Remember The Love
Image From Get Rich or Die Trying movie
There’s a freedom that comes with letting your mind rampage and dream up chaos until the tension releases and you feel the calm after an orgasm.
Reality shows we’re all a little crazy. So, we let our mind wander and think we’re lost.
But everyone has a landmark. Remember the little things you like and bring back that happy inner child. Thats the dream we have to keep real, and the reality we must not kill.
The Players Prayer
With the silence of a windy night, rattling door handles and knocking belongings off dressers. Donnie rushed to his confession booth. Cut the lights, stripped then jumped in the shower.
With a jerking movement, he scrubbed off scents that spark intuition. Men have it too. It’s called fuck into forgiveness.
The steam and alcohol vapors transported him to his dream vacation. Face underneath a waterfall. The Lover- boy drown. Then he panicked, thinking about the mess left behind.
He began as all desperate do:
Lord, please help me divorce myself.
I AM SO TIRED of my shit.
Please Please Please get me through this. I promise to never do it again… IF YOU HELP.
Donnie heard a voice and became scared and weak.
He clutched his eyes tighter. Listening closer, the voice sounded eerily familiar.
He thought; is it my conscience telling me to stop ass-betting? A straight up loss, even if I win. Live men know only dead one’s gamble on skins.
The voice said, “Last chance to behave.” “This ain’t a self-improvement seminar, you don’t get to leave with a promise to change for better.
Donnie said “I know. But sinners knoweth not how to stop. It feels too good in the moment. And the only thing we can’t resist is temptation.
The voice said “wait a minute. I need you to elaborate.”
He opened his eyes and saw his wife.
The Killing Joke.
PART 1
Every man for himself. Thrive on survival. The type that brings “What woulda been” love. Memories and “What they could’ve been” talk.
Stars who hated practice, but played every game to miss births, and birthdays, and forced selfish celebrations, from bail, fulfilled sentences, funeral services and graveyard visits.
We’re told “life is hard”. But dead boys’ bodies feel… Thats too tough to talk about, and all I hold onto to keep me strong. They leave a life of revenge.
Their girls get bent over to raise bastards, who make mothers suffer, running away from being like their fathers, who didn’t like drama and criticized reality t.v. but made their own on sidewalks.
We’re asked, “couldn’t they take the straight path”?
What’s that?
A blunt?
A line of coke?
A dope line, round the corner?
A bed made by the coroner.
Some say I think like the lost generation, but they find a way to grab attention every day and we always pay for it.
Part 2
You a funny nigga.
Oh yeah? You find a joke to avoid truth. The real nigga is YOU.
PART 3
Help!
Bang! (gunshot)
Mannn… Help ya self.
Bang!
Daaannng! Why you so selfish?
Click!
Go head, Kill yaself man
Why?
Man can’t afford to be helpless.
Bang!
That’s what happens when you reckless.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!!!
Dearly Departed:
Visit your loved ones. Tell them don’t restart how it all started. Tell them to imagine what it means to be alive and live their dreams. Show them that making enemies one with nature ain’t as important as nurturing love.
Let’s Ride
If I say I love, you. I mean it at that moment. But we all know nothing lasts forever. So, don’t be upset when it ends because nothing lasts forever. We can’t survive on history, or our future will be the stop where we get off.
DIG IT
It hurts good. Contorting. Reaching down, deep. Hitting, scraping, banging against a wall would make lesser god’s stop. But I’m trying to decorate. I have designer paint
I’m a producing mother-fucker
I feel you loosening. Wobbly. A shakiness that makes me clutch instead of run. Sucking me in.
I hold you until we’re both wrecked. A pleasurable assault that earns me respect.
Angry Therapy
Art by Louie VanPatten
I
Am a nice guy.
My smile might turn dagger sharp in a minute. I want to hug you and might think how easy it is to hurt you and swear you’re thinking about hurting me.
