Black Aristocrate:Lawrence

One day on a trip to Lawrence, a city in Kansas I have grown to hate, I got lost on my way around trying to find a bus back to Kansas City. The night I was originally planned to leave I miss my bus buy 20 minutes. I go back to the auditorium where my best friend was having dance practice. Upon Arrival I find that she is gone and all that is left are a few Indian students practicing dance routines. I don't know the students though I am sure they know my best friend. I stand in the doorway for a little bit the handfull of students have not noticed me. A female stands closest to me with her back facing me. "Excuse me….Excuse me miss." She doesn't look back she just stand away from the door. "No, uh…miss I can't find my friend and my phone is dead may I use yours?" She smiles and leads me to the next room so that I may use her cell phone. I use the phone and find my friend. I thank her and leave.


The next day after spending the night with my friend I again try and make the bus however I am 2 blocks away when I see the bus I am supposed to be on speed away from the bus stop I was supposed to be at. I curse loudly to myself. My phone is dead and I am unsure if that was even the bus, as I thought I was early. I notice a white student walking a little bit ahead of me. "A.." I yell out toward him. He doesn't respond. "Hey…" again he does not hear. I make no change to my pitch I simply deepen my voice a bit and…"A-yo my mans!" he looks back quickly and before giving him time to show confusion I avoid eye contact and ask him the time. "a quarter to four." He replies looking at his cell phone.I quicken my pace and walk past him. "bet." I reply as I walk away.

The point of the pen

It makes me feel good to write. It releases something in me. That little voice. You know there is a point to the pain of life. I live to write about life. I'm just a silent observer. The pen is my voice. With a pen to paper I feel heard. Even when my eyes are the only pair to ever hear me I still feel heard. I still feel good. I have proven my point in life. I made words make sense.

Black Aristocrate: Cant even spell his own name

I don't know why it is I can't spell aristocrate the American English way. I guess that's just the way it sounds to me. So that's the way I write it. Ironically enough it's the French spelling of it. So I roll with it. And what's more aristocratic than the French way of spelling aristocrate? Three-some or "ménage à trois"?

Your call, but when it comes to sex and money I'm sounding French.

For the Love of you

I'm livin for the love of you. I live so I can make love to you. What else can I do? Please say you love me too.
I'm living for the taste of you. I'm longing for the smell of you. What else can I do? I love the thought of you.
Wrap me in your love so tight. Squeeze me with all your might. What else can I do?
I live for you

I'm living for the love of you. I live to fall in love with you
what else can I do? I need you to love me too.

Feed me all your love at night. Girl you make me feel all right. What else can I do? You make me feel so true.
Lord know what I will do. If I cant have you. What else would I do? I cant live without you.

I'm living for the love of you. I live to fall in love with you. what else can I do? I need you to love me too.

Your all I ever dream at night. Your all I do at night. What else can I do? But day dream of you.
Your all I'm ever thinking of. Girl you got me in your love. What else can I do? You make me wanna say I do.
I've got to have you to myself. I don’t want nobody else. What can I do? But hope you say that you do.

I'm livin for the love of you. I live to fall in love with you what else can I do? I need you to love me too.

Shoulders of a giant.

When I stand on the shoulders of a giant I see the sky is the limit and the stars proof.
I stand on the shoulders of a giant I am lifted, to a world of a better understanding.
To stand on the shoulders of a giant is to see the universe in all its workings.
I see things I cannot even describe unless you are up there with me.
And from the shoulders of that giant I see my own star growing...
I see my part when I stand on the shoulders of a giant.
The noises below you are not heard from that height.
The concerns below you are not seen that height.
I remember what I didnt even know before.
I find the things I lost before.
It is to finally see the plan.
So I jump off and land on the clouds.

Cloud 17

From my cloud i see the world. I watch as the wind blows my cloud and the world all around me.I watch.
I wonder does the spider know it is the wind that moves the grass and his web around him? What does he make of it? Does his mind not have the understanding to know that his home and body are being moved by a force that he cannot see?
Surly in its own mind it has come up with an explanation of why it is.

I wonder if men react the same way?
Do they not know who moves the wind? Do they not have a reason an explantaion of why it is?

From my cloud I see children playing in a sandbox. They play and mold the sand into diffrent sand castles. Some bigger than others
The children leave the sandbox yet the sandbox and the castles remain. The wind blows and it is as if the children where never there. Yet the sandbox remains.
From my cloud i see the story of life. Men awake in a sandbox of life. You have but a hour to make your impression in the sandbox before the wind comes and blows it all away.
We are but children playing in a sandbox.

Welcome to the Good life

(Inspired by Kanye West 'Good life')

It seems people have the annoying habit of telling me how much potential I have. Yet at the same time I talk with my trusted relationships as if my success is guaranteed. They talk to me as if I am a star in the making.
“Now once you…”
“Remember me when…”
“Don’t forget the little…”
“Pay us a visit and lets us brag about..”
“you are going to owe me money.”
I act as it is only a mater of time before I am sitting back and watching money pile up. I have now given up on trying to convince myself I am just a narcissist. On top of that people tell me I am self centered. One of us is wrong.

It seems that I’m not me I’m this littler person sitting in front of my face. I just sit back and watch my life being pushed in a certain direction. And the only reason I go along with it is because I have dreams of where it will lead me. My head is full of potential. I swear it hurts when I write. But all I can do is write and wait for my girl January. Waiting for the good life. So much has changed this month. I knew it would. But what scares me is that so much has, and the month isn’t over. Is it usual for people to wonder what mental state they will be in at the end of the month? And at the same time dream of a life you don’t live. I really think I am about to go crazy.

Yet as I recall yesterday I was close to telling my mother my dream. What was I thinking? Why ask a hater why they hate you? Not saying she hates me but you get the idea. It’s bad enough she puts these crazy ideas of my potential in my head. She has this idea that because I haven’t followed in her footsteps I haven’t realized my potential. If I was a med student she would know. But I am a artist. Her job is to save lives. Mine is to portray it.

“I’ma get on tv momma
I’m a
I’ma put this shit down”

Having money’s not everything but having it is. I write this in poverty but I will read this again in wealth when I hear Mr. West say “Welcome to the good life.”

Sunshine

(Inspired by ‘you are my Sunshine’)

You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
And when your happy my clouds are ‘way.

I do so love you.
My only sunshine
My only sunshine
Never go away

You are my sunshine
My warmth and sunshine
I’m never happy when you are ‘way

I live for summer.
Your warmth and sunshine
Please wont you be mine
Never go ‘way

You are my sunshine
I love you sunshine
You make me happy when thoughts are gray.
And like the sunshine I’m never lonely
My lovely sunshine your always there

I feel your sunshine
through the darkest cloud line
My lovely sunshine.
Don’t fade away

You are my sunshine
My only sunshine.
Every time your smile shines.
I see the sunshine. The golden sun shine.
On your brown skin.

And I wonder...

(Inspired by Kanye West I wonder)

And I wonder if you know what it means
What it means
And I wonder if you know what it means
To find your dreams

It means that I finally have a life.
Its all I dream of at night.
If all this is only crap
Why is it you hear this rap?
You know what?
Maybe its you.

And I wonder if you know what it means
What it means
And I wonder if you know what it means
To find your dreams

You get on my every nerve
I’ve put up with a lot of shit you serve
It means I get what I deserve.
Do you even know what you were mad about?
I was just that someone to vent your frustration.
You can think we fussed and fought.
But you actually started arguments with me out of pure agitation
Do you really think I will hop in the car drive back to the crib run back to your arms?
Beatings for not wanting to put on fake charms?
Now you go back and think about what this all really means.

And I wonder if you know what it means
What it means
And I wonder if you know what it means
To find your dreams

I got my life now and it’s mine
I’ve always had the vision I’m going to be someone in this lifetime.
And that’s why I never gave up no matter what you said.
Because I know I’m going to remember every little thing you said.
I can never forget some of the things you said.
How could you say some of the things you said?

It means I was right every time you thought I was wrong.
Something in my eyes told me your words were lies

What did you say?
I was wasting my life?
You cant control me so you hate with all your might?
You know what this all really means? Without you I wouldn’t have my dream.

