Meridian's Manifesto

And she seemed wonderfully lonely, cooing herself to sleep as sunlight rushed to warm her feet and the hidden parts of her thighs.

She craned her neck towards the window and considered meeting it in person but decided that she preferred her closet.

With its familiar corners and self made dirt.

At least it belonged to her.

I am part of a lineage,

children of the sun

we stand kissed with radiance.

Mythological gods tall and at attention

animated by whispered incantations.

We are made from a concoction

rich soil, shunned by some and called dirt, but required by all for growing,

redden brick for building,

caramel that’s too sweet for tasting,

ebony to prove that when bodies move it can be can be affecting

and corn meal because we haven’t got much but somehow we’ll make it work.

Grinded by mortar and pestle the syrupy substance was smoothed across my limbs and down my back.

This sweet creation was just a little girl

with press-n-curl

skipping cracks on the sidewalks of Canarsie Brooklyn.

There’s a motherland that I’ve not seen again, after being torn from the point of no return.

An Eden where I walked naked

and witnessed the beautiful things that heaven bears

and I cradled robin eggs after they’d hatched.

I used to read walking home from school.

Not wanting to waste the dance of smells, movement, rustling, tweets and breeze on an unattuned imagination.

My symphonic immersion caused me to bump into cars and have close calls with light poles.

Unwavering in my commitment

biting at the bit

with my thumb poised to turn the page there was warmth.

And I would bury books to my chest beckoning for characters to come back and tell me that they were okay.

That was yesterday

Every Black girl who makes it past 18 deserves a kiss.

Stepping past the threshold of childhood into adolescence, clouded cover creates an overcast.

And the sunlight drains from their eyes

And the illuminant glow from their skin

Like stubborn eczema that is embarrassing and causes discoloration.

Pollution in the ethos

bubbles green with disdain.

Emerging into nicknames like ‘Shadow’, a coy sneer used to describe an ethereal complexion. Or prods like “girl you need a perm” Convince you that there is smoothing wrong with you.

And Snap, bones, ligaments, and sinews like gnawed chicken.

We may no longer be segregated but we are still not wanted

Brown hair, brown eyes? Disregarded.

Raised voices? Only tolerated.

A strong build. Misinterpreted.

And still it gets heavier

At a sleep away camp a 15 year old girl named Onicker exclaims that she “is just angry with God.”

Her Hope is torn up like a check from an account with insufficient funds.

One by one these young heirs to the sun tearfully confess to enabling abusive relationships because they wanted to be

wanted, abandonment, thoughts of suicide, and trying to use bleach to lighten their skin.

These women are left broken.

The fumes of burnt dreams to treat their sores. While Cautious not to fall through

the canyon sized cracks.

Motherless child with bloated bellies we can’t see tomorrow clearly

However this vessel wasn’t made for breaking.

Involuntary muscle of the heart keeps beating.

While a goddess of the rarest form reveals her silhouette

Leathered hands and groves in the face map the journey to glory.

Glycoma and diabetic her legacy is of dignity.

My ancestors were strong

And when I stand side by side my form does not compare.

My grandmother’s rice and peas was always cooked perfectly yet mine stick to the bottom of the pan.

I am a glimmer of her endurance,

Raising six babies and laughing despite her abuse.

She never had a support group.

While I am inspired by her story I could not fill her shoes.

She never said a mean word to anybody, fed her family

And then prayed for their safety.

My ancestors were strong, why am I not as they?

And despite my fragility I am tired this carousel ride

Turning From tragedy to triumph the spinning makes me ill.

And the Achilles heel gets dragged with a limp, and I’d rather walk straight to begin with.

But I’ve learned to take each day as a gift.

My life a living testament.

