Snow Love

Today I built a snowman with the snow that was left over. After witnessing my masterpiece, I then snapped a picture and sent it to the kids to remind them to find happiness in the snow. 

I shared my snow love.

The Noose

I want to warn you that this piece is graphic for a good reason.

Sadly, we must never forget a very very dark time in history. A time when there were no record deals, no shoe deals, no entertainment deals, no book deals, no freedom and most of all no justice. This Black History month on the first day we remember the darkest execution method known at that time when an owned slave was hung. No black on black crime, just the property of the master. To reflect, the reality is that you died from being hung with a noose. 

The loophole is where the head entered creating a yanking position around the neck and the long part of the rope was then tied to a sturdy piece of level surface. The rope tightens at the looped part cutting off circulation to the brain. At this point gravity pulls the body to its end.

To die in this form is a symbol of how brutal life can be when a person literally doesn’t matter or feels so isolated that they choose this method to die. Sadly, in the past, people who were brutally beaten into submission were hung just for being Black. This stain in history has led us to present day forming a hard historical memory that many would rather forget. Sadly, there was not much mercy in the past, many victims never saw or understood freedom. In present time many have not forgotten and in present day the rage has created an evil that is a symptom of hate that will probably never go away. 

The Noose

The Art of Work and Disagreement

Anger can work in a number of ways. There’s good and bad in everything.

A face is deceiving because there’s always something more going on in the inside of that smile. The mind is not a one way street and there are many lanes.

If someone is spreading rumors about you, that’s a good thing, get naked and deliver their mail but don’t hug their spouse.

Religion is no different from religious, beliefs are not science but there’s a science for everything and it’s okay to believe in God but in reality S***t happens.

If you dodge a bullet, invent a bulletproof vest, the odds will be even slimmer the next time and you’ll save more lives with your work. You can make a deal with like minded people. I tell you work is good.

A rich man is no different from a poor man, everyone is looking for work.

Unfortunate people believe in luck but a worker will find something to do with one arm.

If someone is murdered in front of you find Christ, you’ll need him every step of the way. Attend church until you see God because the image will never go away. Go to church become a preacher and preach about it so no one else will kill.

If you want to be a professional, learn that you never will and you’ll keep trying until it’s amazing.

The beauty is when you upset people. Piss them off, make them so angry that they want to kill you just for doing your job.

Lose, and when you lose make it look as if you’re the worst at what you do. Losing confuses winners because not too many people want to be around a loser. Then once you lose your position and sit the bench, coach a team to the championship. In the end everyone will love your story.

If you see a fat person hang out with them and take them to the gym after dinner. I promise you you’ll find a good friend. Skinny people and fat people can feed off of each other. Work is good.

If you want to kill yourself call someone first, as a matter of fact take a picture of yourself in a noose, then go to the gym and workout. I promise you’ll feel better later.

If someone has a mental disorder and has a hard time communicating, read them a book and cut their hair for them. It’s healthy to look good. A fresh new look is good for mental health.

If you’re shoveling snow with a snow blower and it blows on someone else’s car while driving down the road and they curse at you wait twenty years later when the economy crashes, eventually they’ll try to make extra money trying to shovel your snow for you. 

If you feel racist, go to a KKK meeting and shake their hands. Be presidential because if a war breaks out you never know who you may love after the battle is won.

If you’re black and lonely or white and lonely, find someone from a different nationality and marry them. It will get everyone’s attention. Hug him or her and kiss them in front of everyone, it will make them work harder, they will hate you more but they’ll eventually try it when they get hurt.

If someone close to you dies, stand on someone else’s grave when you’re visiting them at the graveyard. This will make their family get upset at you but it will increase the understanding of honor and respect. The other family will get upset and they’ll cry and complain. Once they settle down cut their grass and give them a gift card from a local gas station. Forgiveness will help us all live longer.

Always make people think that you’re crazy, they’ll never bother you. It will give you more quiet time at work.

