Why I Write...

Rhyme & Reason

I don’t do this

because I believe

I am gifted,        

but rather,

because there are plates

of weight on my heart

that sometimes

must be lifted.

And sometimes

I have that strength

and actually make

a difference

in someone else’s life

when they read

words I have written

born of strife

and other complexities

of this life

I have been given

for reasons

that defy my explanation –

like miracles, or sleights

or effectual incantations

performed by

masterful magicians.

Things that seem discordant

like notes played

by jazz musicians

until on...

Good Karma

I find my peace within.

There is no external force

or influence that makes me win

or lose.

Presented with choices,

I choose

what my inner voice is advising

and then I make my moves.

I don’t have time to see

if you agree with my decisions.

I place my faith in me

instead of organized religions.

I make alliances

that facilitate some mutual benefits,

but bounce on any movement

that requires I enlist.

I’m not a follower or leader;

I’m just my own man.

Accept the consequence of anything

done by my own hand.

Took half my life to learn that lesson

and embrace my grown man.

I now take on responsibility

with a sure but slow hand.

Steady be my movements.

Deliberate my steps.

I’ll try to leave room for improvemen...

Ms. Insecurity

I'm no stranger to insecurity.

We know each other intimately.

She knows which buttons to press

in order to get me to manifest

my hesitation, promote my procrastination,

and stoke my fears of failure

into fire storms of immobilization.

Until that voice that says,

"Son, times-a-wasting,"

starts nagging in my head,

and hunger decides to break in

demanding to be fed.

Refusing to be denied.

You thought I'd quit, b!tch?

You're mistaken.

- HymnAgen

Why & What

They ask me, “What?”

What is my fascination with adoration and infatuation?

Not taking into consideration that these are the kernels

from which the lifeblood of man and wife love

springs forth.

They ask me, “Why?”

Why do I trivialize my ink addressing such things

when in less time than the blink

of a human eye our brothas and sistas die?

Rarely taking the time to think

that love gives rise to devotion;

that your heart when it has your nose open

will sacrifice itself so their hopes and

their dreams not only survive…but thrive,

renewing your purpose in being alive. So, I sigh…

For What and Why need not be asked.

Just look at our black family’s past:

When family bonds were armor.

When our matriarchs were honored

as the ...

Moved To Tears

I count myself blessed

by a radio moment I shall never forget.

Each word that I heard

as their testimony unfurled

blew me further away

from the selfish concerns

of my insignificant world.

How could that one

forgive the unforgivable?

How could the other

earn the undeserved?

How could they make

their desolate lives livable?

My throat constricted

more the more that I heard

from these resilient spirits –

trying hard to choke back the tears it

seemed my ears pumped

from my heart’s bottomless reserves.

Like water from aquifers –

feeding my amazement,

growing my reverential awe

by showing me death, time and remorse

could bring forth a pure

and honest love.

A love a repentant murderer could profess

and have receive...

Let My Fly

Let me fly!

Break these chains

that bind me to this plane of reality.

Change the law,

and release me from gravity’s

oppression of my flesh and bone!

Let me visit other zones,

other realms, higher dimensions.

Let my soul claim the ascension

promised in common myths…

No hope in brok-en prom-i-ses.

Let me rise above this earthen mud –

take in a God’s eye view,

and feel the limitless potential

of my brainwaves coursing through

my very essence

like bolts of discharge!

Let me ride the ripples of time as if God

dipped his finger in cosmic pools!

Break these chains that forever

keep me tethered to a land of fools!

Who value mammon over logic…

Who abandon na...

Finding My Place

Distress is subdued in hues of amber and blue.

Summer’s heat in retreat like ebbing tides from bare feet

as I stand atop sands of geologic time’s grind.

Suspended in zephyrs, cool, misty sea brine

kisses my skin like her lips’ soft caresses.

This is bliss, and I am wholly cognizant of it.

I dwell in space-time that ignorance covets.

I love this state of mind. This peaceful state of mine

perceives sweet melodies in the rhythms of the sea.

Crashing waves on beaches highlight abstract masterpieces

painted by the death of Horus under clouds in skies before us

at day’s ending.

The impending dark of night patiently waits

upon the dimming vestiges of Horus’ raiment to abate,

and it makes me contemplate mankind’s inevitable fate.

With my ...

I Got That Work

What some may see

as my morbidity,

I see as my…

motivation.

Preserving my legacy’s

a preoccupation of mine.

None of us knows when

“how” and “where” will align

with their

expiration date.

So why live life awaiting fate?

Me?

I’m going after what I want

despite any jeers or taunts them crabs try

to tractor beam my backside with.

Have me back slide?

Shheeee- it.

I’m on my broke extension ladder.

It just goes up.

I can’t fall backwards…unless I let go,

but I’m old school:

kung-fu grip like nappy-headed,

twelve inch, G.I. Joe!

So I do these katz

tryi...

The Poetess

http://headroominations.blogspot.com/2015/03/the-poetess.html

I read her words

of adoration,

and in gazing

upon their beauty

I sometimes wish

the inverted image

cast in her eye…was I.

That she viewed me

as That Guy.

That mine

was the swagger

that has her

so reflective

she has no way

to express it

but for

the poetic method.

To be perused

as her muse

would be my honor –

make my spirit gleam

like polished armor.

Her verses almost

make me want her.

With each read

I doubt my doubts

until I pull

myself back out

of her imagery.

Such pleasure

her words have given me

that I treasure

her words of intima...

Kindred Motivation

Cerebral

or made plain,

I view each

with eyes that honor

the honesty

therein contained

as unrestrained

vulnerabilities.

The “No shame in this,”

sporting activity

that warms my core as

twin orbs absorb

hand-picked,

emotive thoughts –

outpoured

on pages

of leaf

or web

for relief.

Dread that once

filled heads

made dead

through release

of some heavy sh!t

like lead,

so in wrest

in a piece

rest is found –

inner peace

This is all

that we seek…

‘nough said.

-HymnAgen