Evolve my resolve if only to solve (if only to solve)
Life’s biggest questions with more questions than answers
While you stay sleep I be woke, then I spoke, we stoke the fire, now smoke
Signals flying high through the air, ask my thoughts on the sign, I just don’t care,
Cause Life just ain’t fair
And I ain’t gone be a scare, I ain’t gone be a scare
It’s time to shine, my rhymes gone rhyme, about damn time
No time, oh, now you fine?
F.I.N.E. that’s cool cause I ain’t got nothing but love for each all, friends, family, loved ones, past present future, and any who may be an enemy
Cause the reflections, they vast, and they true, and guess what, it’s all me, that includes you. We fucked and we free. The Universe is Chaos, but that’s what it means to be.
We and we free. The Chaos has meaning, but that’s what’s chaotic in being.
So let it be, can’t you see, can’t we see, smile for me, smiles ‘n deeds.
Now look in the mirror, the tide of recedes
Part the veil, the tide washes in, a new rise, the sun rise, it lifts up beyond Her, His, Your, My, Our Cries
Our Cries are the audible sound of the ethereal tears of Love, of Joy, of All that the Creator set in motion with the Word.
The other day I was rapping out with this 71 year old Aunty who volunteers with the State to give Seniors a buddy. It was a cool conversation and we somehow talked about how the elderly population has the highest increase in STDs in any population group. I was trying to be PC so I used the word ‘promiscuous’ because somehow, saying ‘f*cking’ or ‘sleeping around’ didn’t seem to flow.
“How come when young people do it, it’s called friends with benefits?!” She asked energetically.
I started cracking up. This lady, she had a spark to her. She went on to tell me her age and that the older you get, the more direct you become, and that she was still out there, looking but not looking hard.
As a licensed wedding officiant, I told her, when you find that person, look me up, I’d like to perform the service.
She laughed, wrote my name down, said our goodbyes and the journey split.
This is a classic. Enjoy.
“No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.”
For Whom The Bell Tolls by John Donne
“No painting is not done to decorate apartments. It is an instrument of war for attack and defense against the enemy.” ~ Pablo Picasso
An instrument, a tool, a vehicle, all of the above for our chosen outlet of expression, applies. Writing at times has been my therapy. It is also my platform. It is the weapon I yield to protect, to defend, and at times strike deep through the experiences of consciousness that I traverse through.
“Lovely day for a walk.” A stranger, who looked like Santa, told me in passing earlier. It’s always a lovely day for a walk because this journey unfolds, step by step. If we are called to speak with our artistic voice, we must listen.