If you’re nasty, make a song and tell people how you like it. They will act perfect but eventually they’ll try it.

If you make money, never save it, just pay the bills and set aside an emergency fund. Too much money draws too many problems.

When you’re on the toilet, think about work, the bathroom will make you too comfortable.

If someone is smarter than you and always working go make a few dollars trimming their grass. You’ll learn something, I promise.

And lastly, when you get upset with someone, call other people and tell them what you’re going to do to the person when you see them and then the next day send them a picture of you and the person shaking hands and fishing. It will make the work better and teach them the better half of work and disagreements.

Now smile for the camera, work is good.

Snow Power

Sadly, I don’t know all of the language that they speak in congress, but I know for sure that there are dangerous people in the world. Very dangerous. Today was a Sunday before twelve midnight here in Ohio and God allowed a winter storm that literally shut the entire community down but I still chose to work. I’ve stayed busy. As a man I know someday I will have to die on earth, sadly, we all have to die. Constantly watching the news I keep seeing people die. Locally people are dying. All my life I’ve seen people die. These past few weeks, I’ve been feeling my heart beat faster. It’s as though something is jumping in me to make me stronger and braver. I usually like looking at necked women from time to time but recently my blood has been flowing for action. There’s a small voice telling me to stay calm, all legs taste the same and too much of the flavor of leg juice even the thought of it can make you lose sight of what’s in front of you. My eyes have been burning and my body can’t sit still. When I see drunk happy people, I get angry. Get to work. The truth is we’re all afraid and those who’ve been sent in to battle have tried and tried to prevent more chaos. Ignorant of our own failures we’ve seen the dirty snow. The truth is we need to keep the war cage closed. Do not pray to the war Gods. Even physics cannot undo the damage brought on by bombs. A mentally ill leader can only dictate but there are some sick people beating the war drums. Talk to people who have been victims of war, brethren, I beg you, do not unleash these evil Gods. They show no mercy. The pain is slow and the victims suffer in cages wishing they’d took another path. Today I felt angry, in reality I’m brave, but I’m afraid of war. I’m human. No person, no living person I believe is made to die young. I honestly believe that something wants us to live. Being a victim of war my entire life I’ve become strong minded but the truth is I hate suffering. I train and I train so I never forget what it feels like to suffer. Seeing dirty snow today I shoveled and shoveled until my legs and arms got weak but I learned that if God wants a Sunday to himself with peace and quiet. I got the point. I stopped shoveling the dirty snow and went inside and listened to my audio bible. Something in nature which had to be God said sit down. Silence is peaceful now rest, go to sleep.

Snow Power 

The Winter Brawl

 Mountains of snow just kept falling. It was the first round and while shoveling I couldn’t help but remember my first argument in the parking lot. At this point I’d shoveled me a few lanes but the snow just kept coming. Headed into round two I saw my ex-wife’s face in the ice so I shoveled some more. I couldn’t help but glance over while noticing the spirit of the guy who died of an overdose on the curb cheering me on. The snow flakes just kept coming. It’s amazing what goes through your mind when you’re shoveling the snow. Almost to the third round I felt a sharp glimpse of fear cross my mind. Maybe I should get a flamethrower. What if I were to die in this next round. I recalled a tussle with a coworker wanting to fight to the death. A thought in my head about death crossed my mind again. Headed into the twelfth round I realized that it was just me and the snow left in the stadium. Tired and exhausted, to be honest even after reading over 100 books I was never satisfied, I needed more to satisfy my soul. The truth is that I had no home to go to and I couldn’t tap out or ring the bell, I had to win this fight with old man winter or the entire world would freeze. Once the snow stopped, I knew I had him. I got my second wind and went and got my electric snow blower to finish the job. There were no rules in this brawl, just me and old man winter. Once the snow stopped, I delivered the knockout blow after 4hrs of shoveling the driveway, I did it. The 10 to 12 foot conquering was complete. While leaving to go in, there were no fans, just me and my shovel. It was back to business. Sweating under my snow gear I knew this wasn’t my last brawl. Old man winter would be back, headed inside I rested up and stayed on guard for the next blizzard. I had a strange feeling that this wasn’t our final showdown.

