To Impress The Sun

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Everything has been done before.
Everything.
Life, love, sex, depression, death,
Anger, reflection,
Knowledge, wisdom, and understanding.
Done.
The Sun has seen it all and heard enough stories.
I couldn’t surprise Him if I boasted I could grab the moon and place it anywhere I pleased.

I have the audacity to believe I can impress Him–
That I can gain the approval of someone I cannot look in the eye.
In search of a way to boldly go to someone who can humble me anytime He sees fit,
Especially when I know I deserve it
The notion, in itself, is arrogant and daunting.


Maybe I’ll narrate during the evening
When He calls it a night.
So I can concentrate without being under His thumb.
He is always over my shoulder.
He calls it guidance
I try to embrace that definition.
But agitation arises like noon
Casting the longest shadow of inadequacy.

I want to sway a being that has planets following Him like small children.
Whose reach is measured in time.
And despite my confusion, I believe I can
Because He gave me the ability.

So when my story is complete
When the denouement is finished.
I will give it to the Sun to read.
I am sure He will add it to His prized collection.


Peace.

The Next Thirty Days (Journey With Lyric)

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It’s been sixty (technically, sixty-one, counting today) since my guitar, Lyric Roxxanne arrived on my doorstep. After the first thirty days, I streamed my thoughts via Twitter. And rather than bombard timelines again, I figured I would sort this set of thoughts here in my personal space.

Where to begin? I’m still not very good at it. I am struggling with having clearance between strings. Because of that, I don’t consistently get a clean sound when strumming. Then, there is the strumming process. I am not very accurate at picking all the correct strings every time.

In addition to that, I only have a few chords committed to memory: two forms of G, C, E, Em, Cadd9, and Cmaj7. I have them learned, but not applied. That means there is hesitation when changing the chords, resulting in missed or unpressed strings.

I realize it is a process to learn. I also realized that the patience I need to maneuver through life is the same I need for Lyric. I tend to want to know and be good at everything so quickly. I want answers immediately, if not sooner. I tend to look at my fingers and feeling inadequate, despite recognizing them beginning to stretch and be more comfortable on the guitar. I have to embrace the journey and growth that will happen while I learn this beautiful instrument.

I need to change Her strings.


Peace.

Eyewitness

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From what I observed,
The victim got what he deserved.
In front of my eyes,
I witnessed the most passionate crime.
Through a flawless assassination,
He brought an end to aspiration.
I watched the execution take place
With a look of justification on my face.
Yet, suicidal was my acceptance.
The villain was so smooth and effortless.
He crept in like doubt,
Knowing where to hide out.
Right in the shadows of the sun,
From the place his plot first begun,
The killer arises.
And with perfect timing,
Committed in total silence.
A swift, but painful act of violence.
His deed is completed.
The slayer has retreated…
The slayer has retreated.
His deed is completed.
A swift, but painful act of violence,
Committed in total silence,
And with perfect timing.
The killer arises
From the place his plot first begun–
Right in the shadows of the sun.
Knowing where to hide out,
He crept in like doubt.
The villain was so smooth and effortless;
Yet suicidal was my acceptance.
With a look of justification on my face,
I watched the execution take place.
He brought an end to aspiration
Through a flawless assassination.
I witnessed the most passionate crime
In front of my eyes.
I got what I deserved,
From what I observed.

That is what happens when I even think of letting my dreams be deferred.


Peace.

Heaven’s Destruction

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I want to repay my debts

Atone for my sinning

I am a fucked up man

Undeserving of every good thing ever been given.

To me, I am not worthy of begging for forgiveness

Nothing about me warrants another chance

So I grovel for repentance, wishing divinity would listen.

Rather, give my selfishness a pass

How did I ruin Heaven?

I nearly destroyed Zion.

How did I bring desolation to perfection?

Now just look at what I have done



Paradise in decay

Despite guilt being removed from my soul

However, there is still pain

It is struggling to remain whole

Mortality and its flaws revealed

Watching the destruction I have created

I pray God shows mercy and still wants to build

Because that would leave me devastated.



Peace.

Learning The Guitar

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I’ve decided to learn the guitar

Not to be one of those dudes in the park

Strumming along in hopes of finger-picking my way into lady parts

Another reason.

Other than most of the meals I’ve eaten,

All the Super Mario Brothers on Nintendo.

And (insert name of liquor)

There aren’t too many things I’ve finished that were not necessary

Saying, “I’ll get to that later.”

I have countless poems, paintings, song lists on various media players,

Feelings of attraction, paling hearts, souls, emotions, all waiting

Wasting away because I was too afraid to commit.



Even with things I already had knowledge of

Things I was good at.

