Chapter 1

Have you ever considered the improbability of being alive? Of all the near-death experiences I’ve had, my ancestors made it through just as many, probably more. The earth had to be exactly 93 million miles away from the sun in order to make life on this planet hospitable. Every living organism that existed in the 6 billion years between Earth forming and the evolution of man had to make it through unimaginable difficulty, all in order for your parents to meet.

And like I said, my parents almost never did. When it happened, it was of course a chance encounter.

My Mom and Aunt Phoebe had plans to visit their friend Nancy in Virginia Beach. Nancy ended up meeting a guy at the last minute. An encounter I can only imagine was just as random as my parents’. Because of this, she no longer wanted my mom and aunt to visit, so she basically stood them up.

Not wanting to waste their vacation time, my mom randomly suggested visiting Charleston WV instead. While there enjoying the summer day in front of their hotel, they noticed a group of guys hanging out by a fountain. My mom was way too shy but my Aunt Phoebe was the opposite. She walked right over and started talking to one of them, named Curtis.


My father was one of 14 brothers and sisters, born and raised in War, West Virginia – the state’s southern most town. He and his siblings would grow to resent their country upbringing and began moving to New York City when they became of age. They had family there who they’d spent their summers with as children. My father went to college however in Charleston, West Virginia. The summer he graduated he found himself outside at the city fountain, discussing his plans to finally move to New York permanently.


It was then when a heavy-set, light-skinned, African-American woman named Phoebe approached him, asking, “What’s there to do around here this weekend?” My dad, noticing her pretty brown skinned 5’1 sister standing quietly in the background, invited them both out that evening. He said he’d be happy to show them around, they just needed to pick him up. They accepted his invitation and for the rest of that weekend, the three of them hung out. My mom and dad exchanged phone numbers but she never thought she’d see him again. They ended up keeping in touch and before long they were taking trips to see one another.

After a couple years of dating my parents got married. By then my father was living in New York full time, working real estate in Harlem, and trying to get his record label off the ground. My mother worked for a doctor’s office back in Steubenville, Ohio. My dad eventually enticed her to move to the big city.

Through the lens of history it seems apparent now, but for them at the time, the magnitude of danger in Harlem circa 1983 wasn’t as obvious right away. And like the boiling frog, my father would slowly succumb. He was also in mourning, his father was dying. Most of the time then, he was nowhere to be found. Where he was and what he was doing, we won’t find out until I’m much older. It’s something that would change my family forever.

Fortunately for my mom, her mom who I called ‘Gram’, would soon be forced to visit New York to help. Gram was an unapologetically courageous black women, though light enough to pass for white.

It was right around this time my mother became pregnant with her first child, me.

Anything’s Possible

The craziest artist
maybe retarded
Aj and Arthur
they’ll make me a martyr
save me from this daily revolver
I’m praying to the savior, the father
He’s saying we’ve lost her
these thoughts are the cost
there’s frost on my collar
there’s sin in the wind
I swim in the harbor
I swear
there’s a scare in the air
now where are the dollars?
right there!?
Prepare to be slaughtered
I can fight or I can write
its the right of an author
I’m typing this harder
I might be a monster
the life of Jeffry Dahmer
a knight in shinning armor
if the night was like my armor
why I even bother
it’s lottery and drama
a lot of these
thots that are hot I see
are probably
someone’s momma
its honestly a problem
don’t talk to me about philosophy
unless you’ve got a lot of weed
I’m God’s envy but Gods in me…

possibly.

Facts & Coping Mechanisms

Okay so, I know it isn’t.
But I’m smoking like it’s my religion,
it’s my coping mechanism.
Drug addiction
due to love omission.
What’s the difference
between a dream and what they mean?
Things remain unseen,
like screams.
The scenes I’ve seen are obscene,
it seems.
Reemerging themes
keep busting out the seams.
Lusting for some things
I’m not supposed to have.
When I told her she got mad.
Is she over it or sad?
No one knows,
I told um tho – I’m bad.
Blame it on my dad.
This game don’t change,
it ain’t a fad.
The rain came.
I was maimed and stabbed.
But I maintained,
my name intact.
Lames complain
but I adapt.
Why is that?
Because everything I write is FACTS!