The Black & White Monster

I begged God to keep it out of me, but he wouldn’t leave me alone.

I tried to be nice to everyone, be a good man, follow the laws, smile, but no matter what, that dark black and white monster kept at it.

“The fire it burns. God, the fire burns, it eats the flesh until everything goes numb.”

Everywhere I went, there he was. 

At the point of no return I stood shaking in a room hoping and praying to some higher power to keep him out of me until I got a call from my neighbor.

In the Ten Commandments it says that we shouldn’t kill and that we should love God and not be high tempered so I asked God to keep the white and black monster away. 

Before I snapped, I saw an old picture of my family, I saw a part of me die every day and eventually I would have to face the black and white monster. He wanted my soul.

I never welcomed him in, but he just kept coming and coming until I felt a vessel in my brain pop. As he took ahold of my mind I grabbed his neck and kept choking him until I felt his soul leave his body. I couldn’t stop smashing his head on the cement. Then I woke up.

God showed me the dream of what I could become so instead of me acting out the dream I sat in a small room and punched on a punching bag until the black and white beast left my soul. 

Tired and exhausted, I sat down until he returned.

He never dies, if he can’t get to you one day he comes back the next.

He’s a monster. A black and white monster that keeps shifting until he steals your soul.

Don’t let him win.

Old Man Winter

While I shoveled, I could feel the old man trying to bring me down.

His bitter breeze, I could feel chilling down my spine.

He would not go down without a fight so I kindly asked mother sun to calm him down and in seconds she sent a ray of heat to put him to bed.

Old Man Winter

The Old Church

And there he was at the age of 65, Paster Al was his name, and preaching was his game.

Every Sunday, rain, sleet, or snow, Paster Al was doing nothing else but preaching about the glory of God. His services were intense and even in the blizzard cold there was a line outside filled with people motivated to hear a word from Paster Al. I mean the place was packed, singers singing their hearts out. Recovering addicts yearning for their blessings, eager to share their deliverance message. This was real. Even Ms. Earnestine would get up every Sunday with the choir to sing their hearts out, but her duty was the same song ushering in the spirit every Sunday. This was her moment. This was her education. Honestly it was all she had to look forward to. Mr. Pete and his wife would delight in sharing their 30 years of marriage and Ms. Lynn loved wearing her big beautiful church hats. It was club Jesus and holy water with bread and wine was served on the first Sunday. If anyone dared test or challenge this way of life they would be shunned from the church. The deliverance was real, people would pass out. The prayer was magnified, you could literally feel God in the building. Sister Lynn would be laying hands on people and sister Priscilla would be speaking in tongues vibrating in mid air. One thing that remained clear about Paster Al’s church was how everyone of his members literally memorized the entire Bible. 

He’d developed the reputation of turning ordinary people into professional worshipers. 

Paster Al would baptize any and everyone, gang members, homosexuals, criminals, thieves and even sex offenders. The man spent 65 years preaching, then at the end of his run he took a bath in the baptismal pool and fell to sleep on the front pew near the sanctuary where he first joined the church. The man was born to preach, he was born with a sharp tongue. He made no money, his entire life was spent preaching for free and working at the corner store. His credit score was perfect and his wife played the piano. He had 8 kids and they all lived in the church together until they graduated.

The Old Church

Retired

I woke up one morning and realized that I’d done the exact same thing for 30 years.

I got up, ate breakfast, took a shower, and brushed my teeth.

I have a trail in the house to prove it.

I argued with the same person only to realize that they too did the exact same thing for 30 years.

I even noticed that I’d seen the same political figures on local and national TV and entertainers whether they were dead or alive for over 30 years.

