Holding on to ‘Something’

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I am holding on to “something,” what that something maybe I do not know.

However, I feel its tension in my daily affairs and my frustration

It grows with the mental constipation

My transformation may not begin until I discover

why and what “something” does to my mind

I hunger for a change from my old life

***

Am I afraid of “something”?  How do you discover fear hidden deep inside?

Well, at least I noticed my dilemma, unlike my previous life of denial

I faced nothing truthfully; however, this “something” is real

Something may be “expectations” Yes! Expectations

The dreaded process of what may happen scares me

Expectations from family, friends, and life

Conversely, I feel frustrated, it drains my spirit

And circumvents my growth, I hate to be honest

*****

Are we ever in the “moment”?  When we have expectations?

How does one accept the moment with expectations flooding the soul?

Do we not anticipate life?  Set goals? I feel lost without expectations

and stuck with them.  Expectations frustrate my psyche and I expect

one day they will not. (You see, there I go again)

Hopefully, I rid myself of my dreaded expectations,

So, I live in the moment.

Consequently, able to accept whatever happens will feel great,

Until then; I “expect” nothing, however “something” is out there.

The Invisible Dragon

Lynch-A-Negro Day: Public Square 12pm Sharp

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I will poem-nize the underlining message when policemen brutalize African Americans caught on tape. This brutality is a planned and unplanned public lynching (Pick-a-Negro Day). Yes, we are the victims of public terrorism (KKK/Cops) since being taken and enslaved (Free Labor).

Though we have fought several social justice battles (Non-Violent) yet none seemed to have worked (Unorganized violence, peaceful protest).

Sadly, like days gone by, America remains at peace with our present state (Marginalized, Poverty-Stricken), nightly news highlight brutality by cops (Psychologically Traumatizing).

This unfathomable brutality receives the blessings of some passive Whites, and Blacks (If only they stop resisting).

Consequently, our children receive these negative images by internet, TV, and history books (Texas, slavery was a immigrants workers’ program).

So, Pokie fights his minds and souls (Black on Black violence Myth) because he can’t complain (Where’s your Daddy?).

What about your Black community organizers (Black Misleaders supporting Trump) minsters and pastors for hire (No support for poverty).

What about our children’ education we must fight the system (DeKalb, Ill Teaching Faculty 86.1% Whites) and what about multiculturalism (Black Teachers 3.7% )?

Damn, (God infused)…What is the possible fate of African American students if they underperform (Prison Industrial Complex) as a result of not receiving culturally relevant teaching (Black students are lazy).

Cops subject us to the worse form of subjugation (Public Humiliation, Private Terror).

But, it’s no surprise America used policemen for this fear (KKK/Cops) and terror mission (Not responsible) in our communities (Liquid stores, food desserts) in our homes or downtown (Blacks have no rights worth defending).

Again, the purpose for these daily public lynching (Systemic Racism and Power) is to remind us of our place (Faces at The Bottom of the Well).

The Dragon ReDux

A Dodge City Short: Mr. Brooks’ Daughter, Angela…

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At 7:30am, I entered the store, staring at Mr. Brooks behind the counter.  The hogshead cheese’s foul scent flooded the air; regrettably, I was there to buy the disgusting delicacy for my grandmother, Dorothy.  Every Saturday, religiously at 7am, Mr. Brooks opened the two-flat single floor store, with its gated doors and junk filled sidewalk for business.  The half-parked cars of rowdy Friday night party goers lined 57th & Normal.  The rusty spoke wheel bike I’ve had for several years lay aside the mailbox.  Mr. Brooks, a medium size, older Black male in his 50’s raised his family in the apartment above the store.  He was a gentle man, with caramel brown complexion, and a tight small afro.  Now, as vagabonds and vandals, we stole from anyone and anything.  Mr. Brooks was no exception; in fact, stealing was a rite of passage growing up in the Dodge.  So, when, two or three of us entered stores, Brooks would get busy legs being mindful of our intentions.  Like the Arabs on 55th & Halsted Street, Mr. Brooks walks right near us, like a guard dog, patiently waiting for action.  Well, 30 cents doesn’t call for too much walking and we’d hear the occasional, “What y’all going to buy”?  At that time, we’d split up and secure candy in our busted pants, shirts, and socks.  Other than the proximity to our rival’s housing project, I had two reasons to visit Brooks’ grocery; the stealing was good and Mr. Brooks’ older daughter Angela.