And I wonder if you know what it means
What it means
And I wonder if you know what it means
To find your dreams

And I wonder if you know…

How to let a good man down

When he tells you he loves you doubt his words and tell him okay.
When he builds the courage to put emotions on paper tell him you are not sure what was said but ‘it was short.’
When on pen and pad he confesses his love for you don’t confess you ever saw it.
When he tells you, you are the apple of his eye, don’t reply.

That is how you let a good man down.

A good man the type your mother warned you about. The type to keep you warm at night. The type to leave love letters for you to find at night. A good man. A good lover. Your best friend. The type you thought you would only dream about. The type you get others confused about. Mixed up with. Mistaken for. A good man.

When a good man asks you for your affection, turn the other direction. When a good man is not silent about his love for you, turn a deaf ear. When a good man shows you love, cast a blind eye. When a good man comes your way let him pass by.

That is how you let a good man down.

The Cynic and The Lover

To fall into love with words with no voice.
To fall in love with a dream with no sight.

Eyes cast toward the sky
Never giving hope a try
Forever saying to never loved is to have never lost
Without giving love a second thought

But I am the lover, I want all she’s got
Her every thought her every want that turns into desire is what I require.

But she is the Cynic, she has all my doubts
All my whispers all my chances all my fingertips down my spine.

I am the lover and she is the cynic and everyday we wake with each others thoughts on our minds and then we talk about each others thoughts on our minds. I am her lover. And she is my cynic. She is my mind and I am hers. The cynic and the lover sharing one mind one line at a time.

The Cynic and the Lover
The Cynic and her Lover

Simple Love

Love is in the way you say my name.
But love is silent and it can never be rushed or forced.
But don’t love me silently
Do it ecstatically…
So you don’t miss the point
Do it with all the voice you have
Or there’s no love to be heard.

…and we will build our bridge of love to cross into each other’s hearts.

I can let you be my momma
and I can be your boy.

I’m in love with you,
I don’t know what to do.
I’m in love with you,
I hope you are to.
I’m in love with you
You know that it’s true
I’m in love with you
I cant wait to say “I do.”

Don’t love me quietly…
Do it with intensity…
So you don’t miss the point
Do it with everything you say
Or there’s no love to be gain.

….and this love is not a simple thing it’s how we simply feel but love is never a thing you simply feel.

I can let you be my momma
And I can be your boy.

A Dream

[Inspired by Jay-Z's a dream]

Last night I had a dream thoughts racing through my head felt so real to me this is what was said to me.

“Had a dream.” I said.
“About what?” he said.
“My life.” I said.
“My life?” he said?
“It flashed before my eyes.” I said.
“Your dying?” he said.
“No.” I said “In dreams.” I said. “I see my life before my eyes.” I said
“is it bad?” he said
“It’s not all good.” I said
“Not good if your talking to me.” He said.
“That’s why I’m here.” I said

Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie
Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie
Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie


“proceed.” He said
“Don’t rush me.” I said.
He said nothing and just nodded what I guessed to be an apology. I repeated what was said. “That’s why I’m here.” I said “It seemed all a dream.” I said
“What they say?” he said
“they made me ask questions.” I said
“About who.” He said
“About me.” I said
“What going to happen to us?” he said.
“What’s not going to happen to us?” I said
“Don’t repeat what I say.” He said
“Life is hard.” I said “Life is sad.” I said
“Life makes you want to dream.” He said
“I see.” I said.
“you do.” He said. “at night.” He said.

Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie

Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie
Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie


“I am such a fool.” I said “Stupid stupid stupid.” I said.
“What’s wrong with me?” he said “What do I fail to understand?” he said
“How can I open my eyes wider?” I said
“Stupid stupid stupid.” He said
“Such a fool.” I said “I try but I aint trying hard enough.” I said “I’m in despair.” I said
“What’s going on?” he said
“Everyday my life is a dream.” I said “I cant get out of it.” I said
“You can only dream out of it.” He said.
“It is so much easier to believe I am stupid and I am wasting my life, than that this dream is reachable.” I said
“This is all you have to hold on to.” He said
“This is all I know to do” I said
“You are writing now.” He said
“Its all I can do.” I said “Everyday I feel as if I have tricked people into beliving I have talent I have a gift.”
“I will be something.” He said
“Everyday I am treated like I have nothing, I am nothing, I have been a major dissapoinment.” I said
“Everyday I amaze someone else.” He said
“Everyday I am told I need to wake up from this dream I am living.” I said
“The hard truth of the matter is…”

Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie
Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie
Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie


“I realize I have doubts, problems, and dreams to squash.” I said
“You realize you have dreams, chances, and places to be.” He said
“But I hold myself back.” I said.
“Back yourself into a corner?” he said
“I realize I cant go back I’m stuck here.” I said “Its now or never.” I said
“Jump now or never.” He said

Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie

Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie
Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie


“you’ll make it I know.” He said.
“I said that yesterday.” I said. “but now it’s Wednesday.” I said
“Or that was Thursday.” He said.
“I cant remember it’s all a dream.” I said “If walking to a dream is like walking a tight rope across the pit of hell then I suspect I have but a fingers grasp on the rope.” I said
“I suspect you have one last bit of hope.” He said
“One last chance at a dream.” I said “It’s a dream.” I said
“It’s an impossible dream.” He said
“On my ankles I feel chains.” I said
“of doubts, disbelief, disappointments, discouragements, and discipline?” He said.
“They make my tight rope trick seem impossible.” I said
“But then again as Beckham said the story is not what you did.” He said
“But what you got through to do it.” He said.
“Impossible is nothing.” He said.
“Just keep doing your thing.” I said. “Say no more.”

Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie
Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie
Was it all a dream?
(it was all a dream) -Biggie

“I’m blowing up like you thought I would.”

Tempest [Part 2]

[Tempest]
“Damn Baby”

It was a sunny afternoon when tempest and I both walked into my room. I closed the door quickly behind her. We both knew what we had come for and to waste words and talk would be a lie from what we were there to do. She didn’t move a step from my door. And I didn’t make her. I sat on my bed and watched as she stripped for me. She started with her shirt seduction in her eyes she slipped the shirt over her head. Tossing that to the side she gyrated her hips as she slipped off her jeans. Realizing I was still fully clothed I started to do away with my socks, shoes, and shirt. By the time I took of my first shirt she stood across from me in socks and panties. She grabbed me with her seduction blinked once and fingered for me to come over. I walked over to where she stood by my closet wall. “Damn baby.” I let out as my eyes ate the details of her body. I found myself staring all over her. And the look of lust that fell from her eyes didn’t help. I knew she was doing the same. I rubbed my hands and eyes all over her body as she played with my belt loosening it. As she had the habit of doing she stuck her hand down my pants feeling around. “Damn baby.” She cooed.
I grinned and that was it for me. I lifted her up against the wall. She wrapped her legs around me.

Roxy [Part one]

Prologue: Roxy

I first met this girl I will be calling Roxy from here on out at Wal-Mart. She gave me her yahoo chat name and it was only a matter of time before we couldn’t hold ourselves away from each other. She was a very shy girl that was waiting to be pulled away. She told me her secret fantasies and insisted that she was not homosexual but she would like to have fun with another girl, and me. She had small but athletic body, she was in gymnastics and her tummy showed the work of 200 plus crunches a day.

She had the habit of pleasuring herself while on the phone with me. Simply the sound of my voice was enough for her. If I wanted to tease her I could say certain words for her and she would squeal and say “Oh, bite me!” I remember the first time we had phone sex. She was using a vibrator her mother had given her. Her ‘bullet’ as she called it.

“I’m your naughty girl aren’t I?”

She was…she was.