The entire world seemed to be coming to an end on the same news network and my kids were doing the same dumb things that I did at their age.

I heard the same thing over and over again on the same radio stations.

I found myself in the same debt cycles having the same conversations with the same business people and crossing paths with the same female friends even years later.

The most amazing thing about this revelation is to me I may never die, but to you I will. To me I won’t get to read my obituary, but someone else will.

My simple bucket list once I decide to call it quits is to stay in a room and watch and read everything that I missed in the past thirty years so keep those movies and books coming even the old ones because even if I don’t make it, who knows, somewhere in time I could be doing the same old thing retired and not even know that I’m dead.

Sitting in the same spot, I got up and sat in it again. My entire frame is embedded in the cushion.

Retired

The Devil’s Plants

 “King, who are you talking to?” Jessie asked.

King sat up straight. I think it was the devil.

At this moment he’d caught Jessie’s attention.

“What is he saying?” Jessie asked.

“He wants me to see the human race as they are. He wants me to leave them behind so he can finish the job,” King replied.

“What job?” Jessie responded.

“Jessie, you know the story, I’m not schizophrenic, I  took a walk like Jesus did. I walked down the streets that carry my name and all I saw were conniving weed and drug addicted people selling to people who proudly accepted. I got to talk to a real decent man named West and he told me about his relationships and family. Very sad story. Jessie, there’s no mercy out here, just blood and just like God the devil wants his kingdom,” King explains.

“Is it that serious?” Jessie replied.

“You see this scar Jessie? I got this scar from my own ethnicity. All pain. Hell on earth. My own people left me for dead. They called me the “N” word. They fed my entire family drugs and alcohol, and they happily accepted, I have nothing left. The devil needs me to submit so he can have it all. I’m stuck in the middle and he won’t leave me alone. After all of the pain, the weight is heavy. He won’t stop,” King said.

Jessie looked his dear friend in the eyes, “Run King, just run from this place and don’t look back.”

King, hearing the voice calling him outside of the room to make a deal balled up his fist, “Jessie, he took my mother from me. She was the only friend I had. She was too weak to fight him by herself, he’s devouring everything and everyone I love.”

“Jesus said turn the other cheek King,” Jessie said watching King get up off of the floor only to fall back down.

“King, what are you doing?” Jessie said.

“I’m tired of running. He took everything from me. I’m going to fight. Tell what ever family that I have left that I’ll see them on the other side. He’s going to take me to the underworld and I’m going to kill him and his entire Army. I’m going to force God’s hand to help. I’m going to prepare a place for you and those who marched with me,” King says while getting up off of the floor to go outside.

Jessie couldn’t help but notice that he used his fist to get up off of the floor the second time. As King leaves he then hears a gunshot and finds King’s body trembling outside of the room on the balcony.

He looked around as the world got darker and the people basked in the devil’s plants. 

Little did Jessie know is that those left behind were left with no King. As he fought in the underworld they would have to fight like hell on earth and do it non-violently without the devil’s plants. Those who ate them and traded them lost the battle. Those who kept fighting would eventually see King waiting for them in the afterlife. Sitting on the throne with the tree of knowledge and a rainbow behind him the dream was worth fighting for. It was true, in the end the righteous win the battle, God keeps his promises. 

Long live the dream.

Team USA

 “Ref, what was the call?” Coco says throwing down her racket.

She was upset. The ref had taken away her point.

At that moment the fans noticed that CoCo had super human strength. The racket had literally broken into two pieces. Somehow the referee turned her into super CoCo and the fans noticed her hand and eye coordination was unmatched. She’d turned the match around in no time.

On the last serve, realizing that she’d won, she began screaming with her fist balled up. It was like a little lion roaring in the wild. The referee had literally turned her into a tennis beast. With her adrenaline flowing she soon turned back to her regular self to face the media.

“How did you do it?” One reporter asked.

