He coops with a spliff ….& a lighter in his hand

Lighting up the pain, inhaling his regrets

Exhaling smoke in the air, letting off a little steam, Like a chimney

He slowly withers like a dying rose in a snake infested garden

Sipping on hennessy, drinking to satisfaction

Overdosed on insanity, while confronting his demons

His body dead

but his mind ….still in existence.

I want to open the four walls within your mind
And discover what keeps you awake at night
Even if it takes all night I want to get lost just as unbound as you are
So we can redefine and classify what is different
And seep deep into thought of the collective unconscious
I want to understand your world and grow with your spirit
Collaborate with your dreams and help you achieve it
I want to be the last girl you sleep with
And the first heart you cherish
I’d do all this, just to grasp the figure that stands before me
You
With patience and perseverance
I want to open those four walls within your mind and discover what keeps you awake at night

Emotions broken into tears
From the hurricane her delicate eyes produced
As it drowned her confidence, rescuing the situation still at hand
Her light brown, oval shaped, appealing, yet deceiving eyes transformed into the windows that hid her soul
Trapped
Into the mind of insanity and the body of vulnerability
Only her eyes, those small, agony eyes held the silent words of reason
Unspoken
Her mouth became of no use as an organ for her enclosed windows could only free the explanation of this expression
The anger in her eyes were like oceans that rise as the waves destroy what’s at sea
Her body
Those eyes saw what blind men feel, searching for what cannot be recognized
As she drowns in sorrow, her life, the cornea shrinks
She escaped

I like when you hold and touch me

when you say the right things just to make

the problem at hand not feel so terrifying

I hate how you look at me sometimes as if I’m not what you expected

or you walk away from a situation still in existence

I like when you text me good morning and kiss me before the sun meets the moon

I enjoy the stupid jokes you make and how you make fun of my nose

I hate how you’ve become secretive, it makes me doubt the feelings you once had

I hate how you sometimes listen to your friends, forgetting they don’t know me like

you do

I like your smile, and those pearly whites you hide when you try to be serious

I like those eyes you look at me with and how you undress me with them and see

whats within

I like your hands and how they touch me with such gentleness and comfort

If the good out weighs the bad, you are my imperfect, perfect, lover

But if the bad wins, you are my worst pleasure

I don’t know… I feel like I have all these goals, dreams, and things I want to do, I just don’t know where to start or how to go about it. I think that’s why some people don’t go after their goals and dreams because they just don’t know where to start. It scares me, can’t lie. I feel like I have everything; the passion for it, the love, the confidence, the motivation, but I just can’t let it happen because I have no clue to. It’s like I have the mental but not the physical. Then the emotions come in. You can’t do everything alone, you do need someone, whether a friend or a spouse or whatever but you do NEED someone. I think that’s what my challenge will be this year, to trust and put my goal into action. It’s true though, fear what you don’t know and that’s what I’m fearing, what I don’t know how to do or what to do about it. I guess that’s the obstacle I have to try and overcome… Damn that’s going to be tough but at the end it’s what you over come that makes you stronger right? Well it really depends on how you deal with it so the outcome can either break you or make you. I don’t know, I guess I just need to be out there, in a good way. I open minded mentally but not much see it physically I guess. I just want to be somewhere different and kind of start from scratch you know….

I looked at this new year and I questioned it. I questioned if it was finally going to be my time to shine, if it was going to being me more good than bad or if it was just another year. I realized things can only be different if you do it yourself. You cant always depend on people to make that change, change has to happen by you taking that step. thing with me is I’m all about change, positive change that is but I just struggle with what steps to take and who to talk to and where to go and all these thoughts in making this plan go forward just cloud my head. But I’m beginning to realize that you got to approach things using stepping stones. we walk with steps, we don’t leap to get to the other side, that’s how we miss all the experiences and rewards when we try to meet a certain standard or need the “fast way”. 2011 was… a year I really don’t think I will forget. It showed me a lot, created new scars but also healed a few others. I can’t say I don’t regret anything but what I can say is I’m not ashamed. It hurts from time to time but in the end the only thing left to do is grow through what you go through. I hope this year is full of inspiration, strength, wisdom, smiles, laughs, and a few tears for joy will always come with a little pain. And i also learned that pain and bad memories will only last as long as YOU keep them there. Letting go and Letting God is hard for me to do but again I’m learning and soon enough ill master it. 2012 might be a new year with the same shit, but not me. Its a new year, and more growth. you can only stay stuck in your ways if you keep yourself there. At the end of the day you got this power called self power and control. you really do make your own choices, the thing/things you cant control is others reactions and choices. live and grow. the motto: ambition. associate with people who have the solution, not the same problem.