[Roxy]
“I love your voice”

One of the things I liked about Roxy was that she was into me. Her eyes didn’t blink without showing me her admiration for me. She held my hand as we walked to a bench that over looked a lake. I looked over at Roxy and she looked up at me flashed me a shy smile with a giggle and looked down. I kept watching her an she looked off in the distance with a look I cant describe. She looked as if she was worried as she stared out into the evening. Ounce at the bench she sat up on the bench and looked for the fish.
“I cant see any fish where are they?” she asks me
“You came here to look at fish?” I ask with a grin squinting at her.
“No indeed.” She flirted
“I came here to look at you.” I said letting her see my eyes undress her
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I said reaching for her hips she slid over on top of my lap.
“Mmm.” She moaned. “I like it when you wear slacks.”
“Yeah?” I ask teasing her.
“Yeah.”
I grab her waist thrusting her closer to me.
“mmm” she again moaned “talk to me.” She said playing with my hair “I love your voice.”
I smiled “What does my naughty girl want to hear?” I laugh
Her face lights up as her eyes squint and nose curls up as she smiles. “hmm bite me, Murimi!”
After much laughter I say “I bet you’d like that.”
“Yes indeed.”
I use my mouth and playfully bite her on the cheek.
“oooh!” she squeals and giggles. “oooh.” She takes her hands holds my face and kisses me. I take my hands and thrust her hips on me again. She stays on my lap and we talk she tells me how she is going to lock me away so no one else can find out about me. “Yes, indeed.” We stare into each others eyes just to see who can last the longest without smiling. Whenever she would lose, “Oh! Bite me Murimi!” as I would bite her and she would squeal for me hold me kiss me and look deep into my eyes. She would hold me close to her chest and look off in the distance. “What’s wrong?” I would ask her. “Hmm.” She smiled and shook her head looking back into my eyes. “What are you thinking about?” I asked her looking over her face. She laughed and shook her head. “What else?” she said still shaking her head at me, her eyes still holding admiration for me. “We are going to have four children.”
I bit her.
After satisfying what lust we could she got off my lap. She did so so slowly and with such seduction I didn’t want her to leave. She stood over my knee and danced her hips around and played with her short black hair. “Just kidding.” She laughed. She waited until I got off the bench and held my hand. She walked infront of me shaking her hips flaunting her ass. I hugged her from behind and she confidently pushed back against me. I gave her a kiss on the cheek that turned into a bite.
“I love when you bite me, Murimi.”

Tempest [Part 1]

Prologue: Tempest

I first met this girl, who I will be calling tempest from here on out at my apartment. A friend of mine brought her over, at the time he was dating/trying to have sex with her. At the time I noticed the girl had a cute face a sexy smile and a beautiful athletic body. She runs track. I can go on for days talking about her body which I have extensive knowledge of. But I wont. That comes later.

I remember when I shook her hand and made basic conversation with her she seemed a bit different in the head. In a good way. My friend had secured a girl with a body and some brains. I kept conversation polite and short, I just wanted to know who this sexy young stranger was sitting on my couch.

As the night wore on it was time, tempest felt, to go back to her place. I drove both tempest and my friend back to her house. Inside the house I stood awkwardly by the front door I felt out of place, and a polite excuse to leave was not on mind. Tempest offered me some cookies which I politely refused and said “But thanks, I gotta head out and get some sleep.” I left and as I got into my car I got the feeling that I would see more of her. I knew that we would have sex. Not from a cocky standpoint. As if to say I knew she couldn’t resist my charms. Because at first she did. But from the standpoint that it has already happened. So this book is a story of what has happened.



[Tempest]

“Your not my type”

A party isn’t a party without beer,liquor, and ladies. Or beer liquor and bitches depending on your upbringing. I first got my real taste of Tempest at a party at my apartment. I had some grey goose in my system but not enough to get me drunk. I was still very clear headed as I sat at my kitchen table talking to Tempest. She took a conservative sip of her Budweiser. “you are definitely cute though, Murimi.” She grinned at me. I leaned back in my chair with a grin of satisfaction.
“So…what’s up?”
“Your just not my type.” She said looking over my shoulder to the rest of the party. I closed my eyes to recive the blow of defeat. “ouch, really?” I ask sitting back up straight.
She nods slightly and frowns pity. “Yeah.” Taking another sip.
I look over her body as we sit in the dimly lit room. Even through her jeans I can see her well built theighs. All those years of running track has deffintly paid off. Though I have not had a chance to really look at it I already know she has s sexy ass. Running track has done her body good. Now as I sit across from her trying my best to get into her head so I can do her body good. I softly sigh.
“It’s like that?” I ask trying to get her to change her mind with my best smile I could come up with.
“It’s like that.” She repeats to me with a smile of her own that tried to hide the fact she meant what she said. She calmly took another sip of her Budweiser. I look over her body and say my goodbye’s in my head.
“Okay that’s cool.” I say “I wont even mess with you like that, it’s all good.” I get up from my seat to leave the kitchen.
“Sorry.” She says after me still smiling.
I walk around the rest of the apartment and interact with the rest of the guests. I drank moderately so conversation is lost to me however as I stood by myself in the corner of the kitchen looking down my bottle of Grey Goose she walked back into the dimly lit kitchen. My eyes squinted as I watched her body walk across my eyes. She stand by the stove awkwardly.
“Hey tempest…let me talk to you again real quick.”
She doesn’t reply she just smiles and walks up to me. The alcohol in my system starts to talk for me. My lips are wet with sex and my words come out lustful. “Now…tell me again how I’m not your type.” I ask her.
“I don’t know.” She looks my eyes over.
I reach out behind her and rub my hands over her body, before I even touch her she steps closer to me.
“I don’t see how, someone with all that can’t be my type.”
I laugh
“You like it baby?” she asks me as she turns her body and backs me into the corner.
I can only laugh. I feel myself losing grip of myself. I lower my head to her neck and lightly kiss up and down her neck. With every kiss she pushes her body against me. By the time I get to her cheeks she turns her body again and kisses me. I put my grey goose bottle on the counter and hold her hips as she gets lost in my kisses. I break the kiss as I feel her hands play with my belt. I look down and she I sticking her right hand down my pants. “Oh, baby let’s go.” She grabs my hand and leads me to my room.

Soccer Match

I’m watching friends of mine play Soccer. It’s crazy soccer has become such an American sport now. I introduced one of the players of this soccer game, to the beautiful game via soccer 07 for the play station 2. Speaking of that young man he lets a child score a goal on him as I write. He laughs it off and throws his hands in the air. “I got sandals on.” He hears my laugh and looks over at me with a smile he quickly reassures me he can “Kill me at FiFa right now.” I can really see soccer as being bigger than basketball and baseball easy. The dream team is dead. And Baseball is…baseball. What a scene here in Kansas watching two African Americans, one African, one Caucasian, and two Hispanic play soccer. Soccer what a beautiful game.

Make that three African Americans.

[Written after the match]

Got sweaty and bruised up but had a good time none the less. During a round of penalty shoot outs the children lined up and played camera with their fingers every time I lined up for a shot. “Click-Click” they would laugh out. “Okay time for Mr. Famous guy.”

The beautiful game.

The Pen

Follow your dreams…that’s what they say. They say never give up hope. They are quick to tell me how to run my life but…

So I know a man…I lie…I am that man. But I do know him. He puts thoughts into a pen. He can’t put his thoughts in people. They don’t listen. They don’t care. They don’t know. If they only knew. This flimsy cheap pen. This 5 cent ink and ball item know more of me/ him then you could ever hope to know. Than you want. Somehow this flimsy pen can hold the pressure of my hope and fears. The pen is everything to me. Best friend, wife, stranger, me. The pen is how I talk to myself. The pen is how I see myself. The pen is how I love myself. “Steven…meet your future.” The pen said. So I picked it up and wrote it.

