Waiting for Steve,

The gray face painted with hostility,

arose like a mighty warrior from the chair

shouting for all who cared to listen about

his record of football triumph.

The golden boy, the next big thing,

a can’t miss, this was Steve.

I was waiting on him to arrive.

****

A brawling 6’3 inch specimen drooling words

only a senile gentleman recites to himself

in a dark room, staring at cheat reflections.

The irritated spectators sipped alcohol

numbing the sounds of a never was.

Old men can be argumentative at times.

****

Steve possessed nothing his feeble mind

garnished as factual history this night,

an old man of grandeur and meanness.

Spewing vulgarities mindlessly

about his youthful athletic invincibility.

He was stuck with anger, in a past time.

His lips soaked with a cheat lipstick

sprouting indecencies on passive listeners.

On this night, the crowd was not cheering.

The crowds never cheers forever.

****

“I Was Great!”  You Bitches and Hoes!

Sure you were, helpless guests mouth closing their

mental panic room’ doors.

****

I watched Steve that night thinking

very little.  I was not enamored by his mean wit

or profanity-filled tirades.  You see, he

was my friend in a self-chambered illusion.

So, I must join him in his party

as ill-conceived as it sounds.

Though I did not make excuses

for his behaviors, my face shaped

forgiveness for his tenure this night.

I was his friend and tears flowed inside.

****

How could I deny this beaten

old man his fake facts.

Although witnessing the moment, I wished they had occurred.

He needed them to be an asset again, a big shot.

I was waiting for him to acknowledge

he made his narratives up, but he did not.

Thus, I believed his imaginings along side him

for this night.

Steve was in a place that never existed

and he did not know it.

But, old men get stuck at times

and they need friends

****

I am Steve’s friend and I’ll wait on him.

I hope he’s all still here, when he comes back.

**

The Invisible Dragon

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;

2012-10-20Outside with a friend2

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

Stop Chasing What’ If’s…

Tao Te Ching Verse 12

Robert A. Williams’ Translation

The person whom constantly responds to the physical world lives in a state of flux…swinging to and fro…they are unsteady ships on bumpy sea waters, not solid, undependable.  The Sage understands balance and remain grounded in eternal Tao…she lives in the physical world but above in spirit.  She lives firm, remaining dependent in harvest and drought, not concerned with supplies…she plants seeds of eternity…As she knows, the Tao provides in life and death.

The physical world offers much in such a short time.  Not surprisingly for some the tantalizing lures of riches and domination becomes too much.  We leap.  Unbeknownst however one’s consciousness will now become trapped in the thoughtless thinking of “What if?”

I have nothing else to say…

The Invisible Dragon

Tao Verse 64 Interpretation by Stephen Mitchell

What is rooted is easy to nourish

What is recent is easy to correct.

What is brittle is easy to break.

What is small is easy to scatter.

 

Prevent trouble before it arises.

Put things in order before they exist.

The giant pine tree

grows from a tiny sprout.

The journey of a thousand miles

starts from beneath your feet.

 

Rushing into action, you fail.

Trying to grasp things, you lose them.

Forcing a project to completion,

you ruin what was almost ripe.

 

Therefore the Master takes action

by letting things take their course.

He remains as clam

at the end as at the beginning.

He has nothing,

thus has nothing to lose.

What he desire is non-desire;

what he learns is to unlearn.

He simply reminds people

of who they have always been.

He cares about nothing but the Tao.

Thus he can care for all things.

How alone did I make others feel (Revised)

Americans, all too often; stockpile resources pretending blindness toward the less fortunate.  The nation’s motto “Every Woman for herself” provides a rational excuse for inaction for some.  As Americans we tend to believe today if a woman works hard she’ll succeed.  On the other side, her reality resembles a world not permissible to lone survival qualifications; she needs social help.  Unfortunately, and dishonorably, we protect our conveniences first, (i.e., what will it cost to help); thus we meticulously ponder those essential thoughts cautiously.  In the interim, no less, we remain idle while natural run its course.  In short, I shamed myself also with exaggerated loss of sight and non-action; thus I’m guilty as well.

