His was the only other bright Orange hat worn at the retreat, high in the mountains of Shelburne Falls, Massachusetts, over the Christmas/New Year holiday, in December of 2019. Whenever I’d find myself face-planted at
The time is nigh we, as a society, re-imagine the path forward. If we remain clueless, divided not on our beliefs but on what Truth is, we will not make it any further. NO longer
It’s no secret, Buddha is my Prince. But it’s fair to assume Tulsa is my Baby. Named after the city in Oklahoma which hosted my birth; Tulsa is the runt of his litter, and the
In striving to live a life of balance, intent defines the virtue of our desires. Yet, I believe that in standing up to those who mean us harm, when we do so with love, without
What is Love? Love is a realm of the individual soul being first that can only manifest into a deeper experience shared with another after. When confounded by any codependent desire for the Love of
There I stood. We moved but I stood, and I stood a little more, at the intersection of 9th and U street on that bustling Friday night in June. My White friend had just called
Truth is Black. Rhythm is Black. Soul is Black. It’s all Black. Freshness is Black. Excellence is Black. Culture is Black. It’s all Black. The Root is Black. Sisters are Black. Brothers are Black.
Far, you stand. I wait, then sit. Lips too shy, too tame to wish. Harsh, this wait. Blind love, fast fix. Closed, our eyes too wide to miss. Share told lies. Once true, now myth.
Sweet punishment’s weakened blow, the moment our wrong things met. It was the wrong time, and still a time I dreamt of saying all the wrong things to you. Tempers frenzy with emotion over what
The stillness of your stare could lessen a million mountains to crumbled bedrock. Infamous by now, the wisp of your presence as you saunter into a room could make even silk textures envy. Poets of
Distractions tend to fail shy of disrupting my infatuation. Your face I can’t forget, forever ingrained in my consciousness. The way I felt that night, that morning, indescribable. As a young boy, I oft misplaced
Alas, my muse! Many lives have I awaited your return. Without surprise, such countless days were starting to become a bore. Time, now just halted injustice captured by delayed damnation. The cruel isolation of despair;
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Truth is Black. Rhythm is Black. Soul is Black. It’s all Black. Freshness is Black. Excellence is Black. Culture is Black. It’s all Black.
Far, you stand. I wait, then sit. Lips too shy, too tame to wish. Harsh, this wait. Blind love, fast fix. Closed, our eyes too
Sweet punishment’s weakened blow, the moment our wrong things met. It was the wrong time, and still a time I dreamt of saying all the
The stillness of your stare could lessen a million mountains to crumbled bedrock. Infamous by now, the wisp of your presence as you saunter into
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