Each step is a miracle and proves my light comes from within me

The battle of Hate and Love

In battlefields where love and hate constantly war, both sides suffer severe
Casualties… but hate is winning the battles,
Its draft system is more convincing, spreading like wildfire in dry corn fields.
Too few are ready for combat in the armies of love and the wounded refuse to
Fight, cowered in their foxholes, in fetal position, hugging their knees with
Their forearms and clutching their helmets, overwhelmed by fear,
While the soldiers of hate sport their scars of war like medals of Honor. Their
Engine for battle fueled by vengeance, their thirst for happiness quenched by
Your failure, misery and despair; and are only satisfied by the pleasure in destruction, and so
It seems as if love came to battle without the proper weaponry.
It’s got winged
Babies with terrible accuracy shooting arrows while hate came with sharpshooters and warriors Armed to the
Teeth.
Armed with jealousy and an infinite supply of grudges as artillery.
Ignorance as a helmet and selfishness for body armor.
They got prejudice grenades and anger for a tank and the devils the general
Taking no P.o.w"s
I've seen loves soldiers defeated on red stained floors, bleeding faith,
Staining their hopes with pessimism,
Bodies riddled with bullets, mangled by violence.
The putrid stench of depression and the silence of sorrow lingering in the air,
And everything is covered in blackness.
Yet that very same grim darkness gives birth to a light emitting from a force
That is not the sun, but a soldier whose passion for life burns hotter than any fire known to man. Possesses a strength fear itself fears and out for
Encouragement he tells his comrades:
“Do not fear death my friends for we are
Immortal, gather your masses and heal your wounds, love your enemy for he is your brother, have courage and you shall
have victory”.

??

All i remember is the flash of lights twinkling like a Saharan desert night sky, and the flames from the fire dancing to the sound of destruction
faith is absent
i remember the smell of blood in chemistry with metal and gunpowder
i remember fields of red grass littered with bodies, stale eyes void of hope,
gray skies and smoke that chocked the lungs
i remember being submerged in the sound of violence
i remember drowning in the stagnant sound of gunfire
i remember the screaming and death laughing at the devils jokes
I remember looking for a cause and i remember being told my cause
i remember us together and dying alone

(My subconscious)

When threatened....
Sometimes even I fear what poems will appear in these blank pages
Ive seen them form daemons and monsters.
The Type of beasts that cannot be contained by cages.
I fear the words will materialize before me
Spawning a Beelzebub fathered by my imagination,
a creature that schemes to corner me
Forcing me
to submit to the leviathan of my subconscious
something inside of me you don’t want to see
but will transpire if it has to be


sometimes I fear what words will bleed from my veins through my pencil
I fear they will reveal secrets from my heart, whispers in the standstill
Between beats
I’m afraid of what my hearts speaks
I
Fear my soul wanders too far when my brain sleeps
So my body leaks courage on my sheets while my brain counts sheep
IM
Afraid I’ll lose myself in wonderland leaving my body abandoned and vulnerable to be possessed
BY
Textbook dreams and fantasies that leave us vexed
So when reality bites and everything comes tumbling down
You stand there with a frown looking completely perplexed
I won’t let you IN
Im afraid you won’t understand my context
Im afraid you will see the holes in my wall
The weaknesses in my defenses
The gaps in my fences that contain my mess of senselessness
That makes up the complexity of my thoughts and emotions
When my mind sinks to depths darker and deeper than the deepest oceans
Sometimes
I’m afraid I don’t understand so don’t force me to explain
But if today I should die don’t cry or pity me for you are doing so in vain
Because if I could do it, id live my life again
And id smile through the misery and laugh through the pain
Because no matter how sweet the sunshine is in paradise…
There will always
be rain.

Recipe

Recipe For Love
Ingredients

1 drop of Curiosity

½ leaf of Anxiousness

2 cups of Lust

10.75 pound of Trust

12 ounces of Empathy

4 table spoons of pure respect

1 cup of “all purpose, all natural, 100% percent” Truth Extract (White Lies brand is preferable; I personally believe this is the best brand with the less “mix” in it. In other words it’s closer to the 100%)

1 packet of sweetened forgiveness and excuses

Half Soul

Brain
Key Cooking tools

A Dreamers Grill

Fantasy Coals

Care Pot

Uncertainty Spoon

Directions

Conventional Stove/Oven will not do. You Need a Dreamers Grill and fantasy coals; the combination of the two holds the Passion Fire needed to achieve optimum results
Start with a Size 20 Potjie Pot of Care
Add one drop of curiosity and a half leaf of anxiousness
Crush and mix with a spoon of uncertainty

Add 4 tablespoons of respect and stir until its well mixed

Add two cups of lust (aroma may cause tingling of spine, biting of the lips, Hot skin and Uncontrollable fidgeting)

Add the Empathy (stir)

Add 10.75 pounds of trust. ( If the concoction starts to turn green with jealousy add more trust to turn it the bright yellow of trust it should be)
Add packet of sweetened forgiveness and excuses for that twist of flavor, (Add too much and this is all ruined).

