My Radio is my girlfriend

It talks to me when I’m lonely and I listen.

When my psychologist ask me if I ever feel like the radio is talking directly to me, I say, “Yes!”

I’m missing something without it.

My radio is my girlfriend, we don’t argue or fight, and when there is something on that I don’t like, I just turn the knob.

A customer came to do business one day.

He turned off my radio.

I gave him an odd look and said, “Fool, have you lost your mind? Do I go to your establishment and touch things that don’t belong to me? Touching my radio is like smacking my mother, don’t do it or we will be enemies!”

I then got up to turn my radio back on and proceeded with business.

I nearly lost my mind witnessing another man touch my woman without consent.

I had to put up a sign letting the next man in line know that,

“My radio is my girlfriend, she’s all that I have left, and only I can touch her.”

My radio is my girlfriend.

33 degrees of chaos

I sat in the crowd and watched.

Gena told me they wanted to be like him, the man who controlled everything.

All of them jumping off of their mountain of power.

I sat in the crowd and watched.

Horns dripping with black tar while they all danced around their pray drinking blue blood.

Johnny told me they’d been watching our every move.

I sat in the crowd and watched.

In the distance, I noticed a doctor handing out pain pills.

Green and blue haired dolls hanging on walls in rooms filled with weed smoke just to feel a breeze.

Suzan told me that the founders had sex with their slaves.

I sat in the crowd and watched.

Dangling from the ceiling, I noticed a black woman with blond hair with very good dialect reporting about the chaos.

Then I heard a drunk man screaming help me Lord.

Lisa told me to feed the machine because the casino owners don’t like it when you don’t play the games.

I sat in the crowd and watched.

Standing on top of a White House I noticed fireflies blinding pilots, they landed the plane on its side.

Sparks of nuclear fusion in executives drinks for diplomacy.

Nate told me that it’s the overload that trips the breaker.

I sat in the crowd and watched.

Cry Emit, mommy’s gone, pray David, the sky is falling. That rap beef is for you to eat.

Stretching my thoughts I saw 33 levels.

They reached in the crowd and asked us to climb.

Noticing everyone drowning in black tar around me I began to spin at a 360 degree angle noticing rockstars.

Dizzy, I pretended to be drunk and merry while everyone else kept partying in the chaos.

Limping and feeling lightheaded from spinning, my vision was not clear. 

My friend Moses felt obligated to save me.

That’s when I noticed a half naked woman dancing on a golden calf.

Tripping over someone, reaching for a higher level, I saw a white man and a black man with red hats on that read “up to MAGA Mania” and down to “LIBERAL  utopia” while washing the feet of a goat.

Dripping in chaos, I was no longer in the crowd because the action soon came down to my level.

Before I entered the madness, a poor man tried to sell me a food stamp card. Did he know something that I didn’t? Did the golf cart have a flat tire?

Realizing that I spent my last dime to get in the party, I noticed high ranking officials hiding under the White House, in the distance, while a very wealthy man put his stamp on everyone’s money just to figure out a treasury secret, I couldn’t help but notice an elephant hugging a polar bear while eating the flesh of a donkey.

All the while, he fed the electric machine on wheels as the builder’s son continued to entertain the crowd feasting off of their egos. 

Falling to the ground, I realized that I’d hit my head. I could hear pastors in the distance preaching the gospel of sheep’s and shepherds as I stood alone dressed in black.

Realizing that I could not move, I’d become a victim, knocked out, dreaming of rainbows.

After the chaos was over, I woke up in a hospital only to receive a medical bill that I couldn’t afford because I burned the tree of knowledge and was banned from the garden in an attempt to afford the healthcare.

Everyone thought I’d died in a world hanging flags upside down.

At that moment, I learned my lesson, and my dream of a stress free life was actually a chaotic trap that I fell into over and over again. And there I laid with no clothing on dripping in crude oil and it’s many substances. 