I hate hypocrites. I don’t see the point in someone tell me to do something or act a certain way, yet they don’t follow what the preach. WHY?! its all unnecessary, I don’t understand. and excuses for why they went against what they preached is just plain STUPID, again WHY its unnecessary. your caught the only choice you do have is to tell the truth and be honest, gheezz! this is why i don’t talk to much people. I cant trust. yes, typical, TRUST ISSUES. well i got em.. soo? hypcrites just make it even more an issue. if i cant trust your word or see that you lead in example, how am i going to have respect for you and trust you do as you say? I wont. and after all this, they still lie! after you first lie failed you make another, what the hell. pointless. i discovered the cycle. first you a hypocrite, then a liar, then a compulsive liar and trust just goes downhill from there. fcuk holes. i dont know what people lie or act a certain way. freal i don’t judge the more you be open and honest to me and do as you say, the more respect and trust i will gain in you. but nooo some people just have to give this unncecessary stress and end up leaving people in the state of mind that they cant trust people. ughh fcuk people, fcuk em all, no intercourse. im so tired, shit i just want to graduate and see a new life a new milestone. after being with the same people for so long you just question. its been for friggin years and all now you still havent growed up. wow i wonder how they will survive the world beyond these walls of pope. oh well i probably wont see them after next year anyway. so ill just do the best i can with the next couple months i have left.

Momma’s cooking was the BEST ! She could even make boilded water taste good. My favourite dish was her famous oxtail and rice and peas. Oh my, the way she would add enough seasoning and a hint of browning give the meat flavor and a little color. and that little mild taste of pepper to complete the taste was amazing! I felt like man, this food was the way to my heart ! and that’s just the meat alone ! The rice just complimented the oxtail. My mom would boil the peas till they got soft and then add the rice and mixed it with a hint of coconut milk…. sweet jesus, my tongue got a taste of heaven ! and the smell, oh my the smell would just draw your attention ! It smelt like we were in Jamaica at the finest restaurant having highclass food ! and to top off everything she made carrot juice. oh goodness, this meal felt like an award. the way my hands would grip the folk and knife as soon as she places the food in front of me. i was such a savage. and how the heat would rise from it with the smell following along. I took one bite and i felt like i was in that nest tea commercial. you know the one where they drink nest tea and fall into a pool ? thats exactly how i felt but this was heaven, i was falling into a heaven of moist, soft, well put together oxtail and rice and peas. oh and the feeling my tummy gave was satiafaction. you know itwas good food when you get sleepy after. yup that was the side effect of a meal made will time, evfort, and love. Momma’s cooking made you get emotional. it was better than my first love.

Rough, dry, blistered, indicated a hard days work

The cuts and bruises on his hands all told some story

They were big like my imagination, brown like coconuts, wrinkled from

the side effects of old age

They were strong though, for they led me a long way

Grandpa lived a rough life, picking cotton for the crackers

But he never complained, even though the wounds on his hands

were a cry for help and care

I remember the dirt under his nails showed the long journey he went through

His hands had more emotion than his face

They held answers without having to read or to write

His hand shake alone would tell you if he liked you or not

A firm grip means he was fond of you

A stern tight one meant he wasn’t to sure

I remember I use to trace the lines embedded in his hands…

They were dark as if someone tried to outline them, it was probably

the dirt

One day we were walking down this dirt road that had a lot of houses

own by the white people

When he took my hand in his, I felt such a sense of security

His hands were his best form of protection

They also had a voice

As we were walking along this dirt road, a couple whites were up ahead

I didn’t notice but as he gripped my hand, I knew trouble was near

That grip meant stand behind me for trouble had arrived

We continued walking

as they got closer Grandpa’s grip got stronger

He formed a fist in the other hand

As they walked past us, they just looked at his fist and continued on

their way.

His hands had power I tell you and history too

After this was when grandpa’s hands really spoke out

and that’s why I’m able to tell you this story today

For a slaves voice was through his actions