Monday, December 22, 2008

Silent All These Years

Years go by will i still be waiting
for somebody else to understand
years go by if i'm stripped of my beauty
and the orange clouds raining in my head
years go by will i choke on my tears
till finally there is nothing left
one more casualty
you know we're to EASY easy easy

She said that she thought she would kill her baby. She said that her insurance would go up and they would take more money out of her check. So close. He almost made it to Christmas.

I just sat there listening.
I just sat there listening.
He was dying.
I just sat there listening.

Do you know how that kills me? How pieces die?

Like that time she told me about her relationship with some boy and I couldn’t share because the thought of some boy would make her stomach turn. How about that time I begged her to come when all he could do was cum?

When she explained to me the details of her sex life, I died 1000 times thinking about how she would vomit disgust when I told her about mine. I have never been in my sex life because I’ve been there…somewhere else…thinking about that same vomit.

He could tell me his whole life story and all I could give is bit and pieces because I knew that only one bit would send everything drizzling downhill.

So I sat down, got dressed up, and played the same notes that I knew would get a standing ovation…hoping one day they would consider standing to some different notes.

Don’t forget the time my grandfather kept asking me over and over again about my girlfriend. Never about my school or my grades that I gave up life to earn. He never asked about the job that took all my time… about the internship that they said was impossible to get…but I got it…With no sleep…I got the impossible. But it has never been about things with any of them… just about the girl.

So yeah, I have tons of girl friends but no girlfriend. Is that all? No that is not all. Did you know she wanted to kill her baby? Not my girl friend…but your little girl. Get off all those invisible girls and get on that visible girl. Most of all she needs some talk and not a listen. I don’t think Jesus is getting through at the moment.

Of course I couldn’t get through. I have made me invisible. I have been on mute, somewhere underneath, in a room, with a computer and some earphones, melting away.

Do you think I’ll always play along?
That I will always listen?
That my feedback, at most will be never from my own experience.
I can’t give my experiences.
I don’t know my experiences.
Do you think that I will ever be in depth?
Do you think that I will get tired of playing in this role… this con…this fake… this contrived fucking bullshit?
Will I ever be able to get me back?

P.S. some things inside just do not come out.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

I Am My Father's Son

So it ends so it begins
I'm my father's son
Plant another seed of hate
in a father's son

I must have been about seven or eight. I was still dressed in my dark, navy blue trousers, white striped Ralph Lauren polo, and some nautical off-brand moccasins. I was looking rather spiffy. Come to think of it, I always looked spiffy growing up as a poor black boy. My mother was a hardworking woman who would wear scrappy dresses and undone shoes, so I could wear Ralph Lauren. I LOVE HER FOR THAT.

Anyways, my mother, grandmother, and I were in some department store; I think Sears. We were looking at pots and pans and out the corner of my eyes, I spotted this crazy-looking man and I just could not take my eyes off of him. He had a dark complexion and terrible skin. His face was bumpy. He was skinny and short. He was with this fat lady who had patted down, nappy hair. When he laughed, I realized that on top of his awful, awful, appearance, he had a nerve to be missing his front tooth. I thought that this man was a wreck, and even at the young age of seven, other people wrecks made me laugh! I had this loud, boisterous, obnoxious, laughter. My mother hated it and still hates it. As soon as I started laughing, my grandmother and mother heads turned instantly, and before they could give me that evil, you better cut your shit short eye, my mother looked like she had just seen the devil himself. I will never forget her stoic, blank face. What was happening? I stoped laughing quickly. Being a true, true Mama's Boy, I sensed that something was wrong and my stomach turned sour. My mother walked me over to that ugly man and the uglier woman standing beside him.

She then uttered words that I will never forget. "Eugene this is your son. Jay this is your dad". I looked around all over. That hideous, drunk man was my father. I had never seen a picture of him and nobody talked about him. I made up these fantasies about who he was and what he looked like, but now I was looking at a man who I thought was really ugly and really drunk. The first thing that ran through my mind was that this meant I was ugly too. He was ugly. I was ugly. I kept replaying that in my mind.

All Eugene said was, "hey son. I'm your dad".

I just looked. He and my mom went back and forth for about thirty seconds. My grandmother was just standing there, squeezing my hand, doing some serious gagging herself. Didn't he know about Doughnuts for Dads? My elementary school had this shit every year and every year I made up some new lie why my daddy could not come. My dad did not even say bye to me. His last words were "Call me sometimes." Where the hell was I going to get his number? I did not cry that day. I bled.

P.S. I still feel ugly.

I Can Feel The Distance

CHINA all the way to new york
i can feel the distance
getting close
you're right next to me
but i need an airplane
i can feel the DISTANCE
as you breathe.

I feel it. I feel it quite often. I feel it when I sit in my prestigious all-male classroom and nobody dares talk to me. I feel it when I am at the barbershop and he's looking at me differently and taking my money indifferently. I feel it when I am up late night internet shopping...and the materialistic lust makes me brand new. I feel it when I watch an episode of that simple show that I'm much too embarrassed to say. I wish that my life was like that show. I feel it when I think about all the people that I will have to step on to climb my way to the top. I feel it when I realize that I just cannot realize that "SHE" didn't win the election. I feel it when I got those text messages and I knew that he cried. I thought about all those times that I was him and somebody made me cry. I feel it when nostalgia hits me...but there is just no looking back. I can't. It's been a long journey from where I started and now I dream of Ferragamo briefcases, Burberry Topcoats, a Perfectly Tailored Suit from Hugo Boss, a freckled face assistant that I can scream at, a Firefighter Red Hummer, a Bank Account That Never Says No, and the Infinite Hunger that Les often speaks of. I'm hungry Les. I've been hungry for a very, very, VERY long time. But Mr. Brown, I'm also confused. I'm confused and lonely. I'm confused, lonely, and numb. What is it that I feel? Everything. Nothing.

P.S don't worry Les, I'm still hungry most of all.