Monday, January 30, 2006

Ten Lines response.

It took One second for me to
Have visions of us Two
Meeting on Three planes of thought
Sharing Four-play
While screaming the Five syllables of your name
With my Six senses enthralled by
Seven soft kisses placed
On my Eight sweet spots
Sending me to cloud Nine.

All this from Ten feet away.

Peace

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Untitled...pt. 3 the conclusion.

Okay... the big finish.

Well that night, after spending the whole day with Amber, and rushing up to be with my girlfriend was a trip. Not just with distance, but emotionally as well. There was a War brewing inside of me, the Heart and Mind had failed at coexistence. This war began to spill out on to the streets of my tongue, my actions, and my eyes. I'm not sure if my girlfriend saw this, but I felt as though it was as visible as the images from the the war in Iraq. Only my war had to end, for the only casualty would be me.

As the day turned to night, and we laid on the bed, I began to talk. Not about Amber, but moreso about my feelings. I weaved a tale that was partially of the mind, and partially of the heart. As a whole, it probably didn't make sense. I remember saying things like "I love you, but I'm not in love with you" and "sometimes I think I love you and can be with you forever, but sometimes I feel like I need time to myself." I'm sure to her none of what I said made much sense, but the tone of my speech painted the picture my word could not.

I only knew this as she began to cry. I had never made her cry before. I wished I could take back my words, but I couldn't it. Well I could say I didn't mean it, but like I said earlier, memories are hard the to lose. It was as those first tears fell, cutting a path down her cheek that my Heart began to loosen its strangle-hold on my Brain. I began to see what I was letting myself do to another person, a person I said I loved. I tried retracting some of my statements but the damage had been done. This would possibly be our last night together.

We laid there, holding each other as if we were attempting to keep warm in sub-zero weather, each of us wanting to give the other all the heat in our body, wanting to see them survive more than ourself. We fell asleep that way, and woke up that way.

The next day we knew what had to happen. I was gonna have to pack my close up and leave. So that's what I did. I no longer attempted to explain away my words of the night before, I only hugged her, and left.

I had decided to leave, leave Atlanta, and just go back home. My internal Civil War had again resembled the Iraq war, in the way that there will be no winner. All that had happened left me fatigued. I couldn't stand to be in the city any longer. Given my mental connection, Amber would likely see through me and I couldn't go through a repeat of the night before. I figured I would speak to them both when I got home.

It was days before I would contact either woman. I needed some time with myself, I had spent myself more than initially thought. My, now, ex-girlfriend had called my parents to find out about me, she had been concerned after not hearing from me. I eventually called her, we talked but the tension so thick that it made it to awkward to stay on the phone for very long.

And as for Amber, my feelings for her had frustrated me. I began to resent her, for where she had taken me to, mentally. I decided to cut it off, cold-turkey. Unfortunately that approach had sent me through withdrawal. I began with denial of her importance to me, I then moved onto mental and spiritual deterioration, followed by a reawakening in me. I finally reached the other side of the tunnel, acceptance of my actions.

With acceptance in hand I felt I had one last step to take, asking for forgiveness, and the chance to a fresh start with Amber. So I picked up pad and pen, and asked them to help release my thoughts. In the end we had created the most eloquent letter I had ever written, it must have been 4 or 5 pages long. But, in the end all it really described was my indiscretion, my lies, and my conniving ways, but it was written so well how could you stay mad? Easily I guess.

Days later my letter returned to me. I guess telling the truth, sometimes only gets you freedom.

Weeks later my now ex-girlfriend's internship ended and she returned back to school. Days later, we were dating again. I guess sometimes the shoe just fits you to good to let it go, no matter how many holes it has, or how beat up it is. I didn't tell her anything of Amber, but I promised myself I would if we ever decided to get married.

My girlfriend never heard the name Amber. And I never heard from Amber. Years later I would meet my wife, and move to Atlanta for work. Coincidentally, my job is less than a mile away from where Amber lived when I visited.

I've driven by once or twice. But it not on my path. Peace.

Untitled... Pt. 2

When I left off yesterday's posting you saw our star at the proverbial fork in the road. Having to either follow the path one, that I knew and recognized. Which was the path that I had traveled on for a while, now. I knew my limits on this path, I knew that all these affairs were only affairs of the body, not of the mind and spirit. Temporary boosts to a man self-esteem. I also knew that I could never have more than the occasional romp, with any of them. On this path I had convinced myself that I had already chosen my wife, all these "youthful indescretions" would not distract me from that goal.