JCCC Letters

You left me here to wait for you...as you run around and run errands at JCCC. Sitting in the corner waiting for you to return with that smile and the words...'Okay I am back' I am waiting for you to appear right around the corner. I look outside the glass eager and ready to see you. Again I am a kid and I wait for Santa clause. I figured as I wait for you I can write you a letter...and let you know how much I miss you. I still don't see you yet...and I frown.My eyes look and graze people and women looking for details of you. Light skin....long hair....curvs...all these details my eyes hunt for in the people that pass by my window. In hopes that it will be you.I stand to get a better view of where I last saw you. A better view of where you walked away from my eyes. I close my eyes to get a better view of you.And yet....When I open them you are still gone.I miss you already.I again feel like a kid waiting for Santa. Though it feels like I have overslept on the 24th and have to wait a whole year again.I miss you.And even though you are onlyRight down the way...right down the hall....I miss you.I don't have any music playing as I peck at my phone trying to forget that I don't have my pen to transfer my emotions onto. I use the silence of other peoples lives as music. I sit and I type. I sit and I look out the window. I sit and I wait. And no one else matters. The people live around me but the only reason I know they are theire is becuase I know they aren't you.I give them my eyes only long enough to know it is not you...then I pluck my eyes from them and focus on you. Even though you are no where around.I grow worried. You are at.....You just called. You gave me the option of leaving my glass post and going to the library. I turned that down. You asked me to wait here for you. I am to sit by and wait for you to return. So that is what I will do. Through the phone call I find out that I am to stand guard at the glass post for at least 15 minutes. Which really means 30 minutes.She blocks my way but I don't care....I have time to burn peering out my window. She stands and smokes a cig. I am forced to give her my eyes. She blocks my way. Grey sweater moppy hair...real manly look about the face. She stands and shifts her weight to her left leg before blowing smoke out of her body. She paces around the trash can. Inhales the smoke of her cig and stand up straigt. She turns and her eyes catch mine. And I look in her. She looks at me. Keeping the correct social norms she looks away and blows out more steam before abdoning her cig and walking away.I can see now. But I don't see you. I don't look up as much anymore. I have a long wait. I am starting to feel the full lenght of 15 minutes. I am starting to.....More people. A man and a women. The man has a hat. Black hat with symbols that look like new York. They talk. The women shifts her body to him and they talk. The smoke they blow between words flies away toward the glass. My glass. If I handnt the glass the smoke would also carry theire words to me.I am bored...and my fingers hurt but I still cannot see you. Why do you make me wait so? I lose time by looking out the window sitting and staring at the walls outside. If I stare at the red brick walls long enough will you jump out? Will I finally get to see you again? I should try.Distractions!Two girls come and sit next to me. They come and bring giggles and talks of portugese wine to my lonly glass post. I ignore them...and my eyes race around in the sky trying to speed time.I turn and I face outside. I should see you now. Haven't my eyes danced in the sky long enough? I turn and I type. My head drops and my eyes dart only to make sure that 'a' is being typed and not 'e'.I still do not see you.I am afraid I will fall asleep at my post. I am here to watch for you...yet my arms ache and my back demands to be un slouched. I start to think back and wonder...I am stuck here. I need you to leave...Why did you leave me?Ugh! He is in the way! What if he is in the way when you come? Then I won't see you. He has a red bookbag and further blocks my view of you. And you aren't even theire. He talks on the phone un moved and un concerned that he bothers me so. He smokes and talks...he looks at me. He can see how my head jolts up every 2 to 6 seconds. He knows I look outside. He blocks my way.And then he walks and my eyes try and race around him and see you.You are not theire. My eyes crash to the ground and I grow bored with boredom.That's you! That's the black.No.She is far aways and she wears a black hoodie. In my boredom and excitment to see you I mistook someone else for you. She doesn't even have the brown hair...the light skin...the curves. I got my hopes up.You are still gone.The colors in the red wall seem to change depending on the brick. Some don't even seem red. They seem purple. Maybe even brown. My eyes and mind work as one to find a pattern in the brown purple and red brick wall. It seems to be in some kind of order....

#18

My love where have you gone? The wind whispers your name past my ears when I step outside. So I whisper I love you when the wind blows in hopes that it sends the message past your ears. So I hope that wherever you are you hear the wind.

My love where have you gone? I dreamed of you last night you were so close I reached out and felt the face of the woman who is etched on my soul. I reached out and kissed the lips of the woman who breathes love into my lungs. I reached out and held the woman who makes me thank-God I am alive. And when I awoke I was holding my pillow softly in my arms, and I cried into the pillow because my real life is a nightmare without you next to me. My love where have you gone?

I search every corner and every alley of my mind looking for ways to bring you back to me. In every chamber of my heart I look for the secrets of my love that may help me find you my love, wherever you may have gone.

Do you search for me as I search for you, my love? Do you long for me as I long for you, my love? Are your dreams of me reflections of what your life should be with me, and your life a nightmare without me? Do your minutes thinking about me turn into hours thinking about me until it has been days without me?

My love where have you gone? Take me along to where you are. I’ll be like the wind and breathe quietly my love past your ear. Take me with you where have you gone? Take me with you everywhere you go I will be just like the wind telling you I love you where you go.

My love, search for me in your heart. Find me in all your dreams. See me in everything you need. Spot me in all your desires. My love, tell me you love me next time the wind blows, and I will follow the sound of your love. I will find you and breathe quietly my love for you past your ear.

I just wish

I just wish you knew what you mean to me, maybe then you wouldn't have to be mean to me. I am only a man and I make my mistakes, I just wish you knew that hurting you is not a mistake I want to make. I just wish I could take it all back. I just wish I could of done things differently. And before I know it I'm out of wishes.

I just wish you were here with me.
I just want you here with me.
I wish you were here with me.
So you could be here and wish with me.

I just wish you won't leave me. Had I known I would of caused you this much pain, I'd rather wish I never been born. I just wish I could take all your tears I've made you cry and cry them myself. As long as I never see you sad again. I just wish I never make you mad again. And before I know it I'm all out of wishes.

I just want you here with me.
I wish you were here with me.
So you could be here and wish with me.

I just wish you never forget how much I love you. I wish you knew how much I loved you. I wish my love was a diamond so you could see how much it's worth and have my love at your fingertips. I would rather be your genie, and never wish again. Instead I would make all your wishes come true. I would be your anything and everything…your wish is my command. And you'd never run out of wishes.

I just wish you were here with me.
I just want you here with me.
I wish you were here with me.
So you could be here and wish with me.

I'll do anything for you

I’ll do anything for you, just ask. Matter of fact you never have to ask. I’m ready to give you everything so you’ll never have to ask. You’ll never have to want, never have to desire I’ll do anything for you. I’ll do anything to keep you happy. So when you come back from work. I’ll have your favorite movie ready, I’ll have your favorite meal ready, I’ll have my hands ready to rub the stress from your feet. I’ll do anything for you. You mean everything to me so I’ll do anything for you.

I’ll do anything, yes I fix most anything
I’ll do anything (Anything?) Anything for you.


I’ll do anything for you. I will hide nothing from you. I will give you all I have and my pride for you. Your words are the only one’s that matter to me. You are the only one that can tell me anything. You are all I trust to tell everything. I’ll do anything you ask, you’re the only person I ever hear. I hear you love loud and clear and my heart obeys. The sound of ‘I love you.’ from your lips will always reach my ears. No matter where you are. You command my heart and I’ll never disobey your love. I’ll do anything for you.

I’ll do anything, yes I fix most anything
I’ll do anything (Anything?) Anything for you.


Your love is a feeling I never want to be without. Your love is something I can’t think without. Without your love I can’t do anything. So I’ll do anything for you. Your love is what I need to heal my broken heart. I’ll do anything to heal my broken heart just so long as you take my broken heart, I’ll do anything for you. I’ll do anything for you to stay with and never leave my side. I’ll do anything for you to stay with me and one day be my bride. Please stay with me forever by my side.

Speaker's Inferno

Abandon hope all ye who enter.

I’ve been to hell a few times. Well not me but hearts of mine have. See to me you can never love with the same heart after it has been broken. You have to grow a new one. A new love with a new heart, even if it’s a old love. Hell is a place where my old hearts burn until they are nothing but dust. Like the dust that is carried by the outside wind, with no concern from me. From dust it was made and to dust it returns. Some people don’t have the heart to grow another after it burns. They don’t understand you need someone else’s heart to grow your own. The seed of love must come from somewhere.

I will tell you about my hell and the torment it brings me. I will tell you about my hell and the justice it provides me. I will tell you about my hell and the closure it never gives me.

I pray I never have another heart go to hell.
I know the pain of an unfelt love.
I know the feeling of having to cage up your love.
I know the rejection of unreturned love letters and unspoken words of passion.

I know the sound of it, the feel of it the pain of it.

The tragedy and pointlessness of it all, the blank expression and hopelessness of It all. I have sent off many hearts to their fiery doom. I have learned so much. Love is understated over rated, and not appreciated by those that have it. I only know what hell has taught me. Trial and error. Trial by fire. If ever I can grow a heart that can connect with her own and capture her affection. I will let the world know what true love is. But until that day, the world will only know how hot my hell is.