(Like magic you will notice you are no longer turning your spoon, it will churn your concoction as if possessed by the ghost of love, Using your sleepless nights in relentless deep thought, Long phone conversations and day dreams, irrational decision making and unexplainable combination of emotions as energy to keep mixing)

Now pay attention!! Here come the complicated ingredients.

Add half your soul and drain the brain of everything you knew before this; drop in your heart and there you have it.
Ladies and gentlemen I give you...
LOVE
Enjoy….

Concrete Jungle

I'm awakened by the loud mechanical choral of engines roaring, tires loudly kissing the highway, horns blasting,
trains screeching violently running over tracks and the loud bustle of people on their morning rush.
Sounds that used to be whispers in the night become loud violent sounds that abuse the ears.
The day has yet to begin and already I can feel that it will stretch further than I'd like it to.

Here in this maze of concrete time is like a turtle on speed,
Stealing minutes off the clock when you’re not watching its hands.
try to catch it in the act and it stays still.

I dreamt I took the biggest bite out this rotten big apple full of maggots and worms.
I like you dreamt of success and being on top, dreams sold to me by a society that lives a nightmare.
Dreams spawned by selfish men and the "I don't give a shit" politicians.
The flashing lights serve as the excellent propaganda for a place where dreams could be made real
but stare too long and you will find yourself blinded, unable to see the system designed to set you up for failure unless you follow specific rules.
The games been rigged for a win-win situation.
It’s the secret everybody knows, the truth that hurts too much so everyone plays stupid
Forced, you involuntary become another cog in the system, trapped in routine, working alongside millions of other pieces that are all irrelevant in order to sustain function of the bullshit machine.
so eventually I turn bitter as the days continue to pass me by and the more I feel insignificant. Reality and fantasy start to look like twins, and as while I walk the streets I have to stop and pinch myself to make sure I'm real.

I run on the belief that love can cure all things but recently the doctor simply has too many patients to see.
There is so much to hate.
David Lerner said it best: “hate is just love with a chip on it's shoulder..a chip as big as the Ritz...”

Peace is abstract to those who have only known war; and humans have only known war.

here in this concrete jungle we soon realize that they are far too many parasites and predators.
They don’t give a shit about broken skies or damaged rainbows
The concrete jungle has no plush sunsets or romantic nights with stars packed tightly in it like sardines.
No, Here in the concrete jungle sunshine comes in bags, blue stars are pills, there’s candy for the nose and happiness can be given to you over the counter.
you can buy love like sex , all you have to do is look for the bitches who prostitute their soul and mind.
The ones with a sweet tooth for money and an addiction for beauty.
the concrete jungle is the school of hard knocks you can choose to pay attention or they’ll sit you in detention where you can get raped by the long thick dick of the law.

Here life’s a gorgeous child experiencing domestic violence, the famished beautiful eyed girl on the cover of National Geographic dying with aids, it’s the neglected and molested little boy who was forced to suck step daddy’s dick while mommy sold her pussy on the streets to put food on the table.
Or life can be the sexiest woman ever, a bitch sometimes but damn she so fine, you can choose to fuck her but know that you will always cum first, and when you bust in her face, she will lick her lips just like you like it…but if her love is unrequited, ...expect a one night stand and an STD.

In the concrete jungle the streets are better teachers than my professors at school,
they trying to feed us this food for thought but they can’t cook,
not only will they make you wash the dishes but you will be left unsatisfied with a bad taste in your mouth.
They are sugar coating it thinking I won’t taste the lies, but I can smell the bullshit in their breath before the words leave their mouth.
The education system is that bad joke no one genuinely laughs at but everyone’s heard it before and everyone keeps telling it.
it's a Fucking circus I tell you, we got political clowns with bad makeup, scaring all the kids, juggling all the wrong solutions.
we got environmentalists as side show freaks and poor people doing acrobatics on a thin line of hope,
the rich run the show,
raking in every penny from the audience, and we sit back and watch.
some of us clapping like entertained retarded babies.
Ignorance is bliss, they'll get you if you know to much.
Protest or rebel and the magicians will make you disappear.

