in today, I'm sick." Fuck it! If my Black ass is sick, it stands to reason I'm callin in sick because I'm...well...sick! Damn! Didn't you tell me upon hire I have ten of those muh fuckahs? Then, I'm sick! Pay up muh fuckah! Rhetoric will have that ass paying my black ass for my ten sick days this year, that they say you shouldn't take! Fuck that! And don't forget about the two weeks of paid vacation my Black ass gets either! You gave me the job and I know my parameters. Pay me my damn money for my sickly and vacationed ass! Please, help a brothah out! Am I the only one that sees shit the way that I'm seein it?

Rhetoric! Good lord! All that talkin and muh fuckahs end up every time, like a muh fuckah in the hood walkin up on a fool and bustin 'em in the mouth or poppin ah cap in that ass, these muh fuckahs in Washington D.C. are no different, "Fuck it! Let's go to war!" Ain't that what they do out on the street, "Fuck talkin! Time to lay some bones and lay a lot of lead! Cause muh fuckahs ain't listenin!" And they puttin us in jail because we're mimicking their abhorrent behavior?

We tell our children not to fight; Be of good will; Try to talk things out; You shouldn't be puttin your hands on anyone... And what does this US of Assholes do every fuckin time? They bring on the war cry and have other US of Assholes backin 'em, "Fuck with this talkin shit! Those sand niggers and chink bastards aren't listening. We need to go to War! We need tah kick some ass!" The fuck! Is a muh fuckah missin somethin? The year 2007 and this the best the supposedly "Richest country and the most civilized on this planet," has to offer this world? Shit, we ain't no damn children! That, "Do as I say, not like I do!" Don't wash with grown folks! Shiiiit! While yah playin! If these Assholes ain't gonna put up! Then shut the fuck up! Cause our asses livin in troubled times, the real fuckin world. Give a muh fuckah some leeway here. If you can do it, so should we all. And don't punish my Black ass because I'm mockin your so-called guidance of righteousness. Yao Ming?