I graduated from 33 degrees of chaos and ran in 360 degree circles while my friends drank the punch and ate the food while watching the shows on their handheld devices. In the end they were all diagnosed with fatal diseases and a few of them jumped off of Mt. Rushmore. The rest watched me get crucified for following the rules. None of us escaped because of our birthright contracts so actually we all played our part in the union game created by scholars who also thought they had the answers to the test that were all funded by the same Department of Education. In the end, our lawsuit ended in the same court that created the death penalty and there wasn’t enough money left for us to bailout the president who pardoned us.

33 degrees of chaos.

The King who fell in love with peace

She was calm.

When he looked her in the eyes he immediately fell to one knee for he saw what war did to his children and his people.

“They’re traumatized, drugged, and they have few limbs left. The land that we called home is no more,” these were the words he spoke to his new bride.

With wings the span of ten fields she took his ring. 

“Great King, I want you to travel West for God has a plan. No King has ever surrendered everything he has to me, but you have given it all. Your castles, your palaces, and your life. For that, I will make you the greatest King of all. My sisters and brothers have prepared a room for you to watch your enemies and because you fell in love with peace we want you to watch them choose war to prove who is greater. In the end because you chose peace, God will give you generations of wealth and abundance with the power to build. Great King, everything we touch will be blessed.” At that moment the King kissed his bride and they became one for his enemies blew each other up and fell victim to war’s wrath. None of them survived.

Standing with his bride watching on top of Mt. Olive, the King’s flesh then grew weary, but his spirit and soul grew stronger. God healed everything and as he rose with strength he saw great knowledge and streets of gold. He saw life with no end. He saw heaven on Earth.

All because he was the King that fell in love with Peace. 

Happy Heart ❤️ Day, put down your weapons and fall in love with peace.

Be Mine

Here’s a gift,

As we eat at the table til death do us part,

Here are some flowers straight from my heart.

There will be many assisting us on this life long journey, but in the end we might find ourselves alone.

Even in our ambitions, some friends may become enemies and intimate relationships will fail over and over again…

Sadly, a lot of faces that began with us will not be around in the end.

Our actions we do regret, our life long lessons that we must mend. Our successes that teach us that if we fail at love we can still be friends.

Lessons while we’re out searching for what we feel we need, when honestly it’s right at home, but we’re tested the most when we’re freed.

On our quest for love, while standing in the mirror, walking through this journey called life, we learn that loneliness is a monster that even we too must fight.

We can conquer the world, but deep inside even that is never enough for it teaches us that the road to love is tough.

Be mine, and we can grow together in a world of trouble falling down like rain from the sky. Please take my offer, don’t be shy. We can rekindle the fire, handing out love tokens in our promise to stay together and never be alone.

When I’m down searching for love will you be the one to pick up the phone?

Be Mine

My Rhymes & I

A month of chocolates, presidents, and historical truths, here’s some love stories filled with rhymes and reasons, in hopes of some sunshine to change the season. A lyrical exercise for you and me from a past life filled with girls and grief.

My first girlfriend welcomed me into kindergarten, but technically we never were really together so I guess we were just friends. I ended up getting transferred to another school. Waiving goodbye, I wrote a nice rhyme as a ritual to ease the attraction. I had to move on and learn my divided fractions. 

My second girlfriend didn’t like me because I never truly committed, she got caught doing some nasty things with another guy in the seventh grade. When she took my soul I wrote a rhyme as a ritual to get it back. I still see her around town at times. The more time I spend with my rhymes the more the sun shines. Thumps up.

My third girlfriend was my high school sweetheart, I didn’t want her to waste her life serving a sailor who was pressed between life and death all of the time so I let her off easy, but she put up a fight, slippery and greasy. Seeing our relationship end because we both gave our life to serve and defend the constitution of the United States took me back to the pen and the pad. I wrote a rhyme as a ritual to get me through the war on terror. I also wrote a rhyme to help me let her go. It’s all good, I smiled at my first poetry show.

As for my next few girlfriends, I must say that once I became a citizen again and found myself in deep devotion to God and family, I married one of them which resulted in a divorce that was tragic. It’s very hard to serve God and bond with females that are not on equal paths, but lesson learned. Play with fire and get burned. At the end of the day I got over it, I wrote a rhyme as a ritual to lift me back up. My rhymes are my delight easy not tough. 