Stay Where I can See you

“Can I have two grape Bud’s Daddy, and a box of Boston Baked-Bean?  Mr. Brooks’ daughter Angela slowly descends from her position at the meat counter.  She walks slowly to the front of the store; her pink blouse poorly disguises her cleavage.  Since I first laid eyes on her I wanted Angela, she was hot.  Her face, strictly innocent, with a gorgeous molasses body and her features firmly assembled.  Her younger brothers Greg and Mike’s play loudly in the basement.  But I could only hear Angela’s movements.  I, too, was young and filled with uncontrollable energy, and like most boys we played all the time.  But, I was attracted to girls like Angela and playing wasn’t considered when she worked in the store.  I deposited the 15 cents on the counter while shyly looking for affirmation; however, she exchanged the candy, only saying, “Do you want a bag?”  I softly replied, no.  I often verbally and physically pushed girls around, but not Angela; she deserved attention because she was a woman, at least in my dreams.  You see, I had a fancy for adult women as a teenage adolescent.  I wasn’t afraid to tell them either, one day; I’ll tell Angela.  Oh, by the way, she notices my friends stealing and threw us out.

Mr. Skeet, owned a grocery store also, he however carried a 357 magnum on his side.  A tall light-skin intimidating man, he was the complete opposite of Mr. Brooks.  His store was sectioned off with no blind spots, not a good place to steal.  He, too, lived atop his store with his family; however, he built gates to the meat and frozen sections.  If you wanted to go into those sections, he came with you; he had an eagle eye and customers’ feared him.  Worst, one of his daughters was short and muscular, and the other looked like him with a wig.  Nevertheless, his store was the finer of two because he kept us out of it, “If you’re not buying wait outside” was his motto. Just like the Arabs on 55th & Halsted.  Skeet let you know he’s aware of your intentions and they will have consequences, this was understood; to kids and adults alike.  We seldom stole anything on his watch; Mr. Skeet rarely received a challenge.  I cannot recall however hearing about Skeet using that gun, unfortunately, my friends use one on Mr. Brooks later.  angela

Angela, I figured had a boyfriend but that did not deter me.  When love or lust calls, you must answer.  I had to have her before some idiot gets her pregnant.  I was fifteen, but, an experienced sexual male.  You see, I lost my virginity at ten years of age and adult women since that time were hot.  Sadly, too, I knew males who got girls pregnant and did nothing; for baby or mother.  I did not want this fate for Angela; I wanted sex with her before her possible soiling, this was an honorable act I figured, at least in my dreams.  Nonetheless, I saw Angela as something purer, better; yet, I wanted her in a torrid erotic way.  I imagined it time and again late at night in bed…

Let’s Get it On

The store’s desktop counter does a poor job hiding Angela’s adult curves…I see it fully.  Like a first grade teacher, leading her student, she carefully whispers sweltering echoes into my ears.  I see her flawless body, the brown taffy-apple breasts covered by two stiff dark nipples.  Today she’s wearing only a yellow dress as I imagine chewing the lemonhead candy-favored buttons quickly off it.  I lay the warm blanket atop the counter, she’s laying braless, minus her undergarments.  Although, I’m fifteen and she’s twenty-one, our bodies are equally attracted to each other.  Suddenly, my genitals nearly erupt from the sexual fantasies running through my mind.  Thus, I angrily grab my manhood as not to hear it scream to soon; yet, it’s swollen with anticipation. I notices Angela sits up, her eyes piercing mine with an invitation for vice. 

Her wonder cave is marvelously sculptured; and its entrance covered with smooth straight hair, it’s all too much.  I’m weakened as the butterflies storm my belly.  As I glare at the Robert Clemente picture on Mr. Brooks’ wall, I grab her body and plunge my parts in her.  As an impatient student waiting on his teacher’s star, I insisted on her pleasure to stream down first.  Soon, not then after, I tasted her climax with my fingers and lips…her skin ablaze as I squeezed her breasts between my teeth, her body’s completely occupied by my naked forces.  Not long after, my facial and body begins to contort signaling my approaching explosion.  She strapped me harder as she notices my transformation, her breasts squeezing my face, gripping me harder. The firmness of Mr. Brooks’ counter did not disturb the pleasure I received.  Forcefully, I indicated my climax with such intensity and potency; I nearly lost conscious.  Soon, the motion cease and our breathing returned to normal, I imagine this is how it would occur.  Angela, and I had done it, and it was good, albeit short…if only in my dreams.

The Invisible Dragon

Boy 1

The Resurrection Approaches Tao 44

Fame or integrity: which is more important?

Money or happiness; which is more valuable?

Success or failure; which is more destructive?

****

If you look to others for fulfillment,

You will never truly be fulfilled.

If your happiness depends on money,

You will never be happy with your yourself.

****

Be content with what you have;

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Rejoice in the way things are.

When you realize there is nothing lacking,

The whole world belongs to you.


Stephen Mitchell’s Translation

******

I came across this Tao essay among my books, as if it could hide. I discovered the saying because at times I fade into illusions and become despondent. Indeed, it is highly likely that I fear uncertainties at times, because the world appears empty and without friends at those moments. Close friends are a margin, men specifically, I walk a lonely path vacant of male friends. Sadly, I did not have a position on a team.  Maybe its better that way, not to stay lonely however.  Thus, after a beautiful walk/jog, I sat on my small and rented cement porch and took a picture of my deceased friend, Kevin Staple.

The Invisible Dragon