I’m trying to avoid an emotional slump I’ve been facing for years. I’ve never really stood in the mirror and faced the tears that stream down my face. When you feel the pain, you just want it to stop. You feel your heart stop. And your world stops. But your emotions keep coming, no matter how much or how long you stand crying wondering when your life will stop

Stop.

Stop the tears, stop the emotions, stop the pain, start the self guided tour through hell. The place I take my heart every time she breaks it. They say hell is a place souls go to be apart from God. My personal hell is a place my heart goes to be apart from her. And my heart sits in hell doubts and self consensus all around it. And my heart burns. It burns among the ashes of other hearts I have grown for her. Every time I am foolish enough to grow a heart she send it to hell with her words.
“play by the rules.”
“Don’t make me be a bitch to you.”
“I don’t have time to talk to you.”
Fire and brimstone, fire and brimstone, my heart was made for the fire and brimstone.

And I sit at my hearts grave and I cry. I hold my chest and I cry. Not for the lose of my heart. For the fact that, that was going to be the heart she loved. That would be the heart she saved from the fire and brimstone. I let her smile plant a seed in me and I showered it with my admiration for her. And I know nothing else.

As I wake my heart is long burnt and the stains of agony have dried on my face. Yet the pain is still on my chest. I still see her in my eyes.

I call her, she tells me she is sorry. I am sorry to. I feel her smile, and a seed is planted in me. I am glad she is not gone, and the seed grows….

Over and again/again and over/over and over/again and again

I counted the ways

I have nothing but thoughts of you in my mind. So please don’t hold it against me if I laugh when I write. Every letter I write to you is like the very first one. I know what I want to say but not how. I know why I want to say it but not when. I don’t know what to say.

What can I say that I haven’t already?
“I love you.”
“I need you.”
“You are everything to me.”

What can I say that I haven’t already?
“Don’t leave me.”
“I miss you.”
“I think about you always.”

What can I say that I haven’t said already?
“I cant write without you.”
“I can barely breath without you.”
“I don’t ever want you gone.”

What can I say that I haven’t already? Yet every time we talk on the phone it can easily last hours. And every time we see each other time can never go slow enough. We go to sleep thinking about each other and wake up talking to each other.

A sonnet by Elizabeth Browning starts off: “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” Ever since you spoke to me that you wish me to never utter my love for you I have kept count in my head off all the times and ways you bring love to my lips. Every time you make me want to run and climb on top of a building and yell out “Alfina!....I love you!” But I don’t. I remain clam while under your control and keep myself content with your smile. The past two days with you filled me with admiration for you. I still remember Tuesday sitting in the part listening to me ramble on and on. And even though I did not speak them many thoughts about you floated around with the smoke in my mind. I love your joy. Your smile. Your laugh. To count the number of smiles you give me would be too easy. Your smile is love. Instead I count your eyes. I remember I asked you why you poke fun at me so much, you said ‘love.’ I thought about it. I wanted to tell you how I felt as well. I saw your eyes. And I saw that you loved me. I counted the ways. I remember how you are always so quick to pick up lint off me or stray debris from my clothes. Yet at the same time you put your own stray hair over me. I saw your eyes, and I counted the ways. We always play around and joke. Our mutual love for each other allows us to confide and trust one another. I see your eyes when I help you with English papers. I counted the ways. You make bets with me so I don’t go out and buy you things. I see your eyes, and I counted the ways. I could give you the world…and you would still thank me for it. I counted the ways.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee with all my heart even if your did not return it.
I love thee so that I can live without bread and water, but not without your love.
I love thee that your words I put ahead of my own, no matter what I say.
I love thee and my soul has dreams about being with you.
I love thee, words cannot explain it.
I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life, and if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

Brown Eyed Devil (4)

A few days passed and I allowed my life to move on. I let my mind bury the memories of Raphael under the burden of life. Sunday rolled around and my girlfriend had dragged me out church shopping. Thanks to my new found interest in fashion I was able to put together a modest navy suit. Much to my girlfriends delight my clothes weren’t a wrinkled mess. I had long forgotten the name of the church she dragged me to. I had no interest then, and to be honest I have no interest now. We sat together in a middle row. I sat slightly slumped bible in hand. My eyes scanned and paced the words within as my ears stopped the words from reaching within. “And he says he will open up blessings to which you will not have room enough to receive.” The shouts sweated out by the preacher flew out of the other side of my face as soon as they come to one side. I dug in my pocket for on index card and pencil. I put the note card inside the bible and faked note writing. I drew smiley faces, My girlfriend sat attentive to the sweaty shouts of the preacher and added to the echo’s of ‘amen’ and ‘all right nows’. I had long since run out of note card space. I finally lifted my eyes from my smiling note card. The preacher waved his arms “And he said I…now…now remember this now…what does he say now?” I get up and walk to the back of the church. I need any excuse to get up and walk. Any reason to not listen. Any chance to empty my bladder. After much delay I decided to emerge from the back of the church. As I return I note the seat next to my girlfriend was taken by another woman who was attentive to the preacher as she was inattentive to the world around her. She mumbled her chants of ‘amen.’ I look for a new spot. I go to the back row discretely hidden in the back row sat several empty spaces on a pew. A little boy sat alone by himself in the middle of the pew. Without a moments hesitation I took a seat a few spaces away from the boy. I felt that standing would bring unnecessary attention to myself. As I take my seat I realize that I left the bible with my girlfriend I had nothing to flip through and scan over to pass the time. Desperate for entertainment I let me eyes wander in the church. Trying to guess and understand each individual they came across. As I turned my head from right to left I let my eyes settle on the little boy sitting next to me a few spaces down. My heart quicken and my blood filled with hot adrenalin. All the memories came busting through the layers of life I had tried to bury it with. It was Raphael. He sat unmoved head straight ahead. He wore a red short sleeve dress shirt with brown khakis. I shook my head and forced my head forward; but my eyes in my mind stayed on him. I could feel him sitting in silence. I could see his large brown eyes. I could sense he knew I was next to him.
“And see you gotta trust in God, just trust God and everything else..” the pastors voice drained in and out of my ears. My concentration was seized by Raphael. I played with words and sentences in my mind trying to think of what to say.
“Raphael?” I murmured under my breath. I wasn’t sure if he had heard me under the shouting. I turned as out of the corner of my eye I see him casually turn his head toward the sound of my voice. “Andre.” As he responds in the same tone I remember from before. The way he says my name almost makes me jump. I want to believe he has practiced it. As if we have met here before.
“Hey...it’s you. What’s up?” I ask.
He simple shakes his head.
“Not much of a talker huh?” I keep going trying to get conversation from him. I wanted more out of him than two or three words.
“Not when I have nothing to talk about.” He says his eyes seizing me. I wasn’t as shacked by his gaze. I allowed his eyes to enter me without hesitation. Locked in by his eyes I carried on.
“What brings you to church today? Parents brought you?” I asked him.
“I’m here for the hell of it.” He says non-chantilly as he nods toward the pulpit.
“Ask and ye shall receive!” the preacher patted himself off and spoke again. “Yes sir he said you can’t receive if you don’t ask, he waitin’ for you to ask!” he roared over the audience. As I watched Raphael glare at the preacher my attention shifted towards the congregation. Those that were awake and paying attention seemed to be lost in the preachers words. They swayed from side to side uttering ‘amen’s’ to fill the silence. Raphael and I sat and studied the people until the pastor stopped for a short break. He needed to give his lungs a rest.
Raphael turned his head toward me. “You should met a couple of people.” Raphael said hoping out the pew. He slipped past me and headed for the isle. I followed him and once in the isle people began greeting and hugging me. I watches as Raphael was able somehow to skillfully dodge and weave between them. I wasn’t so lucky.
“Hello brother.”
“Hey.”
“How’s it going?”
“Lord keep you brother.”
I was greeted by every person I walked by. They all embraced me with their words. They all seemed very friendly, all very eager to welcome me into the church. One man whom I was forced to bump into when following Raphael forced conversation with me.
“Hey...hey you look new.” The man smiled and out stretched his hand. “Welcome to the church, my names Dante.” I shook Dante’s hand and replied with my won name. “I noticed you look bored sitting all by yourself back there. Don’t go to church much?” he continued placing both his hands back into his suit pants
“Not really…this is my first time in..uh..a” I laughed as I was embarrassed to admit to myself I don’t know the last time I attended church. “A long time.” I finished Dante smiled right along with me. “Hey it’s all right…happens to the best of us. Glad you came by.”
“Thanks” I said as I began to carefully look over Dante’s shoulder for Raphael. I didn’t see him. “Hey…listen.” Dante started but my mind played him off. I had lost sight of Raphael. I was forced to stand in front of Dante and pretend to listen. To keep my mind busy I looked over Dante and picked him apart with my mind. I didn’t notice it before but his eyes reminded me a lot of Raphael’s. They seemed very large.
“And with you sitting over there by yourself I figured, for the hell of it.” As he stopped speaking he caught me looking over his eyes.
“You okay? So what you think?”
I found myself better able to break that brown eyed gaze. I took my eyes out of his and tried to jump back into a conversation I was never in. “Yeah…uh…sounds…ya.” I replied with a shrug of assurance.
“I thought so.” Dante said smiling again and turning toward the church exit. “It wont take long.” He said throwing his head over his shoulder and tossing me a grin. I followed Dante out of the church and as we entered the church parking lot my mind bombarded me with questions I should of bombarded him with. “It’s a church kid…how much trouble I get into?” I asked myself. I didn’t want to know the answer.