in the concrete jungle there are plenty lessons to learn, but first pain and sorrow have to cut deep enough for the lesson to sink in.
and what don't kill you will make you stronger.
I'm a soldier of faith that will never surrender.
i want be king, heart made of gold pumping royal blue blood , a warrior full of scars because I've been fighting to live but
In this concrete jungle…everybody wants to be the lion

City Lights

There's a chaotic beauty borne from metropolitan nights. When viewed from afar, the city looms into sight - overpowering and monolithic. In contemplation the city dominates the mind as an amalgam of billions of lights, personalities, machinations, and subtle sounds. The lights are the biggest thing. Night is just as bright as day. From a distance, the individual specs replace the stars, and when combined the moon shrinks in significance until it almost fades from notice. Inside the city darkness shrinks from sight, relegated to the furthest edges and corners where steady neon rays won't harm it.

Since Night never really comes, the city never sleeps.

Since Light never really leaves, the city cannot dream.

Collision Course

You are on a collision course with disaster but instead of hitting the brakes you’re going faster
You’ve set traps on a road only you walk afraid someone will follow you home
greed smeared all over your face it’s a disgrace how you eat selfishness and suck on the bone
you ignore the blood that runs through the streets, remove your shoes just so it doesn’t stain the carpet but you can't get that smell off your sheets
that
odor of fear
the
stain of sorrow you tried to dilute with beer
you
sweat at night afraid to sleep worried that the wolf might come for his sheep

Alone; your only friend is your shadow. ..

but who will you turn to at night?

in your darkest hour, in the absence of light
where
no hope prevails
and every attempt for rescue you try fails
who will you turn to then?
when you
gag from the scent of the wastes of men who will you turn to then when the skies fall and the stars come crashing down and the earth beneath you gets loose?
Who will you turn to when all hell breaks loose?
When
the blood starts to fill up the potholes and cracks
this isn't opinion it's statistics and facts
it's not a revolution of cracked up scientists babbling about pollution, it's an attempt for a solution, if we don't fix it we die!! What’s the confusion?,
do you
think this is an illusion?

you don't care If everybody loses as long as you’re winning
but you
wont be grinning when the world stops spinning
I
speak the truth so you think I’m mean and
your
too comfortable in your ignorance to understand the meaning
of the end

living day by day looking for the next pot to pee in
stop trying to forget the shit that we in
you can't gut this and put the weed in
your
too busy carrying your doomed ambitions so you can’t give a helping hand
if the world is doomed then why fight for oil and land cheezin sitting on your first class flight to success but
what. You. don’t. know.
is that your plane is UNMANNED

Perspective

Call this life what you wish,
be the editor of your story ,
live your dream
or make it desert dull by letting it become routine
but know that you live it on your own perspective.

Religion is the most efficient method of control and the most successfully fabricated lie.
Either that or it's the entity that gives the heart motif to beat and the mind reason to wonder why?
But In my mind, probabilities and chance battle miracles for the prize of my faith, but miracles tend to lose the war when they are unarmed with hope.
Like I'm certain of my death I believe in the goddess that is Mother Nature and her brilliant creation that is love.
I can't say it just dawned on me.
It was more of a surprise
like high noon to a drunkard
that
love isn't a product of humans;
it isn’t a product of the brain when it partially loses sanity but that it truly is the soul recognition of its counterpart, some foreign force the brain cannot explain to the heart…

That selfish rouge metronome. ..

perspective

maybe morals are residuals of a concept that was once pure and true, not sabotaged by lies.
Or it's our favorite excuse for the things we cannot explain or take responsibility for because we are slaves of our emotions.
we provide the bars to our own cell by letting irrational ideologies govern our minds

it's all a matter of perspective

The glass is not half empty it's half full
if you are not living then you are slowly dying
stop lying
cut the hard-line
I'm stingy with mine so if time was my currency then I’m not tossing my dime
It makes sense (cents)
every second counts hence
wasting it comes at the expense of precious time.