Or, path two. This path seemed so bright, as though it had it's own Star. It looked like it had four paved lanes on which to travel. It appeared to be "new". "New," it was a word that conjured up infinite possibilities, or better yet, infinitely great possibilities. I felt enlightened just by thought of this path, a feeling that had been missing inside of me. Overjoyed with it's potential rewards. This could be my utopia.

Now let us continue...

5 days left. The idea of only having five days available to both, love and lose love, felt torturous. I felt cheated, not just by time, but also by circumstance.

The win' up tones of reggae music played the soundtrack to our night. My existing relationship was, at that point in time, doing just that, existing. I wasn't living in it. I was living in a moment, something my rigid, and analytical nature had never allowed me to do before. I was at a place in my Mind that I hadn't visited before, it euphoric. I was so "out" that thoughts of marriage entered my head. But like great things, this night had to end.

It was close to closing time. I had looked at my watch at times during the night, as though I were counting down the inevitable. I, soon began to fall back into my analyzing state. Weighing the options, that this night had availed me. My Mind fought my Heart's attempt to be involved in the decision making process. It became a battle of reason versus feeling, and after minutes, which felt like hours or days of internal conflict, the Heart had won.

We exchanged numbers, as well as kisses. Kissing at the club, especially someone you just met, had been forbidden act in my mind. But this was a person I had known my whole life, metaphysically speaking.

The next day we spoke on the phone, our conversation came as effortlessly as the previous nights kiss had. We discussed our schedules for the upcoming week, and when we would have to time to see each other. As though God had wanted to conduct some sort of cruel experiment on human nature, we discovered our times synched up perfectly. This was rare given that I typically worked nights at my job at the Gas Station, but due to a recent firing, I had be asked to work the day shift. Allowing us most of the evenings to enjoy each others company.

Our evening consisted of me picking her up from her dorms, and us visiting various spots around the city. I moved around the city as though I didn't have a girlfriend, or as if Tallahassee wasn't a small enough city for me to bump into the wrong (girlfriends girl-friends) people. I didn't care though, I was "in love." We would spend our nights by my apartment, discussing any thing from high-fructose corn syrup to places we wanted to visit. But we never talked about Friday.

Friday would be the day she would be leaving me and returning to Atlanta. And although we were only 5 hours apart, to a broke college student with a fickle car, we might as well have 5 states apart.

But in the meantime we enjoyed our moments together. She stayed the night every night, but not once did either of us feel pressured, or pressure each other to consumate our relationship by engaging in sex. Just the act of being together had satisfied that need in my 22 year old body.

I would speak to my girlfriend during the day, primarily while at work. Being that she was in Atlanta and that it was a time before cell phones were popular, so a lot of checking up of my whereabouts wasn't possible. Though, I probably would've found ways around her, even if she were in town.

Thursday came, and we both knew the would quite possibly be our last night together. We still acted as though she lived 5 miles away, exchanging addresses, phone numbers, and directions, as though we intended to see each other on Saturday. We were still living on Fantasy Island, oblivious to the truth. The truth that I still had 2 years of school left, that she had some difficult semesters of law school to complete, and that long distance relationships don't work. But we went through the "this isn't good-bye" motions anyways.

The climax....

So my "new" love had come and gone, and I was feeling everything my Mind had told my Heart it would feel. We spoke on the phone, still overly optimistic about what our future could hold. I had slowly returned back to my usual self, but with a greater degree of consciousness about certain things, which I attribute to my week in Bliss. My relationship with my girlfriend had never skipped a beat. I was good at that, living in two places at once, maybe it's the Gemini in me. I was somehow able to walk both paths at once. A couple of weeks later, I even made plans to travel to Atlanta to go see "them".

I had tried hard to shake of the heavy aroma of a love and life that I could never have. But I couldn't, it was now apart of my memories, and for years I had tried to "lose memories" that had no use for, or that pained me to think of.

I traveled to Atlanta soon after. I had been invited up by my girlfriend, and I probably could have gotten around not seeing my "new" love, but it seemed as though the closer I got to the city, the more my Heart beat to a rhythm. A rhythm that seemed to be sort of a Morse Code..... A.m-b-e.r.... My Mind had not been prepared for this and had to succumb.

I then became frazzled, if thats a word, operating only on emotion, which is never a good thing. I contacted Amber as soon as I came in town. I had to see her, and since she lived on the south side of town, it would be easy to see her on my way up to the northside of town where my girlfriend was living.

Make sense, right? Not really, because I was supposed to meet my girlfriend after she got off work so that we could go to Six Flags with some of her co-workers. And me not giving the consideration to distance or traffic, I was destined to be late. But when I got to Amber's apartment I threw all that out of the window.