“I don’t know, I guess seeing that the USA needed a winner and how much they’ve invested in my career it turned me into a champion. I couldn’t let my country down. America is like walking through a desert, if the people see you trying to survive they won’t give up on you. It’s not that bad. Just like most places the people are looking for hope. In my quest to survive, I did this for them.”

Team USA

The Simple Water Fountain

 Today I ran 8 miles and after my run my mouth was dry so I drank out of a water fountain that was far from simple. It had filters and a nice place to fill up my water bottle. The world isn’t so bad. Thanks to the inventors who took the time to create such a nifty device. I’m pretty sure they did it for a guy like me who likes to run death laps around indoor tracks. It was a grueling run, the last lap was the toughest but I’m still alive. I did see white spots in my visual for a second on my final lap but thank God I got my second wind. I guess I must be here for a reason because I made it through 8 miles. I did think about Dr. King and all of the people back then striving for this one moment in time. With everyone plotting to take over the world even if it were a dirty simple water fountain I probably would have taken whatever I could get because an 8 mile run can make you thirsty and tired. The track was filled with white people and Black people so I guess it’s mission accomplished so activist you can go home now. Hit the gym, I guess. The water is filtered nowadays. That’s good. I later got denied for a small loan but trust me it’s all good because the water quenched my thirst and I did pay my water bill. I tried to get some extra cash just to see how far I could stretch my blessings but either way I’m grateful. I really am. We’re all in this together, the bank just lost out on making a few extra bucks. I could have used the money to put a simple water fountain in my building. What a dream.

The Simple Water Fountain 

Never give up on Freedom

To whom this message may find, first I have to inform and remind you of the fight.

Comfort is a curse that rattles the cages of those who are hungry; therefore, while you sleep someone is plotting to eat at your table. In that, hunger can serve as a motive to satisfy your cravings to be fulfilled and comfortable. It’s a cycle, a curse of everything living.

It can drive a person to be first in line. 

When a person dies a thousand times trying to be free their soul lights the fire in generations to come.

This image haunts the souls of those living on the top floor. Fear rattles their spirit so they jump to keep the cycle of freedom alive, it’s purged in blood and well thought out by the wise.

To the young, it dissolves, but to the seekers it’s everything they dream of.

In a field of drug lords, war ravaged nations, and ghettos, you will eventually find books under the mattress of someone seeking a way out. A way to freedom.

To comprehend these laws of nature, no one is safe, only constantly on guard.

After a hard days work the cement floor is like a cozy bed to those earning their keep.

In a field of oppression many never see tomorrow, so to someone seeking freedom it is their tomorrow.

Today, be reminded that people are still fighting to be free.

Numb from their own wombs unable to surrender the honor and goals of a free world.

In this statement I can hear the cold wind blowing out a prisoner’s fire. He or she also wants to be free.

A representative republic that trust in God can only stand united and if the people are weak, hunger for their civil rights will make them stronger and eager to magnify freedom.

For their children will witness them strive and will take honor in being tested.

For no man can sit idle in search for a meal.

Like eagles soaring in the sky—long lasting freedom is always earned.

Under a brutal regime, freedom for the people they are oppressing is often misunderstood, hardly comprehended. Freedom is like hope burning a freedom fighter’s pride.

Those who hear stories of legends fighting for their freedom learn two things: they learn about bravery and they learn about sacrifice.

Freedom is the will to seek an education, but most of all the will to pursue your dreams.

Fight after fight, drowning by the billions seeking refuge, never surrender the idea of freedom.

It will eventually raise the dead and revolutionize those who seek it.

In the end, the true power in the story is those yearning to sacrifice and leave everything behind to be FREE.

Never give up on Freedom it comes in many forms.

The World Maxed Out

Deep in the cold of winter stood a dead frozen homeless man.

Tear gas filled the eyes of protesters as a lesbian woman laid barefoot facedown on the cold cement dead.

Protesters filled the streets begging for freedom as they’re slaughtered in broad daylight.