Do not see my perspective as bleak
Please listen to the words I speak

You call it sunrise
I call it magic
I watch the ocean spit out a golden flame
The sphere of fire emerges from its swim when dawn calls its name
The night bled red into the water and stained the black canvas with blends of orange and yellow
In awe I smile greeting beauty with a soft spoken “HELLO”
I promise I am not pessimistic
But at night I find I’m comforted by death when I count billions of extinguished lives that are stuck in dark void
Call me paranoid
But I can hear their last confession
as
The moon calls the lovers out for one more session

Keep up take my hand if I’ve lost you in the wonderlands of my mind
But through cerebral masturbation im getting off on imagination and creativity is my ejaculation
shit,im having wet dreams
Maybe I dream too much of the milk and honey land
Where despite our differences people can walk hand in hand
Feet sinking into the sand and love is the universal language we can all understand
So when we speak love translates itself in verse, lyrics for my heart, the one man band
It’s all a matter of perspective

BE

in the still of the night we walk through silver streets our steps echoing in the silence of the dark
the cold seems to have frozen not only nature but time itself and left us alive
no destination set we walk side by side heading for nothing
ready to walk for an eternity until we find forever
we have surrendered conversation knowing that words are emotionless compared to this feeling,
listen to the music we make;
the base of our hearts
the rhythm in our walk ,
the melody of our soul
it's a warmth that fills my chest,
a type no fire can produce
pure euphoria from knowing that you love me, words that were left unsaid.

at the thought you pull me a little closer and wrap your arms around mine.

if you have to leave i know you'll be back like the shores of the seas;
with the tensions and stresses of the world, in your comfort I'm left at ease, without worries
I won't be questioned about my walk or the Ebonics in my talk
you are what makes the better part of me because you let me BE
it’s just me
no defense systems armed
no actor playing a character
no judgment
no fear when there is no such thing as remorse
no expectations,
with you I am allowed to simply exist
I
Can
Just
Be

Show You

I’ve tried to use the reality around us to describe to you just how I feel.

Only to find a disappointing truth;

That I could write the most beautiful verses, but no matter what words I blend together they will not suffice to show you how I feel,

They unintentionally betray my feelings and come out my mouth out as blasphemy

Words lost in translation between my heart and mind

I am trying to paint you a rainbow using only black and white as color;

But if I could show you

If I could show you my love as a physical entity, I think you would be awed by what you see

Marvel at its luster…Its artistry

It’s a shame I can’t find the analogy,

For the sun doesn’t shine bright enough to show what’s inside of me

Measure my love in depth, and find that it is deeper than the voids of space and the abyss of the seas

Peel my skin like an orange and find that loving you makes the most of me like water covers most the earth, it runs in my veins bleeding everywhere within me like rivers bleed across land

Loving you the way I do is like gravity, I can feel it pulling at me

Taking over everything as light does in darkness;

Your love has dangerously become reason for existence, because with you, life is as easy as breathing;

Loving you is easier

Involuntary and oblivious like a heartbeat

It exists only for you;

without you

…it is nothing.

Re; Poets ; Casino Spanish Eyes

RE; Poets

Someone once dared me to explain Poets and Poetry,
And I simply replied that it was a reflection of me-
For I think that people are blind to the very things they see
And in my words they can discover what I aspire to be-
I can take the time to craft them a picture,
Build them a city, experience an adventure -
For there's a certain power in trying to relate
my causal experiences in regards to my fate-

So-

They now know my thoughts, what I choose to pen
A carefully constructed facade, in a truthful, youthful blend
Open hearts given a start will break apart into words of art,
And all these beautiful things, will end.

However, the end doesn't mean that there won't be a beginning,
There's no falsehood in wonder, questioning isn't sinning.
Poets are the explorers, the builders with words,
They explore the condition, through adjectives and verbs-
They give chase to the worlds flights of fancy,
They are the ones who dream of romancing -But why are we so often, not heard?

Casino Spanish Eyes

This man; His heart was close to frozen
And forever ached for time to thaw it.
He had worked on his warmth-wont wall
So that no-one could ever hurt him.

His eyes had turned to crystallized ice
Reflecting nothing in their brilliant blue
Betraying nothing but false emotion
To everyone whom he knew.