Fresh in the mix came presidents whom as a soldier I had to serve. I wrote rhymes to heal the pain of the towers falling. My rhymes are satisfying, food for my soul. Magnificent, like conquering foes.

During black history month, always in search of genuine love, I wrote rhymes that could bring people together. On a bad day, I desire a good rhyme or two. The words are like magic, they give me strength. Like power to the tenth that’s long generational length. Pure thoughts with no hemp.

To a day comes two and to life comes an eternal walk, and yes, I walked on water before testaments were written so in my rebirth I write rhymes to uplift the world. I’ve walked the earth in 360 cycles so I’m reborn to save. I raise human life straight from the grave. Dear friends and family in which I live on by name, I say that death is a con of the force that fears those who speak life. So every time you write a rhyme make sure you check it twice. Reaching into my word bag, I conclude, that my disciples are not drunks and thieves, they are those who rebuild and speak life like planting seeds. My rhymes are rituals not evil cunning spells and just like the God that’s in me I free souls from hell. So in the end as I rebirth I ask who am I? I am that I am so it’s just me my rhymes & I.

The Worker

 The moment Jan clocked back in that’s when she knew she was healthy again.

“Hey Jan, great to see you back,” Tiny said.

“You look good Jan,” Vikki, her boss said.

Jan sat down at her desk, she’d been placed off of sick leave and was now back at work.

While sitting at her computer she just didn’t feel it anymore. She’d literally almost died and saw her entire life flash before her eyes in a car accident. With all the attention on her she got up from her desk and walked out.

“Jan, where are you going? I need you to run some errands,”Vikki said getting no reply from Jan.

And that was it. Jan took everything she owned and just for a thrill she sold it all just to start her own business.

I guess that’s what happens when you have a near death experience. You’re just not afraid anymore. Jan worked for herself, she now steered her own ship.

The Worker

Af·ro·cen·tric

 Cast aside refers to a child almost eaten in the jungle by wild animals because he or she was left alone in the wilderness with no choice but to fight his or her way to safety. He or she must outsmart those in the wild only to realize another challenge lies ahead. Bred in pain, suffocating in filth after witnessing a next of kin hanging lifeless from a tree. A symbol of life reflected in return as a gift in exchange for God’s mercy. Shots fired while screaming, “Kill the medicine man!” The fight bleeds through the skin of the bright albinism white, dark mocha black or brown color of the skin tones. Tormented, burning in the woods while your children and wife watch leaves a scar with a craving to escape a rich land tainted in blood and decaying flesh. Beaten and enslaved, sold out by your own natives while rotting away stacked in a hollow sounding ship. Babies lost in the fabric of time, left with a choice by a scorned mother neglected, sexually afflicted, and left to raise her child on her own. Innocent lives are lost in the jungle and those who make it out alive are forever haunted, some choosing never to return, and some left with no choice but to suffer alone in the scraps of starvation. Men dressed in black jackets preaching abandoned dreams of a promised land while truth seekers kneel at a burning cross executed like sheep with no shepherd. Yes, people drive around these parts because even with intellect, the screams heard in the middle of the night will bring the animal out of anyone. The concealed beast, haunted and drowning in third world sorrows. Planted like a seed on a dirty sidewalk while spraying a tarantula with roach spray. The funk of sweat dripping on dirty clothes, the constant cry for hope in fractured voodoo dolls, and the reality of being left to fight your way out of the pit of hell while running for the light at the end of a very long dark tunnel as those left behind drown sinking to the bottom of the ocean. 

To conclude this piece, the fact that many generations later all forms of God’s most prized creation are now choosing to join hands instead of fight is a miracle. Today’s fist of all colors are in the fight for peace even if it means dying in internal sleep only to be awakened by those lost in a dark past flying like stars in dark space or dancing to music while walking on water spreading their wings like angels in heaven while screaming holy, holy, holy, in the presence of a roaring lion being groomed by black panthers on top of ancient pyramids. This one vision gives future optimistic visionaries a sense of hope.

Af·ro·cen·tric