Ya know, “artsy” stuff.

Drawings and coloring books gathering dust,

The ability to love and gain another’s trust

Cast aside because I chose not to stay disciplined

“Oh, that will be there when I return.”

“Oh, she’ll like me even though I give her affection on my terms.”

Placing life on pause like some sort of game.

Toying with intimidation, playing it as boredom

Knowing deep down I was completely afraid of completion.

But not this

Once I get my hands on this instrument and place my ten to her six

I will be her apprentice

Submitting to her stringed will because I don’t know shit

About her

But there’s something about her

The depth she gets on her own power

No extension cords. Just progressive ones

The pain I’ll feel in my hands will be a respectful one.

I’ll be memorizing the alphabet in another language

Our conversations will be horrible until I master her speech patterns

I’ll marvel at her appearance until that happens



I love her beauty enough to engrave it into my spirit.

Be as understanding of her soul as she is of mine when I hear it

She soothes me

Easing my unknown in a way so I no longer fear it.

That’s what ailed me

Being scared of investing time in something not knowing the outcome.

Undone projects, deeds, and heartfelt

“I like you’s”

Sitting in a pile marked “Never Will Become”

I won’t do that with her

I will finish what I’ve begun

See something develop that I started because I chose to do it

Even though, I get the feeling she did the choosing.

Once I caress my acoustic

Despite the truth that I’m going to be terrible at it for a long time

For once in my life

I’m gonna stick through it



Peace.

Tears For A Clown

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This is to the funniest person I have ever known.

He who had a joke for every situation

Through careful observation.

With such comedic timing, it is no wonder he was not on someone’s TV show.

Funny ran through your veins, muscles and skin. Not just a bone.

Naturally gifted at turning straight faces smiling.

Lighting up room with a mind and wit like Midas that whatever subject it touched turned to gold.

Though we only shared one parent’s chromosomes

There was nothing half between us.

Our love was whole.

Our blood, our souls kindred

We were so close that it was easy to tell we were brothers despite never living in the same home.

Whenever you sit around with the heavenly host,

Lift their moods if they become as sad as I am that you are home.

Be able to help them carry the burdens in their hearts if they ever get like mine now

Weighed down like the heaviest stone.

Every time you did something hilarious

We would laugh and then feel like we had not laughed enough

With you no longer here,

You still stayed true to your craft, because now my heart is cracking up.

This comes off selfish, I know.

Because I unashamedly being that

And yes, I understand that when He calls you, you have to go.

But in my mind I have a right to, at least, wonder why He summoned you so…

So…

Soon…

Why now? Why you?

Can I just hear one more story you told?

One inside joke so my insides know that with every tragedy there is comedy

So I can chuckle until in stitches then use those to sew my heart whole

Laughing as my tears flow.

To the funniest person I know.

I will see you later

Have a good time with the Creator

And make sure you share all of our favorite jokes.



Peace.

Train Ride

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In the stillness of outside silence
The chatter of noise can be heard
A group of people on a busy train, comfortable as they ride and
immersed in their own perspectives as they are chauffeured.

There is a small boy running around screaming
Then he returns to laughter after wiping his eyes from tearing
In another pair of seats is a logical debate on reason
Right behind them, is a man reading, trying to remain modest.
One man quoting out a book of history
Another reciting a Shakespearean sonnet
A wannabe scientist hypothesizing his theory
And in the back, a man too emotional to be concerned with speaking
All combining to make the train car audibly chaotic.


Some are excited about how far the train has gone
Some are complaining, saying the end is taking too long
Though the naysayers can be annoying and appear to be destroying the pleasantness of the ride,
No need to ask them to step off because though they have no control over the train’s movement, they add just enough caution to my cause

As crazy as this may seem
There is method to this madness
As crazy as I may seem
I encourage this deranged approach to sanity.
They are like inmates that inhabit this mobile asylum
No matter the time of day or night, I-the conductor–can listen to
His riders engaged in loud discussions.
I would never quiet them.
If there were no one aboard, the drive would be miserable


If I get them all on one vehicle
One mode of transportation
Their conversations and bickering
Would somehow aid me in reaching my destination.
Though the locomotive goes over long distances
The motive for them is more local than they think
I conduct them
But they are how I function and think

Confusion to consensus
Anarchy to Agreement
Exchanging of separate ideas they don’t even know are being used to fuel their daily travels.
Busy trains are the most profitable
These consumers make my mind lucrative
Without them, my psyche would consume me.
Their patronage is needed.

Every day I open the doors at the terminal
Determined to have them aboard to keep my brain serviceable.
It is worth it to have these voices ride
My train of thought
Without them, I hate to think what I would turn into


Peace.

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