I was back on my drug of choice. And like when on most drugs, time just floated by, I forgot all my problems and responsibilities, and also, did whatever I could to stay "high". Amber and I drove around parts of Atlanta, went to a Jamaican restaurant, by the M. L. King Center, Olympic Park. It was close to 5 p.m. before I realized that I needed to start leaving to prepare for my 6:30 p.m. meeting time. It wasn't until 5:45 that I left. I just couldn't pull myself away.

With traffic and the rush hour commute, it was 7:30 p.m. before I got where I needed to be, much later than I should've been. Needless to say, we didn't get to go to Six Flags. Luckily I had a Sister that lived in town that I could blame for my tardiness. We decided to stay in for the night, and although physically in Kennesaw, my Heart was in College Park. And at some point that night, I decided I couldn't walk on these paths anymore...

** This story is much longer than I intended and I still have a bit left to share. I know I stated that a conclusion would be drawn today, but didn't expect all of this. I promise to finish by later today. Peace. **

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Untitled...

Back to the land of the living.
I'm back after a week off, after trying to get re-centered.

Now, *cracking my knuckles* what shall I write on today? Hmm............., Oh.

Spiritual connectivity. Let me find an inspiration piece.... Okay. I'm ready.

In my life...*scratch that* Let me see how to begin...

Backstory.

Back when I was in college I dated this female, who was physically everything a guy could ask for in a woman. We dated for 2 years and had a really good "physical" relationship, and a pretty good relationship overall. I did love her, and felt that we could have a long and happy life together.

But in the midst of those 2 years, I did have a few indescretion. Mostly because I could, or because I liked being wanted by other women aside from my girlfriend (self-esteem issues). So these indescretions were mostly chics I met somewhere, neither I nor them were interested in real relationships. I would usually meet them at a club, and just start talking to them on the dance floor. I usually didn't ask for phone numbers, but sometimes I did for the heck of it. A very small percentage of them, would I actually pursue more with, though.

Well somewhere around the beginning of year 2, my then girlfriend got an internship up in Atlanta. So I was free to roam the Tallahassee countryside looking for chics. (I admit I was a bad boyfriend at times, but trust me I'm not that bad as a husband.) One fateful day I went out, I believe by myself, since my homeboys had gone home that summer. Anyways, I go to this reggae spot, and have my eye caught by this PYT with locs doing her thing on the dancefloor. At the time I was into Locs, so most chics with them attracted me. So I drop into my "mack" mode and go and start dancing with her. We begin talking and dancin', smilin' and dancin', wipin' sweat off each other and still dancin'.

Through conversation I find out that she's from Atlanta, a law school student taking classes a FSU. It was probably the most I'd ever conversed with a female in the club at one time. We basically talk and danced together all night. I was excited. Here was the woman I had written about in my journal; here lips, her style, her energy, her mentality.

She was right there! And where was I?

In a "loving" relationship. Not a good place to be when find a soulmate.

I would find out later that night that she was only here for a one week seminar... and it was her first day in town. So, I'd have 5 days.

  • Will VerseOne leave his physically strong relationship for a mental one?
  • Will he take the chance of starting something that can't be finished?
  • Will the fact that his girlfriend is interning in Atlanta, and the PYT is visiting from Atlanta come in to play?
  • VerseOne now lives in Atlanta with his wife, who has Locs, is that a coincidence?

Tune in tomorrow....

Peace.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

"Lift Every Voice And Sing..."---- James Weldon Johnson

"Lift ev'ry voice and sing,
Till earth and heaven ring.
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;"

The other day I was blog surfing, and I came across that of a blogger TeacherTori who had asked the question "why is there a Black National Anthem" (Lift Every Voice And Sing). So I decided to respond to her question, and I've decided to share it with ya'll. (Kinda long but definately worth the read... i think, anyways).

TeacherTori: …We have no "Korean American National Anthem", "Italian American National Anthem," or "German American National Anthem"....why a black one? We are not in segregated times anymore, and the majority of Americans alive today do not remember those horrible times so many years ago. I guess my beef is calling it the "Black National Anthem." I understand its purpose during the years when blacks were not given the same rights as other Americans, but the Civil Rights Act remedied that. I understand there will always be racists out there, but no need to add fuel to the fire. I think "Lift Ev'ry Voice and Sing" is a beautiful name.