Taking shelter in my bunker I couldn’t help but notice people praying for miracles, but nothing happened.

In the distance I saw a teacher reading to autistic children and a mother begging for her child’s father to pay the bills.

Pleasure seekers drowning in their own passions and the funk of misery overflowing with company.

The truth is that everyone had been given what they asked for, but still it was never enough. For a blindman to see, he would still have to sacrifice his legs because everything now came at a cost.

Champion after champion only to die in a room with nothing left to give.

As new blood emerged, the god seekers soon saw truths being preached by black sheep and as a slave saw freedom another 3rd world country saw no end to the slave trade.

Standing on a tower the new pharaohs and kings stood watch on their borders as marshal law fed the governing beast eager to maintain law and order.

Farmers begging for mercy and a financial bailout, it was clear that the world had maxed out.

The enlightened began to see flesh as the pathway to prosperity, sadly, their cup overflowed with the party fever.

Micro computer chips on social media platforms as gold star evangelicals preached of a path to salvation not comprehending that data in a virtual world had limits.

This all while a small minded group beat an old homeless doctor with a hammer after he gambled his life away.

In the depths of space a mad scientist sees no limits to his mission to other planets as the planet filled with over a billion people was his to conquer. If death were to come from a disease or virus a scientist could only comprehend God’s true existence in the form of scientific breakthroughs.

Yet, still, dark space stood silent.

At a tipping point, a drunk and drug filled brain inside of a fragile skull staggers in a body at the peak of a dopamine high while smoking marijuana. While a holy monk is told to give his life to Christ in his march for peace. 

This is all while rainbows as symbols are no longer fathomed as a promise from God to some youth in search for utopia on earth.

History being told in fear can often paint a fraudulent picture of truth to a society looking in one direction. 

Tainted, limping in a small cage, sick and abused animals are seen hiding in storm shelters.

Migrants seeking refuge see no fear in civil law and as the roof caves in the skilled search for new blood to train as unruly men drown in nuclear war. 

Taking his seat in his chair a wiseman sits down as the next in line in the food chain overthrows a robotic empire to emerge as God’s new prized creation. This all while an alien civilization returns for their pyramids and a lion takes a seat at the front gates to rest.

The World Maxed Out

A Dream of Peace

I had to work extra hard today but while working I couldn’t help but notice a bird on a wire.

Getting older by the minute I remember my first marriage. We argued and fought about everything. The most brutal argument we had I recall screaming to the top of my lungs trying to make a point, and then falling to the floor as she stormed out of the house as I sat on the bare floor in grief that I had no way of getting my point across. I yearned for peace. I learned to appreciate it. Sadly, the constant fighting was getting us no where.

I recall a thousand battles that I’d faced over and over again. Fighting with other males, fighting and arguing with family members. Just unnecessary wars waiting for the dust to settle. Yesterday I decided to sit down in a dark room. In the silence I couldn’t help but notice the ambulance sirens driving by. 

Good people are dying but I believe I know why the good lord spared my life in the war on terror. I believe my purpose is to calm the storms. To balance the laws of nature. To introduce the world to a small chair in a room with a book waiting to be read. A book that was once a tree growing in a dark forest now trimmed down to a piece of paper for me to learn and grow while reading someone else’s thoughts. In the process I silently read to correct my flawed past thoughts. I reprogram my brain to be more calm; More patient; More kind; and a better person.

One poet once said that evil never sleeps. In tune with the balance of nature, I then fell to sleep listening to my audio bible only to feel a divine force giving me complete peace. 

I woke up refreshed. I woke up still dreaming of Peace. The feeling of Peace. A man in the forest by the lake listening to the sounds of nature. After the dream I jump back to my feet and get back to work. Time is priceless, war is weary, and peace is refreshing.