In the car Dante looked over his shoulder and backed out. “your gonna like this.” He said looking at me quickly before returning his large brown eyes back into the rear view mirror. “…Riding music…” he spoke again turning a knob on the dash board.
“Cha-YA! Fuck bitches…get money…fuck bitches.” I listened to Dante play and softly mutter his anthem to himself.

Brown Eyed Devil (3)

That night I lay in the bed reading the issue of GQ that Raphael left behind. I had convinced myself that I in fact saw Raphael and he simply ran when I was distracted by the Liberian. I pushed back the soft voice of doubt for the logic I forced myself to believe. I don’t know what moved me to take and read the magazine Raphael left behind. I had never much cared for that sort of fashion. However as I traveled through the pages of expensive suits and woman I felt a new interest in clothes and sex. I must have been intoxicated by the smell of cologne that poured from the book because as soon as my girlfriend walked in the room she commented “Wow” she chuckles “you okay it’s not supposed to hurt that much to read.” Startled by her laugh I jumped. She stood in front of the bed with her hand on her hips and a frown of her own. She was the only woman I knew who could keep such a cute frown on her face. She frowned her smiles, laughs, anger, and passion. As if everything was a confusing disappointment.
“It’s pretty interesting stuff in here.” I said once my heart calmed down from it’s surprise.
She walked over to the empty side of the bed and sat down on the edge and began taking off her shoes ‘Since when do you read GQ, who you trying to impress?” she asked. Though she had her back to me I could see her teasing frown she had on her face.
“you.” I replied automatically
“it’s not working…” she continued to tease me.
I returned my eyes back to my GQ magazine. I continued to watch her as she got up and slipped out of her jeans. She turned around and saw the lust in my eyes.
“I knew you would be looking.” She frowned a smile.
“Well…” I smiled embarrassment.
Slipping under the covers she snuggled next to me placing her head on my chest using my body as her pillow. She used her right hand and played with my bear sideburns.
I let me eyes drop from the magazine and I looked down at her. “Tired?” I asked her.
“…Not really.”
“Hmm” I said as I turned another page and was greeted with the picture of another beautiful woman dressed in the most beautiful way one can with only two pieces of clothing on.
“So…” she began as she made circles on my face with her fingers. “What has GQ taught you so far?”
I close the magazine on the picture of the beautiful woman dressed in the most beautiful way with only two pieces of clothing on and tossed it on the floor. I let me eyes drop on the beautiful woman dressed in the most beautiful way with only two pieces of clothes on resting on my chest. I made love to her.

Brown Eyed Devil (2)

The first time I met Raphael…the first time Raphael allowed himself to be seen by me was at a local library. I had just arrived to the city a week ago and had yet to set up internet for my apartment. I walked into the small library well after 5 pm to find every computer taken. I scanned the screens to see children chattin with strangers and playing internet games. I have time to waste since my girlfriend was still at work. I didn’t like the idea of staying in a half furnished apartment by myself. The library was the perfect place for me to learn more about the sleepy little town I had stumped upon. Seeing all the monitors covered by heads typing away at keyboards I moved to the back of the building. Row after row people sat at tables consumed by books. I was starting to curse myself for waiting so late. When I reached the back I had given up hope of a spot to rest. Sitting with his back to the wall sat a young boy. I wasn’t sure of his age...I couldn’t see his face. It was covered by an issue of gentlemen’s quarterly a simple white t shirt and black jeans. He sat by himself in that corner. A chair sat alone across from him. I looked around . Everyone else was trapped in there books and were lost in there own minds. With hesitation I walked towards the table. I watched him cross his feet under the table as the sound of my body reached his ears. He looked into me from over the magazine. His face showed no surprise. His face showed no emotion. His eyes invaded the privacy of my mind. I stood before him exposed. I self consciously crossed my arms and stopped walking. I embarrassingly looked over the walls of the library trying to avoid eye contact with his large brown eyes. I felt his eyes on me still. I cursed myself for my over active imagination. I was allowing a kid to physic me out. With my false sense of confidence I walked again to the table. I half expected a brother or mother to come from beyond the rows of books and question me.
“Is someone sitting here?” I asked. His eyes never left me. His brown eyes trapped me and I was all he ever saw. “No.” he said with a matter of fact tone.
“Well…” I said. His voice revealed his age I guessed him to be eight. “I am going to sit here with you. Save this seat for me, okay please?”
He didn’t respond he release me with his eyes and turned his focus on the magazine. Satisfied with that answer I turned and vanished among the row of the books in the front of the library. I returned to his table to find him unmoved. I placed a copy of ‘Arabian Nights’ on the table and took a seat. I attempted to ease my mind and indulge my imagination. No matter how hard I tried the pictures would not come to me. I couldn’t see Sinbad. Frustrated I placed my book on the table and looked over my company. He still sat unmoved book covering his face. I didn’t know what to make of someone so young reading an issue of GQ. Either he’s a fashion expert or he was filling his mind with half naked woman. For some reason I felt that talking to a eight year old boy would be more interesting than ancient Arab tales.
“Want to be fashion designer when you grow-up?” I asked him with the best grin I could muster.
He put the book down and as soon as his brown eyes sucked me in again it was as if his eyes never moved. They may have been peering into me through the magazine.
“People never change I never get tired of it.” He spoke at me. His words flat and direct. He commands his words with a tone of familiarity. He’s said it like he remembered it.
“What do you mean?” I asked him. I could feel myself trying to muster the same directness. He looked as if he never even heard me. As if my words fell short of his ears. He let the magazine fall from his hands and reached his left hand out. “Raphael.” He said. His eyes soften allowing me to glaze over his hand and shake it with my left. “I grinned at his rudeness of ignoring me and commented with my own name “Andre…you know most people shake with there right.” Again Raphael went deaf as my words were unable to reach his ears.
“Excuse me sir.”
Raphael’s eyes release me from there hold on me. I look up to see a Liberian standing next to me. She had a disappointed look on her face. “I’m sorry sir we don’t allow cell phone use in the library.” She spoke to me as she patted her left ear. She offered a smile in sympathy of her having to command me.
“Cell phone? No, I’m just talking to Raphael here.” I extended my hand to Raphael’s seat. ‘Sorry for talking loud.” I offered her my own smile to show my sympathies. I watched her face erase her smile. “When he comes back if you could tell him too please.” Her eyes observing the empty seat in front of me. “huh he’s..” I followed the Liberian eyes to Raphael’s empty seat. My head jolted as my mind exploded. “Ugh.” My body belted it’s confusion. “…he must of run off when he saw you…kids.” I again mustard a grin. Weaker than before. Comforted by the thought that the gentlemen in front of her was not insane she returned her smile and said “it’s okay sir I have two young boys of my own. I know that can be a little loud.”
“uh-ugh” I mumbled. The librarian turned and walked away between the rows of books. I watched her leave and as soon as she turned out my sight my head snapped to Raphael’s seat. My eyes peering into his seat. My mind struggled to rebuild its self from the earlier explosion. I rolled my eyes over the back of the chair trying to read the mystery of Raphael’s disappearance from the chair. A copy of gentlemen’s quarterly lay left on the table and proved to be a problem when my mind tried to convince me my eyes betrayed me. In response my eyes insisted that my mind imagined the little boy. As my eyes and mind twisted themselves in battle trying to understand why I had been engaged in conversation with a empty chair and a GQ magazine another voice snaps me back to the present.
“Anyone sitting here?” a teenage girl points at the table I look around “Oh…uh…I..”
She starts to frown. I turn my head looking down the row of books. I can feel her roll her. Eyes with an audible sigh.
“Uh...you can have my seat.” I quickly get up collecting my book and the GQ magazine. “I’m just checking out.” I say as I move out of her way. She watches me walk down the hall between the row of books.

