Saturday, May 29, 2010


I could sit here and tell u a million times with a million rhymes
Nobody can ever match how you shake up what's mine.
Love drought, love drought the kids need water.
I'm hungover from my last dose and I want some more for an unborn daughter
That smile with the braces still throws my mind in a trance
The last trip to the zoo, I loved your pants.
How beautiful can Love. be?
How hard is for her not to love me.
I don't equate to half of her amazement
But I gotta be cool and patient and remember where our first date went.
From the parking lot kiss on the cheek
to the muesuem and Krispy Kreme trip the following week.
My time was all yours except that one occasion.
I went to orlando and got in some trouble
I disregarded it to come to u on the double.
Back tracked my success a bit I didn't stress the shit.
I know imma be okay, look who you're dealing with.
I love my Love. Andrea. her name is a song.
I love knowing that after her ringtone goes off her voice will come on
Then i'm in heaven for a few moments until I catch my Z's.
wake up the next morning and I'm in peace until I see her again.
When? It all depends.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Throw It Up, Catch a Ghost

Ever since I was little, when my auntie and grandma use to drag me to church, I have been fascinated with a certain action known as “catching the Holy Ghost”. I don’t know maybe it’s where this religious experience takes place, when it happens, what it looks like, or the amusing sounds that people create when it happens. Let me take you back to…oh let’s say 1995 when I was six years old sitting in my Aunt Nets hot-as-hell church with a fresh Nike short set and LA Gears on my feet somewhere in Portsmouth, VA. This may come off as a stereotype, but I am going to assume that a majority of churches in the South are hot as hell and loud. I mean that in the most spiritual way possible. I just realized I said “hell” in reference to church. Oh the irony!!! But it’s the truth. I have never seen more grease running down Black faces since the last time I saw Jermaine Jackson on my TV screen. I have also never seen more Martin Luther King Jr. fans with the skinny wooden handles in my short life! I remember vividly how the choir began to jam as if they were at a rock concert and the pastor was the Mozart…of the people in the pews of course. I took a little look around and noticed how everyone, even my older cousins were up and dancing. I noticed the jumping around and yelling praises to the ceiling, which I later found out was suppose to be God. Their feet were moving as if they were being burned by hot coals or something, but I knew their feet couldn’t have been in that much agony; even the old geezers were moving with outstanding rhythm. I looked around this holy dance floor to find my Aunt Net and Uncle Bobby, and when I found them they were doing the same damn thing as everyone else. I tapped on my auntie’s leg, but as expected that couldn’t get her out of this trance she was in. My uncle was just as bad; he almost fucking kicked me with his happy hallelujah feet! So after realizing that the only stable people left in the church were a few old people doing their old fashioned knee pat and rock side-to-side motion, the other kids who had lost their parents in this ruckus, and the pastor who was grinning incredibly hard. He was probably proud of all of the money people were dropping on the floor. His ushers probably would have picked up all the loose change if they weren’t out in the pews tap dancing for Jesus too. The way the women and men “caught the ghost’ was very similar but VERY different at the same time. The women made many more frightening sounds as opposed to the men. They made sounds that sounded as if they were having an orgasm, an orgasm that was followed by the common phrases of “praise Him!” and my favorite thing to hear accompanied by a Southern accent “Thank you Lawd Jesus!” (Which is actually pronounced ‘jay-zus’) If I had more knowledge of sex at the age of six, I probably would have thought “This Jesus must be the man in the bedroom! He’s got all these women going nuts…in front of their husbands!” Back to my aunt, who was having an experience like nothing I have ever seen. To this day I rank my aunts catching of the Ghost as one of the funniest and most frightening thing I have ever witnessed in a religious setting. She was in the middle of four other women who had somehow miraculously made a circle of arms around her to keep my auntie from falling over. I was actually worried being six years old, but go fucking figure I was a little kid. When I think of it now however, I am amused at this memory. Once the choir had come to the end of their song, everyone returned to their seats…well almost all of the people did at least. One random old lady who always sat at the front of the church had caught the Ghost so greatly, that she passed out on stage right next to the pastor. All the pastor did was look down at her, say “well this sister here is BLESSED! Gooood Lawd have mercy!” and continued with the service. I’m sitting in my seat eating some candy from my aunt’s purse worried and scared shitless because the poor old lady looked as if she was having a seizure. I think I was the only one who actually cared if that old woman was okay or not. Toward the end of the service I came to find out that this old lady was just fine. She jumped up, yelled “hallelujah!” paid her tithe, and sat back in her VIP front row seat. My mom always said she didn’t like going to church because of all the madness that takes place inside. She actually referred to the madness as racket. I don’t blame her one bit, even though I think she doesn’t go simply because she doesn’t wake up until 5pm anyway. I may seem a bit ignorant for this next statement but oh well, but I have reason to believe that a lot of people fake when they catch the Ghost. Now I haven’t been to church in…well let’s just say I haven’t been since the last time the Knicks made the playoffs. But I have reason to believe that many people FAKE the catching of the Ghost. I have seen too much bullshit! Please explain how a popular dance is always somehow orchestrated into catching the Ghost. These are a few dances I have seen tied in with catching the Ghost: C-Walk, Harlem Shake, raising the roof, Little Richard splits, tap dancing, and voguing…yes. I have seen people Vogue in the name of Jesus. I’m almost afraid to see what dances their doing now. Are they cranking dat super Jesus now? I know I have no place to even question or comment on people’s actions because I hear it’s between them and God anyway, but c’mon people Voguing??!! I will probably never be in the position to catch the Holy Ghost, and to be quite honest I’m cool with that. I probably will never step foot inside a church again, but as long as YouTube exists I will always have a way to view people actin a fool in the name of religion. Peace to Brother Franklin.