As my conscious mortality gradually grows and my youthfulness slowly decays; I’m certain the end exist. The transience may reside atop a mountain or below the seas; but it will come nonetheless. At that time, I hope to welcome its purpose and display fearlessness.  With that said, eventual death allows a new reasoning about my inability to love deeper…Growing up poor and Black impacts all facilities i.e., affective, spiritual, emotional and not to mention, psychological, physiological, and social.  We circumvent measures that may help us by concentrating only on our survival and social defense.  Subsequently, as an African-American, you fight to feel good about yourself under such circumstances. One issue is how young people like myself grow up and not learn how to love fully.  I suggest self-loathing influences the ability to deeply care about other people. Why?  Because you hate you’re poor, hungry, and socially despised.

The perils of poverty demonize its actors in America.  For instance, underprivileged presents a direct affront to our democratic and capitalist values.   Americans do not adopt the notion publicly one can be poor in America. Why? Personal responsibility is the only factor to success.  Meanwhile, our mythical meritocracy dissolves poverty anguished cries with its steadfast resilient cheer: “Help your Damn Self”!  Or, “Get a fucking job bum”.  The steel-plated capitalistic mantra influences others to non-action and others to charity.  However poverty hurts the children of poor adults most when non-action occurs.  In children, insufficiency disable development, as a result, children mimic adults’ behaviors too rapidly.  Subsequently, children adopt those roles for the sake of survival and self-actualization.  I can attest sadly, however, children and adolescent should not adopt some adult traits, the miscarriage in development is too vital.

Hate, a theoretical stagnant of poverty, cultivates hardness in children and adolescents or the perception thereof.  As improvised Black kids, we believed or desired all families remain equal in scarceness in my neighborhood.  Therefore we did not wish people bad but it hurt when they did well.  Thus, on occasion, we would burst dreams and accomplishments like the fourth of July publicly… You have some news shoes, so what; your father got a new car, who gives a fuck, and then the ultimate class putdown: “Oh, you think you’re better than me now”?  For all intents and purposes, we detested success if it was not ours because it highlighted our poor conditions.  The popular culture today defines it as ‘Hating’.   In retrospect, the ‘have not’ hated on the situational ‘haves’ because of their objects of success (i.e., physical appearance, materials, or academics wealth).  Sadly, we believed, everyone was a possible enemy in the hood.  In simpler terms, poverty’s residues and the lack of proper development constructed bitterness in young people.  Well, it did in my family and ghetto…

Here it is…

Denied Caring’ is defined as: (the ability to appear as if one cares disguised by gifts of raw materials and Bullshit).  Yes sir this is it, I’ll explain, be patient.  Love and its purpose is misunderstood, I believe it’s mistakenly informed by what one gives away.  Well, routinely I threw money and material trinkets at family and friends hoping it would help raise their circumstances.  Money was the ultimate example of love for the giver (me) and receivers (family, friends).  This phenomenon was possibly a cultural spectacle as growing up Black and in poverty your day-to-day existence is paramount or it seemed.  Money soothed relatives and friends’ psyche and placed me in a noble light (I thought).  I was God.  No, I was a Black baby Jesus, yes Black baby Jesus, I like that…(RIP, Phil).

With the money and fame came a hardened soul.  I never learned anything about myself or others (i.e., family, friends).  The All-American success story was bullshit wrapped up in shallow waters of self-indulgence and egotism.  Fuck real love, I’ll buy the knock-off one and everything else you got in the store.  Shit, I was playing the game and being played all at once, what a trip.  Damn, ain’t life grand?

Let’s wrap this thing up…I want to love.  You know true love, as my mother would say, “Some shit you can touch and feel, wipe all over your damn head and body.  Yes, those kind of love relationships, unbridled without the packaged process religious or spiritual B.S.  I do not like making people feel horrible anymore and I take pride in practicing authentic love.  Unfortunately, my past behaviors have created some family and friends to place upon me unpardonable sanctions.  They cannot forgive or forget my ancient personalities and attitudes.  I’m like a damn Michael Myers or Jason, you know the horror cats.  In addition, the strong scent of my past egotism has created a force field that dissolves my soft presence instantaneous.  I’m a victim of my infamous (past) that does not exist.

How alone do other make me feel?

The Invisible Dragon

(All grammatical errors are purposeful)