Humility

Humility.
Are you kidding me?
That’s the fuel they’ll use
to get rid of me.
I’ve got 2 friends,
then again
a few enemies.
Arthur J; the truth, isn’t he?
All they do is shoot, missing me-
but when I’m gone
it’s you missing me.
Too bad you never knew this to be.
New history
proved literally.
This summer I wonder-
who is with me?
Friends tend to blend in to new cities,
they move quickly.
Forgot that we talked,
like who is he?
The truth’s shitty.
If the noose fits me
they’re through with me,
but I’ll win the war
like Ulysses.

The Life of a Poet

People started changin’
I don’t need um
I don’t claim um
Why?
They won’t be at my arraignment.
I
just need to receive my payment.
To me it’s pretty basic.
Your claims seem really baseless.
My aim? Make the reader turn the pages.
When they do they’ll burn their faces.
You would think a furnace made it,
but I wrote it.
The life of a poet.
Why cry?
Don’t I know it.
Survival of the coldest.
Don’t get close it’s corrosive.
Though if
you could hold it,
you would notice
it’s explosive.
Don’t wish, go get; osmosis.
And no,
you can not quote this.
Please refer to the documents noted.
Your arguments bogus.
I keep my art in my heart.
It’s dark but in focus.

Lunch

I think they wanna kill me
but fuck it
whats destined always will be
Everytime I try n find a mind they’re blind
I still see
father forgive me
I’m not really pretty
I’m guilty
without a lawyer to appeal me
Tom Sawyer probably feels me
I write like him
I frighten my friends with my pen
it’s either that or I might fight them
I try to do what’s right
but lifes like wind
changes directions
the only thing that doesn’t change
my name and complexion
Its game that I’ve stepped in
my brain is the weapon
today is the present
I’m christmas with this nonfictiouus story
don’t ignore me because surely it gets vicious
is this a visit
from the second coming that’s predicted?
Well if it is
I hope you’ve hid the kids
I can’t let them niggaz live
kill em all
I’m on a hunt
Build a wall
like Donald Trump
I will not fall
even though
the road has bumps
I know u want to go to lunch
but I gotta work before I eat
ita gonna hurt before it’s sweet
and even when you win
you first will meet defeat
they don’t understand
because there so much thirstier than me
I turned down the lemonade
because I prefer sweet tea
lol

Work Wrote

Different companies wantin me
Keeping riches over bitches
But this is suspicious
No ones in love w me
So how comfortably can I live
When there isn’t anyone but me
How much more can I give
When there’s none for me
It’s a bit of a conundrum see
What I want to be
Vs. what I’m forced to be
Unfortunately is morbid to me
One can’t survive
If I even am alive
In the first place
What’s 1st place in a race,

without an audience

It’s just that fucked up state of mind that it seems like I’m always in

Blame the fucked up schools that they taught me in
Or the fucked up rules that I always bend

I Don’t Think

It must be nice

to end up with the person you like

I haven’t been so lucky

if I’m really lucky they’ll fuck me

but never ever love me

they’ll judge me, cut me, crush me

even be my buddy

but never will they love me

hug me, kiss me, forget me

I wonder if they miss me

Forgiveness

Forgive them

for they live in a system that has them imprisoned

within their existence their mission is fiction

wisdom’s forbidden

this isn’t a vision

it’s a fact

backed by a vivid description

if you didn’t listen

you’ve missed the prediction

which is a wish for definitive wisdom

Totally Over Me Poetry

ok so…

I know that she’s totally over me but the poetry’s the only thing that keeps my soul at ease. And although she holds the key to let me go free she holds me as her trophy. I’m ghostly reminded of my time with this dime chick and it doesn’t take a scientist to see that I’m pissed. How’d my mind miss the signs for this? I guess I was blinded when I was trying to hit. And if it’s a crime, convict. But I think that I’m legit.

Temptations

I just got my hair cut

and I swear sluts stare but-

I don’t care cuz

there’s no such thing as there love

if there was

it be something I was scared of

to rare to be prepared for

like terrorists in airports

but there’s more

to it than useless bullshit

for instance

my music induces the senses

this pensive friendship with my pen is

the only invented that hasn’t ended

maybe I’m too comprehensive

soldiers sing my songs in trenches

thats just one of the consequences

when what your writing happens to be non-pretentious

and to be honest all this constant senseless conflict tenses  my senses immensely

leaving me feeling empty

and suicide is tempting