A Dream of Peace 

The Black Bubble Theory

What if the answer was sitting right there? Physically there has to be something that would ignite a big bang. Have we seen any explosions in space? Not yet, at least as far as I know. All we see are sucking and radiating stars that fill blocks of space. What if the answer was as simple as a child blowing bubbles? What if the darkness of space is just as simple as black air. Black air and gas chemicals that blow bubbles into planets. Bubbles that pop and create external pockets of air that in the process ripple through space creating organic blocks of life. What if a black hole was just a black air bubble forming another galaxy? 

The Black Bubble Theory

The Big Tree

 “Trisha, Jessie don’ discovered an alternate reality; Trisha did you hear me?” Connie said noticing Trisha gazing out of the window.

“Trisha, what are you looking at?” Connie asked.

“Our dumb ass brothers are going to kill us and themselves trying to keep us warm,” Trisha replied.

In a moment’s time, Connie noticed them chopping away at a huge tree.

“Oh God!” Connie said.

At mid stroke the tree fell on everything in its path including their house. By God’s grace everyone survived but the tree smashed everything and caused a huge power outage.

Standing at the bottom of the tree stump Carl took his gloves off and began scratching his head while accessing the damage.

“Maybe we should have called a tree removal company,” he concluded.

The Big Tree

My Will and Testament

Well kids that I don’t have in blood, but just time,  I leave you with a $250,000 insurance policy and a net worth of investments into people.

I’ve had good days and bad days.

I would like to thank the oil companies, banks, government, pornstars, credit card companies, churches and Sherman for being a brother and a friend.

Headed into black history month my true strength came when I had to look in the mirror at myself.

Everyday has not been easy and as one philosopher would say the world will break everyone eventually.

In capitalism I’ve had to choose my battles wisely and sadly I’ve lost so many only to get up stronger.

To my ethnicity, I have spent my entire life trying not to let you down.

To other ethnicities, I’ve spent my entire life shaking your hands with little to offer but words of encouragement and my life.

I don’t know where the world is headed but there are some power moves being made that may leave a lot of people behind at the time that I wrote this.

So here is my will.

To the world I’ve given it my all and the only thing that’s left is my life.

This piece serves as my will that whatever is left of me is to go to those on my time sheets that gave me the most time.

For that I am forever grateful.

Thanks for the friendship, love, encouragement, and sacrifice.

We had good days and bad days but as a family somehow we kept the ship afloat.

Bang!

I feel better now.

In memory of those no longer with us from suicidal submission.

This piece serves as a reminder that all life is precious.

I wrote this piece for you, your life is meaningful, don’t give up, I’m with you.

The Caged Lion

 “Cee Cee, why do they have us here? Why are we in a cage?” Bobby, the good Lion asked.

Cee said nothing.

“Cee Cee talk to me please. Don’t you dream of what life would be like in a real jungle?” Bobby said.

It was clear that Cee Cee was sad because she said nothing. From a distance she noticed that one of the zoo attendants had left a gate partially unlocked. 

Cee Cee’s eyes were now wide opened. In a matter of seconds her and her pride were raising hell outside of the gates.

People couldn’t believe what they were seeing. 

Now roaring in the zoo lobby, Cee Cee and her pride were free.

Bobby couldn’t believe how quickly Cee Cee’s mood had changed.

They were free.

Space balls, Bubbles & Bibles

I died on Earth only to be reborn in another space ball.

It blew and spun around far away like a bubble in another galaxy somewhere in the 8th dimension.

Thinking that I’d escaped a third world ghetto, I found out that they had Bibles too, but their characters were different.

Realizing that death was only a pathway into another life, I found out that I was their savior. I was their prophet. I was their prophecy.

What a universe, it all made sense, at least to them, but sadly, I was still a lonely leader in a room waiting to be assassinated by someone who obviously didn’t believe.

If he or she gets to me, I wonder where I’ll end up next.

The guy before me tried to carry out a genocide and if I die in this world the bubble will probably explode.

Space balls, Bubbles & Bibles.