Monday, May 10, 2010

I Guess I Have Ree & Valencia to Thank...

So every time I post it on Twitter or mention the word "surgery" the questions are and always have always been "for what?" my favorite "are you okay?" and the one that I have been avoided answering "on what?!" So to answer those three question, in no specific order...I am being circumcized because it is very annoying and aggravating to have extra foreskin...and yes, I am perfectly and totally fine. It is not like I would die if I did not have this procedure done. Most of my friends give me this crazy ass look, as if they smoked some terrible weed, when I tell them that I am opting to mutilate my weiner for my own reasons. Crazy shit huh? A few weeks ago I was actually pretty shy or too embarassed to tell people about the procedure. I would usually just use some kind of euphemism to tell them what I was getting done. Most of the smart people I told, the others may as well have been looking at the periodic table when I was trying to explain it. I guess that is my own fault...I should have just come out and told them straight. I was on the phone with my Grandma from Virginia yesterday (Mother's Day) when I told her about my surgery date and what I was having done. The first thing she said was "I don't know why your parents didn't get that done to you when you were born, shit." I actually laughed a bit when she said that, because that statement has usually been the first thing people say after I tell em about the surgery. But after speaking with my mom about why she didn't get the procedure done when I shot out into the world, she basically said that she and my dad didn't want me to go through that kind of pain as a baby... I totally understand where they are coming from, but shit! I promise them I would not have been scarred for life from those few moments of pain! It would have been a lot better than walking around for 20 years with a stigma between my legs and on the head of my penis. My mom also said that she & my dad also wanted for me to be able to make the decision if I wanted the surgery when I got older. Well guess what parents?! I want the surgery and I'm getting it on May 21st! It was very awkward this past semester in my Human Sexuality course, especially when we began talking about the male anatomy...and the topic of circumcision came about. Everyone in the class sat there and ridiculed it and made it seem just as digusting as making love to Oprah Winfrey. It was pretty embarassing to know that I was probably the only one in the class who was not circumcized. It felt even worse to be afraid to speak up and be able to defend myself...eventhough I know my classmates reaction to an uncircumcized person was pure ignorance and typical shit. But now for some reason I am totally comfortable about speaking on it. I'm not at all afraid of having my weiner mutilated, I will be asleep durign the procedure anyway. If it is one thing I am afraid of, it is the recovery. I already know its going to be a total beotch! I will def be off my feet for about a week...and out of sex for...well let's not speak on it...since I'm not having any of that of lately anyway. But if I were some sort of sex-fiend or nymph it would most definitely be a total beotch to have to deal with. It is also very dreadful to have to imagine 10 stitches going into or around my penis...I forgot what my doctor said after he said stitches in the head...dear God help me through recovery. I also hope my friends aren't total jackasses while I'm recovering! I can't even think about having a boner or else I will have to face the pain. I think I'll get a tattoo on my weiner after I am done with recovery process. It will read "Survivor" lolz. I'm happy I finally had the time to sit and really speak of this upcoming procedure, feels good to discuss the wood. (lolz that was pretty corny but fuck it!)

Monday, May 3, 2010

Just My Type: Ode to Arizona.

Cheap, but you're worth every penny.
Like the women of the city your flavor varies in many.
Play it like, I'm Forrest and you're my Jenny.
Fine just the way you were packaged, no blends needed like Absolut and Henny.
Got your own spot at 7-Eleven, oh thank heaven.
When thirst creeps up on me I use you as my weapon.
If not on my lips on the go, I go home and pour a tall glass of your tall aluminum ass.
Taste buds are hypnotized.
You're my sweet thang, and all my friends recognized
No offense, but lemon-iced and raspberry are my main ones.
In a lifetime, hell a weeks time I've consumed a ton.
Soon as I get some more dollars I'm coming for you hun.
A couple dollars? Shit all I need is one and your done.

The Circle.

I'm 20 what worries do I need?
Heart full of goodness, no stress, hate, or greed.
The sun is lightly beaming where I'm at and it fed the seed.
The seed grew by my side, smiled and said what I feel was guaranteed.
In the middle of a lovely town downtown.
My head in the clouds, jaw dropped, because what I see is so profound.
My Auntie practically raised me around these parts.
But I never knew how close I hold the city to my heart
It's a million things I can say to start.
The sky is painted, a million guitars playing, the atmosphere is warm
An eatery on every corner, where a window seat or table outside is the norm.
Buildings that would blow your eyes out, buses rampage around here like a thunderstorm
To the park, in a circle where all the working folk swarm
I'll walk any amount of blocks just to sit here and write
I have seen the city smile at night
Taking a break from all the worries of the world to feel alright
My phone's flipped upside down and outta my sight
The cultured melting pot , or salad
As the sun sets the sky tuns purple
I'ma put back on my music circles and remain in my zone at the circle