Love, Peace & Afro Grease™

The traveling spark knows not who it ignites. It knows not of its potential, only that it wants to brighten souls. It knows of the smiles laying dormant in eyes. It knows not of its potential to set ablaze the path toward freedom. The traveling spark knows that to dance is to speak. She knows not of her potential to frighten unworthy onlookers. She knows that without the freedom to breathe she will not peak. She knows that to flicker in flight is to be alive. The traveling spark feels it’s best to travel alone. He feels that other sparks will complicate the flame. He feels not the need to fuel off of other embers. He feels that home is just a flight away. The traveling sparks know but feel not a glint of fear. They know that air is limited beyond the sky. They feel it’s best to separate when burning. Fire grows for the future and traveling sparks are meant to fly.

December 9, 2015

Sitting in In n Out, looking at the Lucky Greek Two double doubles, no onions, and something to drink Sipping on something that’s pink, folks here are different in speech Surrounded by mountains in a city with circular streets The fire fighters hold an inaudible conversation I try to dial in but experience some complications And adjacent to my facing is a family, Four in standard placement, Foreign land but hey it’s cool I’m going to make it To my destination, while the moon is high I could have stayed at the station but I chose to jet Biggity bounce it to the spot to get some food tonight Strolling through this county with a bounty like I’m a Boba Fett West Corona, never known I’d wind up in the Inland Em Pire with the sight of many hills so I’m feeling blessed Safe and sound just in time to see the sun go round And darken the scene as I walk in as the seventeenth - guest Yes, looking at the lucky Greek Glad it was my lucky number, Stumbling over my feet Mr. Fumbles and that name is an honor of E Drugging luggage down the street, all the while pulling a leaf HOLDING ON FOR DEAR LIFE (Mick Jenkins voice) but I set him free. And kept lunging toward the port in which I’d better be If I wanted to GET IT RIGHT, GET IT TIGHT (Bubba Sparxxx voice) And See A Sight, that’s flight instead of sailing the seven Cs Being conundrums and catastrophes Callous curses through verses perturbed and immersed in a cantankerous unshakable situation stationed in Corona stuck chillin in November’s breeze But now there’s more than one occupying the track I make my peace and climb aboard no looking back It’s 8:08, with no further delay and after the 5th page from the conductor man we’re moving again Yay! A little back story so the time between my boarding and the present was annoying cause we had to stop before we could proceed to LA there was a stupid car parked on the fuggin’ tracks and couldn’t go until they towed it But it’s 8:40 and she’s waiting for me So I traverse steadily with a set of these Tree trunks for legs En route to see my Haley ready to dip and head To the movies, chillin with yours truly November 24, 2015

So now that the bridge has been crossed let’s take a moment to look at my journey down the avenue of abstinence. I was first introduced to what I now know so well, when I was 12, but seven years before is where I’ll start. On my way to kindergarten heart  filled with joy, innocence brimming from my smile and with every step, I would skip the cracks to never snap my mother’s spine, because for I loved her dearly, plus my brother’s walking with me. Down Decatur Blvd to make a right on Vegas drive, escaping dry heat in the middle of the weekday mornings, We’d walk on by the gas station and as I was spacing my steps, I noticed someone had left some cards or something. Reaching down to pick them up off of the ground, I found an image of a blonde lady so scantily clad And other cards had similar depictions but different descriptions on how to call or contact, this woman.

… To Be Continued

I feel like I was born as the worst type of human being Joy is a foreign language that everyone’s speaking While my indifference allows me to avoid The sadness, there is a void that inhibits me from seeing When will I be?

October 1, 2015

She asked me how I was and I was doing well Looked me into my eyes and told me to keep my smile I thought about her presence on the station bench Watching the light flicker, thinking what to make of it She offered me a bottle with a Kirkland sig I graciously accepted for the thirst was real Although I had a liter of my own, these eight fluid ounces could transform from water into gold She asked me for my name when Peace left the train Then said that she was Unity  after my name Wished me the best of luck and then departed Reflecting on the messages spoken to me today Sunday October 24, 2015

She sleeps. I’d rather her rest than weep. I write. She thinks that I speak to spite. I don’t. Desiring more than most. Her love. Inspires in me a note. My volume’s awfully loud. She says. I push my ideals on her. Instead. Bothersome by my critiques. I thought. Was wrong, now gathering what. She taught. September 13, 2015

Even with the fan blowing upon my face the pace at which the tears had raced were quick enough to make it out. Breaking out my soul and showing how the music moves me, proving my previous ode to y'all is truly sincere. September 10, 2015 Listening to Turbulence by IAMNOBODI

On my bus rides, work, then on my back side I think about the what ifs, the maybes, even bad times Advised to look forward with brightness on the horizon, but vertically it’s hurting see it’s crazy thought you were the answer Fear hiding behind romance and tears that I’m scared to shed but Years of love’s what I want instead Till I’m done and dead Till I’m done and dead, puns inside jokes and insecurities fed to the monsters that prolly still exist Giving you all that I can bare and some in excess Hoping to fall in love with only one Till I’m done and dead Till I’m done and dead

  August 25, 2015

Several times, several rides to this train station Severing time, severing lines while I’m waitin Smell is not amazing, half if that It ain’t a fish but if it was I would cast it back It’s no surprise that when you take pubuhlic transit The experience demands patience and somewhat of an open mind I tend to find mine while I define all the happenings In an effort to capturing present tenses in rhyme form Not to mention I’m quite bored Cause if i wasn’t I wouldn’t  have the ambition to swype more That was a lie I would write for ever even in bad scenes in spite of a cracked screen nothing would prevent me I mean, if I was Tom and was casted away Upon an island I would smile still and camp in a bay Upon rising I would find a walking stick And use it to compliment the Almighty’s creation instead of distracting planes Passer bys would enjoy a poem about the days When I use to catch frogs and golf balls behind the lake Or how I lost my gray tooth, ( yes I had a gray tooth) Until a baseball hit it and fixed the sichooay Crum diddly um now I’m on the hound grey And I found an outlet so I can let out These random thoughts my brain’ll fart and then crop dust you citizens till eventually obliterating all the folks in Pompeii (Hot Shit)

Gosh the thought of you. It’s so strong, I be wondering how long till I can build up this strength. In my arms, see it’s inexplicably BOMB never bombastic. I’m turning these thoughts into actions when I see you. No need for contacts and I see you. Clear as light and bright as day but tonight is when the fun happens. Cultivating feelings stirring em in this pot of time, I’m done waiting. Babe, I’ll see you when the sun tanks it, behind the ocean.

Damn. Why oh why, grand universe, do you see the need to punish thine heart? For the opulence of he who rhymes is derived from that iridescent damsel boarding the aircraft. Go my love. Return to that bustling city to which you currently reside. For I, Prince of the Mojave, shall meditate and compose my exhibitions till you arrive.

Octorber 4, 2015

Go find some humans and feed, my energy sucking vampire! Do as you will! Fly my darling damsel! Dazzle yourself in the limited glow of the sun’s rays and throw yourself upon the wandering fools who dare to cross your path. For the positive energy bath you will leave them lying in is only a result of their own folly. Then frolic away in hopes of consuming the next victim with even more joyous alacrity. For I, your mole of a hermit will remain in the solace of my solitude, confined within my carefree comfort; only to then be enthralled and enamored by the exciting elucidations you shall expound with much elation. So what have you decided on? If you’re going on a trip can I ride along? With the sways of your hips in a silent phone. Miles alone but nearby to the sound unknown. The golden tone of your voice singing my heart numb. A song called ‘Beauty’ if ever Art sung.

October 1, 2015