I
Don’t know what you take me for. And I hate I never will. You can tell me whatever you want. I won’t believe you until I want to be satisfied.
I
Don’t know why you’re looking at me like I assaulted you, because now you’re making me think about assaulting you.
I
Am enlightened.
Also tired of feeling my mind explode into fireworks. Thoughts ignite words that flame relationships. Sailing, and fizzling from view until lost.
I
Am not always like this.
I promise. But I will be again. Just like you will embrace it. You want someone to fix. Suck and fuck away your patience and strength. You want an excuse to regret.
I
Am willing to give it without regrets. Until…
I
Am alone.
Always… Running away from a calling. Breaking curfew to hang with the few who accept what I AM.
Anxiety Society
Art by Alexis Barrett
Create beauty. Not anxiety that can be slid by. Laughed at, liked and popularized. But who cares? Pain pays.
My friend’s girl committed… last week. We don’t say the word. It makes us shiver. We discovered her body. It’s not the kind of surprise we celebrate. And we couldn’t tell if she was expecting it to end that way.
My friend was sad for a minute. Too long for those who didn’t have to wait, and sweat out nightmares, day ones too, at work and at school, where whispers, eyes with pointy lashes and fingers blamed and at home where parent’s, out of frustration for having to grow up fast on their own, want you to get back to being yourself, and push you away from their help.
Uhhh,,,
That was a breath full? Or, is a mouthful. Whatever it was, he told me, he had enough, and was afraid because.” They don’t come easy anymore”. “My body feels like it wants to get rid of something.”
Diary Entry #1…
Wait. What? Was that thought telling me?
Nah, nah, hold up.
Is this that thing the call depress…
Nobody wants to hear it.
Everybody wants to see the show.
Nah, nah, I’m too tuff. To raw. I remember when she let me go raw. She was sick a while after. But she said she liked it.
Did she really? Was she? She love me? She wouldn’t lie to me?
End of Entry…
Rumors…
Nah. No way she was pregnant. But they saying girls committing suicide is the new abortion.
Damn. I thought it was cool for men to be savages. To run women n’shiiiiiiit… Let boys tell it, women really like it.
But which ones? Who you listening to? The truth about a lie is everybody gets screwed. Twisted. And people would rather die than miss the opportunity to hurt you.
Diary Entry #2…
Damn. I miss her. I miss us. The old me.
Who else will.
Let’s see.
Die…
Just because you ignore your pain, don’t think your kids are alright. If their talking, eating, showering, sleeping less, or more, they might be screaming for help. Be their diary. It’s the hardest and most joyful part of being a parent.
Outshine dis-belief
My heart is aching. My confidence is skidding. Feels like I wiped the wrong way. My wife cries over me, and it has nothing to do with infidelity.
As much as I talk, you would think I have a doctorate of bullshit. Failure carries on like the stench of a urinal.
I’m learning to rank myself without gold. Success depends on my mettle and providing for the ones who I’m responsible.
Random Truth’s
Ain’t no loss like the one you cause.
People don’t pray out of love—only fear and despair.
Everybody thinks about getting away with murder.
You’re only a psycho around the wrong people, and if you get caught.
God loves to kill, just as much as life, and we are made in thy image (if you believe such things.)
Guns are like sex. When you bust, somebody is fucked.
One glance equals at-least three fantasies. (And if it didn’t now it will.)
Will power is for addicts.
Sensitive Men
What makes me so special? That’s what I wish my father told me. And he might have, but he wasn’t around to hold me to it.
Now I bore my kids with discipline and praise. But I catch all the feelings. Sometimes I drop the positivity, because reality shows the truth clear.
After I grew, created a family and learned forgiveness. I understood abandonment and it stopped being a trigger that made me want to hurt a ni-ahh, I abandoned that path.
Unless love and appreciation are not given, then my anger bubbles like an upset stomach. And everybody gets a taste of it.
DEAR DIARY
This fucker ain’t listening to me.
Don’t even care if she fucks me. I just want her to want me.
