Thursday, April 22, 2010


we live in a time
where apathy is welcome
with open arms
compassion thrown by the wayside
Corinthians said without love
we are nothing at all
but the love is dying
all to feed our foolish pride

the state of the world
is failing fast
at this rate, we won't last
much longer than this
we'll cease to exist

can we get back to the genesis?

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Michael Joe

His given name was Michael Joe
from the 219 area code
the seventh of nine, but showed
immense talent at 6 years old...
Raped of his childhood
and completely misunderstood
without the foundation that could
keep him grounded in Hollywood...

Surviving everything the world
could throw at him and more
he continued to spread his love
and gift for the language of music
doing his part to make the world
a better place for you and me
and the entire human race...

However futile his efforts were,
due to the greedy nature of said world
only looking for the next minstrel show
to entertain their sorry souls,
true artistry never dies.

Michael inspired a generation
of artists and singers and musicians
to make music for the soul
Regardless of his behavior,
No one can ever deny his artistry...

It's sad that we don't miss our water
until the well runs dry...
and we don't appreciate genius
until it's too late.

I could speak for hours about
how Michael inspired my life,
how his music got me through some tough times
how he inspired practically every modern artist
how he broke barriers
how misunderstood he was...

Lyrics that read like poetry
and melodies that reel you in,
he had an extraordinary gift.

There will never be another like him.

So, I salute you Michael Joe.
I pray that you are in heaven,
moonwalking through the pearly gates
and I pray that it is everything
you hoped the world would one day be.

Rest In Peace.


Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Lost In Translation, part deux

could it be that you hold
the key to my soul
and i never knew it was gone?
or are you the one
whose mere presence begun
my descent into lover's dawn?

all i know is whenever i see you
my throat gets dry
words immersed in my mind get confused
all i can do is stand
idly patient...

...lost in translation

can barely stand it
palms are sweaty, and it
never ends; damn it
wish i could've planned it
she's like a bandit
took my heart and vanished
proverbially damaged
i can hardly manage
i can't explain it
supernova painted
into human form
"woman" he named it
taken from the rib
of man so she could give
him life
but i can't live
until she is my wife...

all i know is whenever i see you
my throat gets dry
words immersed in my mind get confused
all i can do is stand
idly patient...

...lost in translation

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Hood Dreams

ambitions and goals shattered
in the alley way, scattered
amongst the glass and plastic platters
discarded with the garbage...

what matters
most in this neighborhood is survival
where police are the resident rivals
pastors pack pistols with their bibles
and kids become hood dream disciples
thugs and drugs fill the high schools
and most don't give a rodent's mule
ignoring the fact they look the fool
by any means necessary is the rule...

a different world where I come from
down the street beats a different drum
blocks from the riches lies the slum
influencing the man I've become

as the young male protagonist
I constantly wished for a life better than this
world of poverty and potential lives amiss
steady striving to escape the abyss
to prevent being a product of my environment
I dedicated hours and days and weeks spent
to hitting the books and avoiding the hint
that my life was here and was never meant
to leave this hood, this block, this crew
of like-minded morons without a clue
of a life outside the hood, with a view
of a alley, a jail cell, or casket blue...

So I did whatever I needed to do
To remain one of the non-statistic few
To rise up with dreams to pursue
Cause the only way out is the way through...

Sunday, May 24, 2009


I just can’t shake you
You’re in my system
I’m feenin’ for your touch
My future’s looking dim
At times, I hate you
But you make me feel so good
You rape me of my senses
Doin’ things I never thought I would

I can’t breathe
you withdrew my oxygen
Going twelve rounds
knowing I can’t win…

You're my inebriate...

Take me high, then release
I am lower than before
Still, I long for that feeling
The one I can’t ignore
I try to get away
But you always pull me back to you
The fact that I stay
Is what I can’t construe

I’m drowning
in a pool of my dismay
Frustrated yet,
and still I always stay

I gotta shake you...

- Words from my 19 year old self.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

AbrĂ³ Los Ojos...

Apparently I ain’t shit…

According to the repeated
phrase continuously said by the defeated
female persuasion, I needed,
along with all other males, to be treated
like fecal matter seceded...

Was I the one that hit and quit it
movin’ on without a thought
or a whim, unafraid to get caught
up in the imminent drama sought
by the sister/cousin/brother/mother brought
into the situation by the scorned
woman whose heart was worn
on her sleeve? No.
Yet the stamp of disapproval awaits
me before I even get my words straight
to introduce myself, let alone make
my attempt at the request for a date...

I’m the type of fellow who opens doors
and considers your feelings before
his own, who isn’t looking for more
whenever his duckets cover the bill, or
encouraging the bartender to pour
you into my bedroom door...
You think my kind only explore
the pages of a child’s folklore,
and it’s true we are a dying breed,
but I stand tall for my fellow steed
in announcing our need
for that special mare...

I’m not that brother standing in the corridor
with the fresh kicks, promising Dior
and monetary possessions galore
not knocking if that's what you aim for
it’s all good, but be prepared to pour
yourself a glass of what you abhor...
because with the kicks come kicks
black eyes, bruises, stones and sticks
and words can hurt rather quick
Many a treat has been a trick
whether its mental or physical nicks
what glitters isn’t always gold...

you won’t begin to realize
the difference between real and disguise
Until you open your pretty brown eyes
and see that this caterpillar flies...

...until then,
I ain’t shit.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Before The Day

I never knew what love was
All I'd had was empty feelings
My existence full of loneliness
Consequences of my dealings

So why is it that I feel no pain
When I look into your eyes
Why has my mind removed disdain
And my soul release its cries

I never felt this way before the day slipped away
As if tomorrow decided to play with yesterday
Our love washed away all my pain and past debris
It's because of you that I am free to see the joy within me

It's the sheer joy of your presence
That has bandaged my despair
Cradled away my imperfections
That I assumed beyond repair

Released the torment from my life
Filling the void with your kiss
Never had I ever experienced
A feeling such as this

I never felt this way before the day slipped away
As if tomorrow decided to play with yesterday
Our love washed away all my pain and past debris
It's because of you that I am free to see the joy within me...