His hands held the kinds of worried warmth
Known to men who were short on time,
As if life was merely granted, not given
And could be taken at proper sign.

So he slowly started to lose himself
In the wild winters of an improper world,
Growing numb to others troubles,
But then he met the girl -

-

And she beautifully betrayed him,
So his walls were brought back in force.
To never again let the sunlight in,
To never let emotion beget remorse.

El verano siguio el invierno,
el hielo se empezo a descongelar.
En el agua, encontraron amor-
y ahi es que se perdio todo

Return to Poetry

A stranger?...no, a friend, a foe?

He takes a courteous bow tipping his hat to his toe

"Hello my good friend, it has certainly been a while"

He greets me gracefully, I'm lured by his provocative smile

I notice this familiar face, I've been to this intimate place

Enticing the felling inside, to come from the depths they have begun to reside...

A name comes to mind, and before I can make the statement...

"Welcome to "POETRY" please enjoy it, embrace it!"

For Alex's 21'st

In life there are many winding roads

Which when approached, seem to give

No clue as to what's behind the bends-

We call this confusion - Youth.

As we grow, the roads seem to mold

Themselves into the "Straight and Narrow"

But you can always find someplace new

If you have the courage to continue and

Although things may seem confusing so

You worry about whats behind the bends,

Remember that a path can handle a few

The other willing being - Your friends.

So -

To where life takes us!

To a fate of becoming Men!

For honor, good hugs, the power of love,

To tackling those twisty bends!

From the Majesty of the Morning Sun,

Till the Evening Star greets our Glorious Ends!

For Stars and Flight, Infusing Light,

To our Fatalistic Forever -

To Friends!

Where is everyone....?

Whomever has time, please contact me to let me know what's your status is. 914-406-0844.


Peace, Love, and Words

Aaron

End of Summer Event

Hey all, I'm still trying to get together an open mic in downtown New Ro. Is everyone interested still? Tinisha, Nicole, Earl, how've you guys been? What's your status? Is there a phone number I can reach you all at? I've lost my phone and I need new numbers. Nicole, are you still busy with your internship? I can't seem to get ahold of you - Respond to calls! :( Nobody likes being in the dark :(. Tinisha! I will be looking you up on FB shortly, let me know what's going on with you! Earl, you're mia like a mofo. What's the deal bro? Paulo! Enjoy Africa :D See if you can find some inspiration and put something on the site!

Peace, Love, and Words

Aaron

Today I Dreamt A Word

Today I dreamt a magic word
And conjured it into being-
Then set about showing the world
That it contained some meaning.
To flustered ears, the dismal cry
Of Nonsense captured thoughts,
Breaking syntax and doubtful sighs
To change what they'd been taught.
But they couldn't learn, had no avail
And simply couldn't comprehend
That the source of language's travail
Is what the imagination portends.

To Everyone

My phone is broken and I don't know if I'm going to be able to save the numbers. Could all of you post your phone numbers so I can save/readd them to my new phone? Also, can you guys let me know what you're doing/what you're schedule is like so I can try and get this open mic thing going on?

Stay cool

Hey Folks

Hey guys, we might be organizing an Open Mic at Kaffeine in downtown New Rochelle. Let me know what you guys think etc etc. Meeting soon. Answer Phones!

I write to take refuge from my accent.
I am told that there is content in the edges of my sound, and history in my pupils.
But you can only know me here, alone, I am accentless, I can not dance or sing or articulate my flesh-
Better to be the lake beneath your curious eyes, silently hearing your soul.
Better to be the silence that we've never known exists.

If you want to see me properly, you must know that I do not exist; you have projected this content onto my flesh.
you have sprinkled my aparation with fairy dust, my beauty is an illusion-
I am just a joint and limb, startled by movement.

The color of my hair is up for interpretation, please do not love me for a freckle of a difference from any moving body, I am the same but to myself.
If you want me, be it only because I am a blinking consciousness like the dumb owl.
Do not disrupt me not talking, I am being my soul. See me like you see yourself, unrelated to characteristic, on a mountain above a fog; I am the pool of your reflection, see me only to see you.

And if you see me cry, do not worry your mind that I too must suffer humanity-
When I die, my tears will become the literature never to be heard.