Started as a normal day. We held hands all the way home. We were gonna do it, but you said your” clock set off an alarm.”
You said you “were tired and needed to lay down”. You gave no clue it would be with a guy who could drive you around.
You had me running up my phone bill trying to re-connect. You said... I don’t even know-I can't even remember all the bullshit. Something sweet to hide the stench.
Damn... Girls have the best friends. Even the halfway ones don't tell the whole secret.
I was playing detective. Discovered you already had a private dick. You turned a tough guy into a pussy. I was barking at everyone and taking all your shit.
Trapped behind the wall you put between us. Your mother, your father, your brothers and sisters, even seemed fed up. They used to be nice to me. Used me. Made me like them when all I wanted was pussy. They helped change me into something I never wanted to be, besides inside you. A gentleman, but look where that got me
When your sister gets older, I’ll make sure were close. I don’t mean that. Unless… Nah. Nevermind. Explaining is useless.
Feels like i’m in a movie.
Where dogs get trapped when they roam. All the tail I was chasing I thought you would never know. He'll yeah, I loved you. Take me back and Ill fuck you like a hoe. That's what you want, ain't it???
He's 5yrs older. So, you learning all types a tricks. Fuck you. Fuck this.
But, just let me know if you’re ever lonely and just need a fucking friend.
Pandemic Entertainment
Your period piece was cool for a minute. Now I need to watch some aggressive killing in peace.
All your episodes are as long as a movie. You already know what happens. Love. Heartbreak. Sadness. Fakery. Fuckery, Suckery. Pantie soiling sluttery.
Don't ever get upset at my pornography. Ever again.
You been glued to another man seducing for 72 straight hours. The couch smells like clapping cheeks. You haven't been stripping for me.
You made it easy to read your minds. You know what men call Flix. Nevermind. Keep watching your show. I’ll be on the net. Taking my time finding instant gratification.
Well Damn
Everyone’s a pussy.
Everyone’s a dick.
Everyone’s masculine.
Everyone’s bitch.
How can a man say this?
It’s all internalized. Taught and injected.
But who gives a fuck?
You know that’s all we want.
Be open. Lay it all out.
We are supposed to teach each other.
You know. I know. I fail, to be retaught.
You can go if you don’t like it.
We all move similar when hyped in private.
Damned with love.
We do well off hate.
Overflow with belief. We are all we need.
AH
Late night.
When insomnia creeps. Giving extra time for a wasted day.
Now you’re tied to it and can’t blink it away. You think your strong because you suffer without complaining.
You think your weak because suffering ain’t bringing success. You think you should complain like the rest.
Become partners in struggle. Parting with original.
AH!
Anxiety.
The new Gucci. Expensive popularity.
The new wonder drug. With side FX of the ancients, to make men and women live centuries longer.
It’s called sex and being yourself.
Last longer. Come faster. Orgasm faster. Come stronger. Come harder.
AH.
We’re together now.
Each other’s blues. Happy times are mixed in. Let’s toast to forgiveness. Don’t worry about what I haven’t don’t yet. New days should leave old regrets.
ahh, finally. I’m falling asleep.
Staircase Confessional
Image from www.dreamstine.com
Where every Negro becomes a star from blasts that end good nights.
Pissing on the floor to track footprints.
Earning rank in hallways.
Roaches flicking each other from ashtrays, learning at our lowest and darkest to find a way.
A lesson in how to behave, how to survive, digging yourself deeper in trenches, when you rise, you become a ghetto wonder.
Hurting means you do good work. You just never recover.
——-
Alternate beginning.
——-
Where every Negro becomes a star from blasts that end good nights.
Whatchu mean? Fuckin, fistfights or gunplay.
Nah, I’m talking that dope fast food- have it your way.
Been Pimpin’
When you know what you got and what it's worth, it’s easy to sacrifice screwing it up. Cause you know how to get it back, said every wise man stupid enough to fall for temptation