VerseOne: Tori, I appreciate you asking this question, as well as, those who share your idea. But the title is more to reach African Americans than to appease others.I mean, think about it alternate titles are given to events, songs and people all the time, but most people don't question them. For example... Holocaust. Now you ask any person what the word means, and I'm sure it's related to Nazi Germany. Even though there have been several holocaust in the history of the world, including the number of slaves that died as a result of the slavery related events."Peculiar Institution". The American History book for slavery.The name means nothing to those who appreciate the message of the song. Black nationalism (meaning the love for yourself as black people, and the fight for there equality) is needed in this country so why wouldn't a rallying call be necessary to help us keep our "eyes on the prize", so to speak?And finally the reason "the majority of Americans alive today do not remember those horrible times so many years ago." is because the history books omitted it.Peace.

"Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won."


TT: What do you mean by "reaching African Americans"? I am a teacher and after I read what you said I looked at textbooks and there was a lot of information on slavery and black culture period. Maybe not a few decades ago but these kids are being very educated on history.

VO: Maybe in recent textbooks. But I was in primary school 10-15 years ago and our coverage of black history was sparing.When I say to "reach african americans", I mean just that. In order to gain understanding of your culture or heritage, there is a need for methods to do so. Kwanzaa for example. It is in essence a celebration of our culture and also a ritual by which we can learn more about our origins. Same with Black History Month. They are used to bring awareness. Just like the AIDS walk, or MS Telethon. Where people affected by these illnesses campaign on their behalf. These songs or rituals bring awareness to those people might want to become more aware. Those who tend to want a greater sense of awareness happen to Black people in this case.So the song is just like any other song of affirmation, it has it's targeted audience and aims for them. Gospel songs aren't aimed at Muslims, so should the Muslim be mad for gospel music not being all encompassing, or viceversa?

I haven't heard anything back from her, but i'll let ya'll know. I'm curious to know what everyone else thinks about this. Please share your opinions.

"Out from the gloomy past,
Till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast."

Here are some people from TeacherTori's comments section opinion:
  • FetchingJen---"The only thing that irritates me about labeling the song as "Black" National Anthem IS the label. Why is it njecessary if it is about and for blacks? The National Anthem is for all Americans, not just the white ones... "
  • Eddie---"Hey, if someone thinks they have their own something or other, I have no problem with it. Let them play make believe, and I will join the millions of other Americans who love the star spangled banner."
  • Stuffle---"It is the calling the song a "Black National Anthem", as if blacks and whites are supposed to have different national anthems, that is the problem. "

"May we forever stand,
True to our God,
True to our native land."

Peace.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

"Mic check...1, 2, testing..."



Mic checks. This topic came to me after reading some other blogs in recent days, and some of my own reflections of college life.

The thought of getting your mic checked initially grew out of the rumors, and tales that spread through most high schools. There is always alleged incidents of girls checkin' some dude on the bus, or in the dugouts on the baseball field, or the back of the class during a film strip. Mostly these were rumors and locker room stories, but the act intrigued me nonetheless.

I was primarily intrigued because, even though I was no longer a virgin, the thought that my enjoyment of a sexual act was dependent upon the knowledge, skills and abilities of the chic performing it, was like heaven(to a 15 year old kid). I could actually just sit/stand/lay there and just enjoy. It was like your birthday or something, getting a present without having to recipricate (well not back then anyways).

"Mig-gity microphone masters..."

So what did I do? I began actively persuing those chics who were known to dabble in the felatiotic (i'm sure i just made that word up) arts. And those chics who had "DSL's, that would make a nigga dick swell." But to no avail. Although I did smash several of them, I wasn't getting the mic check.

It wasn't until senior year high school that I got my first lick on the tip, and that was the greatest 2.5 seconds of my young adult life.

I also had a complex that I discovered shortly after those 2.5 seconds... I don't think I want to kiss a chic who gives head. Funny now. Serious then.

I left high school, got to college and eventually dated. Now my first girlfriend, who had the "DSL's" i mentioned earlier had never "gone down" on a dude before, which i believed. So I began thinking that my chances of ever getting "mine" were close to zero. I even began "taking a trip downtown" just to increase my odds. Funny now. Serious then.


But all my waiting, my 8 years of sexual activeness without orals drought, my subtle suggestions, and guilt trips ended. One early morning the weekend before Final exams my life was changed for the better. I recieved at that point my greatest gift of all. It was definately all that I had hoped. Happy Birthday to Me!

Peace.



"...Microphone checka, one two checka" --- Das EFX

(oh yeah. chic in the photo. i don't know her, and i apologize if you are offended by the use of your picture for purposes of discussion.)