Brown Eyed Devil (1)

Life never lived up to my expectations. I could of done so much better. It cost me my soul for me to realize that. I have sat in many rooms in my life. But nothing…no room can prepare one for knowing the last room you will ever sleep in. Knowing the last breath you will ever take. I didn’t know the last time I would lay in the sun. I didn’t think to take the time to lay in the sun. I didn’t think. I am writing this because I don’t want others to not live up to life expectations. I am writing this before it’s too late for others like it is too late for me. Hell makes you think of others. Once you are stuck in it. You see the despair you are in and the only thing you can think of is…”No one else!” It is not true that men think of themselves, only. Men are not made to only serve themselves and there own purposes. I want whoever to read this to know that I am thinking of you. I can’t see you…I don’t know you. But I want you to know that I am thinking about you even before I burn. I can see you…your eyes greedily eating every line. I hope that my words feed you and fill your doubts. It is true…dead men tell no lies. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow I die.

My name is Andre Atele. I am 23 years old. I am going to die tomorrow at 12:00 pm at the hands of the state of Kansas. Like most men who are forced to know the exact time, date and method of there death I am forced to look at the way I lived my life. As I look closer to my life, as my death inches closer to see every single mistake I made I see now. I was blind before. I see every single step I took toward my death. Never before was I so close to death and didn’t know it. As I look over my life now I see everything as If I am dead now. I see things as ‘the last time.’ The last city I ever lived in, Olathe Kansas. I came to the city with my last girlfriend I ever had. We had been dating for about 1 year. I got a job in Kansas City and we moved with me from Des Moines. We lived not 30 minutes from the City in a simple 2 bedroom apartment. I was chasing time. Living life how life allowed. I never considered myself a bad person. I lied stole, cursed, and chased my fair share of woman. But I wasn’t a bad person. I was a pawn in a game. A chess piece with limited moves and options. I didn’t realize that I had long decided what side of the board I would play for. The move to Olathe was just me being moved up a square. Nothing changed. I still played for the same team

Picasso

I remember being told that Picasso at his rise to fame at a young age, in Paris would often avoid paying bills by simply drawing on them. They would be priceless, thus the restaurant wouldn’t charge him.

This is a far cry from where I sit, I know. But I can say I am fascinated by that idea. It reminded me of what happened at work one day. I don’t know why but I got into a flirting match with a girl. Not even a match. She would flirt and I would play her off.

But a man…

A man can only stand so much. I had no intent of calling her. Understand I wasn’t going to call her, but I played her little game. Where I would awkwardly let sexual conversation stop when brought up by her, I then allowed her words to be played by mine. We casually climbed the social flirtation ladder. I stopped around the time most ask for a number. She continued playing her words and her hips. I stopped. She played. I stopped. She played harder and didn’t even begin to ask why I stopped.

I would often use my waiter’s pad and write short essays and poems. She would always want to come around and stand next to me trying to see what I was writing. I remember her being eager to rub her chest on my arm, despite having no need to be that close to me anyway. I know she saw I never looked down her shirt or ever move closer in her direction. Actually it was casually away from her. Yet around the 17th time she rubbed her chest my way I let her read as I wrote on my pad. She let her eyes scan across me, she read every word. “You should write me a note.” She smiled at me. I can’t refuse a challenge. “Okay I smiled back at her.” I flipped a few pages in my waiter notebook and asked. “How long.” She pressed up against my arm closer than before. I noticed the numbers on the page as I tried to keep my eyes away from her. “This long.” She smiled and she let her fingers stretch across the page to it’s ends. She smiled. “Okay.” I stood in the back of the restaurant and wrote my imagination. I watched her in my absence she played and flirted with two other employees. She crushed their arms as she did mine. I smiled, shook my head and wrote my imagination.

Several minutes later I interrupted her flirting her flirting with the two other men by passing by her and saying only that I finished the note. I watched her make her way after me into the front of the restaurant where I stood staring into the sky. “So you gonna let me read?” she smirked. I pulled out the pad and tore 3 pages and handed it to her. Her hands almost ripped them apart, not because she snatched them but because she wrinkled with the paper as one does money. “3!” She laughed “nu-uh” she straighten the pages and looked them over. She looked over the three pages and again said with a smile this time “Thee pages.” I have watched many read my writings, and if their is ever a time I read a person is when they are reading me.
She smiled as she read
She laughed as she read
She avoided being interrupted by the other flirting males…as she read.
When she read my number at the bottom she chuckled.
“I like it it’s sweet.” She folded it up and placed it in her waitress notebook and smiled at me. “Your good.” She laughed. I raised my eye brow and with a grin dripping of seduction asked. “okay…so my numbers at the bottom what’s up?” I watched her prance away from me, flashing her embarrassment to the sky. She shook her hip and walked away. “okay…” she wouldn’t show me her embarrassed face. “I’ll call you.” I let her dance out of my eyes. I spent the rest of the day playfully pushing away flirts.

That night I got a phone call. I informed her that I would call her later, because I was sleep when she called. I was asleep. I went back to sleep.

I have yet to call her.

Leshea

[Inspired by Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean]
(Sings to beat)

She was more like a beautiful voice from my sweetest dream. I said not me but what do you mean I am the one who would dare come around and break around?
She said I am the one who would dare come around and break around.
She told me her name was Leshea and she loved my scheme, with heavy head turn and eyes to dream of being the one who would dare come around and break around.
Privately I told her be careful what you do, don’t play around going close to my flame.
And her mother always told her, be careful who you love and be careful what you do, because he’s lies become your truth.

Leshea is not my lover she’s just a girl who claims I am the one. But the kid is not my son. She says I am the one. But the kid is not my son.

For what it’s worth for those four days you were all my sigh. But who can stand when there in demand of her schemes and plans to be the one who would dare come around and break around. So take my strong advice. Just remember to always think twice. (Don’t think twice)
She told me maybe we were destined to be. And she looked at me. They showed her words but my surprise, the lies were not mine, who would dare come around break around. People always told me. Be careful what you do. Don’t go around breaking young girls hearts. But you come and stood beside me. Just to feel the sweet passion too soon. Can’t really have it so soon, your just going back to your room.

Leshea is not my lover. She’s just a girl who claims that I am the one. But the kid is not my son.
Leshea is not my lover. She’s just a girl who claims that I am the one. But the kid is not my son.

She says I am the one. But the kid is not my son.
She says I am the one. But the kid is not my son.

Leshea is not my lover. She’s just a girl who claims that I am the one. But the kid is not my son.

She says I am the one. But the kid is not my son.
She says I am the one. She says he is my son.

Leshea is NOT my lover.
You know what you did baby.
Leshea is NOT my lover.
Go back home and tell your momma
Leshea is NOT my lover.
How could you do it?
Leshea is NOT my lover.

Me Myself and my Pride (7-13)

“I had a nice long chat with my greatest enemy today.” I say aloud to myself. From behind me in a back room my pride walks around and sits right next to me on the couch. “Oh? What he say?” she asks laying her legs across my lap.
“He asked me if I was functionally illiterate.” I respond scrunching her toes with my fingers.
“What?” she asks
“I told him I misread something and he accused me of being functionally illiterate.” I said wiggling her toes with my finger. “Don’t you remember?” I ask her.
“You really don’t allow me around your father anymore.” She said leaning up and brushing my head with her hand.
“Well now you see why.” I replied taking in the pleasure of her hand. “I look at the floor most of the time.”
Taking her hand away from my head she grabbed my chin. “You let him talk to you like a child.” She said her eyes searching for her self in mine.
“Until I reach my dream it’s all I can do.” I told her looking deep into her eyes. With a deep sigh she looked away from me and leaned back into the couch. We sat in silence me and my pride. I continued to rub her feet until she spoke again. “Things are going to change pretty soon, you ready?”
I again squeezed her toes with my hand. ‘What do you mean good or bad way?”
She smiles at me and says “What did your role model say? Any place is better than here.”
“True.” I nodded; looking down at her feet I lightly rubbed the bottom of her foot with my fingers.
Raising her foot up to my face she wiggles her toes and smiles “Kiss it.”
Keeping my face toward her toes I look at her with my eyes. “you know I wont.”
“Ugh.” She lets out. “you’ll kiss that girls but you wont kiss mine.” She complained with a frown and smile to match.
My face hid no emotion from her. She dropped her smile and whispered. “You think about him still?” Taking her legs out of my lap she scoots next to me on the couch. “Listen…” she begins. “In one ear out the other.” She takes my hand and holds it between her two. “He said you were worthless and a piece of shit. You haven’t forgotten, I know. You work so hard for what you see in your eye. Do you believe it worthless? If you don’t why do you believe him?”
I kept my head down looking at my lap and shook my head. She squeezed my hand “Do you believe your dream worthless?”
“no.” I finally said aloud.
“Good.” She smiled again taking her hand and rubbing the back of my head. “your dream will come true, and then you can stand to look him in the eye.”

Me Myself and my pride (6-26)

I am sitting by myself at a park. She comes to me. From the smoke I let dance out of my mouth. The smoke sneaks across the table and danced with the wind until it snaked out her body across from me. She takes a seat from me across the table.
“your still writing.” She smiles at me. Her brown eyes watching my pen spread words across paper. I slightly nod my head to show I heard her and keep writing. She leans her body over the table bringing her face close to mine.
“What is that your smoking?” She asks her nose curing up trying to smell the smoke that sneaks through the air. I don’t answer her I just gently let the smoke breeze toward her face. “Oh, well at least it’s better than that other stuff.” I gently let my smartest smile sneak across my face. Satisfied my pride turns and faces the play ground. She watches the children swing across monkey bars. I break the silence. “I feel like I’ve been writing for years.”
“That’s good.” She replies never letting her eyes leave the children. “I saw what happened today and your still writing.” She titled her head back.
“I’m very proud of you.”
I stop writing and watch the children with her. “I don’t know if I am a fool or if she is the fool.” I say shaking my head.
My pride laughs and turns her head slightly showing me her playful grin.
“You know what I think.” She said.
I catch her eye and respond “and you know what I think.” I look off and watch the children.
“So..what does that mean?” I speak up again. “That we both are?”
“her more than you.” She responds turning her head back to watch the children. I roll my eyes and enjoy the cigar I had long been neglecting. Mt pride turns and again faces me. “you don’t have enough confidence in your dream. I know you see it in your eye you lack faith.” She says matter –of- fact, as she pats me on the head. I watch her pat me. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m not just tricking myself. If I’m just not self delusional.”
Her face turns into a sharp frown and she takes her hand back from my head.
“What makes you think that?”
I again enjoy my cigar but this time its long and slow. I let the smoke pour out with my words. “That’s what my father leads me to believe.” My pride sighs but doesn’t lose her frown. “Him? Well do you believe it? Haven’t we already had long conversation about him?” she says. I only nod my head.
“Don’t let him stop you. Reach for that dream in your eye. You’ve made it this far, how can you stop now? All that you have done will be for nothing. Your dream is close. I can smell it like the cigar smoke in the air.” I look up at my pride and we stare into each others eyes for a while until I ask. “What am I going to do about her?”
Again my pride smiles and pats me on the head. “Don’t worry about her. You just write.” Turning to face the children my pride speaks again. “Even she tells you that.” I enjoy the cigar and pick my pen back up. Almost as if my pride saw this she speaks. “you’ve had enough heartbreak for one notebook, just write” I blow out the smoke and listen to her talk. “Everything you need to know is in your eye.”

Me Myself and My pride (6-4)

“Just leave me alone I want to cry.” I say to her as I cross the street into the part. I shove my hands inside my pockets and make my way to the side walk. She never misses a step she stays right next to me.
“Crying is the last thing you need to be doing right now.”
I let my head drop and my eyes walk over the ground. “What do you want?”
I ask as I disappear into the woods I want so badly to escape into the woods and never be heard from again.
“Talk to me.” She says watching me. She shows no effort in keeping pace with me.
“Why, so you can rub it in my face that you were right?” I ask shooting a glance at her.
“You know I wouldn’t do that.” She says softly cupping my ear. I slow my pace and look at her. Her eyes tell me all the comfort I need. She speaks again “You have lost so much, but you still have your pen. You will always have me by your side.”
I softly shake my head in defeat. “I should of listened to you.” I start to walk again, this time but at a slower pace. She starts to walk with me and smiles. “you were in love it’s okay.”
“I gave her my heart and soul, what happened? What did I do wrong? What did I not say to her?”
She shakes her head and reaches out to rub mine. “nothing…you see what she did with them.”
I sigh and fight back tears. “I thought you said you wouldn’t rub it in.”
She quickly frowns. “I’m not, I’m telling you what she did, so you don’t as well give her your pen tomorrow. Now your pen is free. Write all the time, all you want. Never again let her stop you. If you give her your pen to show your love it will end up broken like your heart, and buried like your soul.” I look up into the sky and search for the tears I feel coming. She takes hold of my hand and speaks. “You were in love and you paid the price. But you live to write about it. I’ll be right here.”
She says as she squeezes my hand.

Me, myself, and my pride (5-28)

When I sit in my traveling through my thoughts driving down the road, I am never alone. She sits right beside me. When I stand in a room full of people with no one to talk to she is the only one that understands me. And when mad, scared, or confused out of my mind she finds me and places myself back secure with myself. She is my pride and she has stood next to me when others wouldn’t even look in my direction…


Now here I am sitting at a small desk and here she sits on top of the desk legs crossed smiling down at me. She is a beautiful woman forever in her early 40’s forever looking after me the way a mother does her favorite son.

“I see your still writing letters to that silly girl.” She says frowning at my small green book.
I don’t even look up I let my eyes imagine the words that will be written soon.
“Of course.” I shrug “I love her.”
“I read” she says patting my head thoughtfully. “From the way she treats you doesn’t seem she has.”
I tightly close my eyes and let out a sigh. The words disappearing from the page. “I cant help that, I love her regardless. My words are my only way of telling her that.”
“I read your blue notebook.” She says as if confronting me with a secret.
I place my pen in the notebook and lean back and embrace her face with my eyes. She is still smiling, yet her eyes feel sorry for me.
“She still hurts you.”
I slowly and deliberately get out of my chair and walk to the window. “Love hurts.” I say staring into the blue sky.
“Listen to you…” she says her ‘sorry’ now seeping through her voice. “Show me in that green book you like to write in so much where you have hurt her.” She lifts her self off the desk. “Show me where your love for her hurts.”
I look up into the sky searching for a way to make the tears I feel coming go away. “There is nothing I can do, I love her. I will spend my whole life writing words telling her I love her. She may never love me as I love her, but I love her. My pen was born telling her I love her, and so it will die telling her I love her.”
My eyes still stuck in the sky I could feel my pride stepping closer to me. “That’s crazy she will break your heart again and take your words for granted and leave you outside with nothing put a pen and broken love. She will cause you much pain and will find no joy in your romantic ideas of love.” Her soft voice getting firmer and I could hear, she was right behind me.
“She may never love me as I, but I have joy of her love from every memory of her voice. From everyday we spent getting side tracked. From ever late hour we spent on the phone. I have joy from being in love with a woman of my dreams I have joy in knowing that the woman that makes me complete is alive. I have joy in knowing I told her I love her, even if she never loves me.” I said fighting the tears of my words/
“What am I going to do with you?” she gently asks rubbing my check with her finger tips.
“Help me tell her I love her.”
She lets out a sigh of defeat.

My pride steps into me and I let my words stream down my face. I cry as I stare into the blue sky.