please,
stop asking me to be
better than you
I hear it in your please
geez…
if you know you aren’t your best
then you know…
I actually ‘have’ to say it?
fine, but see what I mean?
what I was saying is,
Then you know,
there is better in you
therefore, there is
better you can do
choice doesn’t speak like forced ultimatums
saying, “this is something
you better do”
instead, what’s being presented is
an option which both
is better for you
and betters you
so the better you know
the better you can
the better your will
the better you wield
and the better you do
so please,
stop asking me to be
better than you
Mercy
Global Tel-Missing-Link
building connections on a payphone when the time is limited tentative and expensive
pretending with
friends for benefits and friends with benefits who are really family that’s acting out their disconnections differences and distances
conveniently forgetting you on thanksgiving and Christmases
then every new year, your birthday gets tossed in the shuffle as if they just remembered the imprisoned position you’ve been sitting in since sentencing
still aging through dissonance and dissidence
but you technically grew there
cut your roots there
worn out your boots there
found your truth there
got fractured relationships broken hearts and gaping wounds there,
scars and chipped your tooth there
seen murders, suicides, and burning roofs there
segue, I really miss a cold root beer
in a restaurant choosing the view in the room perusing sitting in a booth chair
present yet able to be so aloof inside of social reality spoofs, proof of the intoxicating spruce of new air
but back to killing connections on global tel link when the other side is guessing intentions
while trying not to seem so dismissive, pretending to be the most attentive and not insensitive
but they aren’t that convincing
though you can almost hear it,
their shoulder twitching, composure fidgets and you’re sorta flinching, wincing
feeling the aura shifting but you ignore it quickly
‘cuz you really need this phone to lift you
it’s just that, you’re so close to falling,
yet you keep talking, facing towards the wall like a small closet that fits you
so you can hold onto any old feelings missed through recorded extensions because when you hang up,
your hang-ups end you back up and back in between fences
where everyone is defensive,
taking everything offensive pretending through everyone else’s pretenses
envision this…
you’re suspended within the air’s thickness
electric with tension
reeling through traumatic instances and reflected images projected throughout the lifespan of systemic judged sentences
then the temperature tends to drift with impending incidents
maybe based on past incidences or just incidental
with incantations of certain slurs mentioned
because everyone is temperamental
so you can’t get caught up being too sentimental
‘cuz calm confident composure is existential
when avoidance or escape is too hard because every threat isn’t only circumstantial,
but residential
you know too well that it’s by design, it ain’t coincidental
misery don’t love company, it just needs an excuse
I should know, cuz usually the miserable are more of a recluse
but it still doesn’t stop them like most people from tending to snoop
just to get a scoop, so they can stop sitting in their own poop
by turning the light on someone else’s indiscriminate truth
segue
that’s called deflection
it’s a psychological survival method
built to project cognitive distortions and emotional objectives you’ve invested
for you’re own protection
now back to wondering of the disconnected connections of prison phones
when new contacts
try not to contract
the dysfunctions you combat
as if you’ve been stricken with covid
as if contract tracing from people who’ve gotten close to you in your past leads them to an obit
wondering how much truth you tell and how many lies you omit
I’m like, damn, am I not suffering enough? you know this
I can tell your thoughts keep you veering focus
who befriends or lends hands to prisoners just to assume them poachers?
this ain’t the land of empty platitudes, all of our closets been pried opened
unless you plan to bear yours, forget mine, embrace context and just live on and stop bringing up old shit
I tell them they’re welcome to go, there’s nothing you owe me
oh, and let me admit,
right now I’m isolated
in quarantine
inside of segregation
because all misery is passed down or passed forth and throughout all my precautions, still I’ve contracted covid…
yea, I know how that sounds,
as if prison isn’t already lonely
but isn’t that what prison is?
isolation
quarantine
segregation?
no wonder I’m in need of affirmations
while weaving through the intentions of people who preside over my incarceration
those that come in treating me like a patient,
choosing the most miserable place as a show of goodwill that’s godly motivated
or just as an income-based occupation
judging my emotional deflation,
eye contact deviations,
blank gazes,
and vocal intonations
while I’m living through demasculinization
and identity castration
practicing spiritual cultivation
as their wrong presumptions of my intellect, rebellious subversion and mental well being seem like innocent or projected character assassinations
to protect their position description and pontifications
guarding unknown or known feelings of unconscious or conscious biases and superior feelings rivaling their lack of experience-
couple with knowledge that has only been educationally graduated
mixed with a savior’s complex predisposed from environments that created authoritative infatuations
so who’s here to help who?
I seem more doctor in a place that houses patients
segue
and I’m a patient,
an inpatient, inpatient made to stay patient
but whose hear to help who?
I seem more doctor in a place that houses patients
for those I call out to, or call out to me-
whom only found me because of my historical lapses of behavior
inside of a system and society that had never done me any favors
it’s crazy how the distance on phones only serve to keep you physically disinfected
but that detachment only makes me wonder
how many of your own infections do you continue ingesting only to blame it outwardly on the person who’s less able to fight the damning disassociations of our systemically created social disconnection?
just because my mistakes have been viewed as weapons
used against me for your own protection
but I’ll take the onus
I’m wrongly outspoken
tearing through relations of recorded cordless phone line connections
one minute left…
before we’re disconnected
I Got a Story to Tell
to the performance stage, from a prison cell
I got a story to tell
chaos was the earth, everywhere I dwelled
I got a story to tell
I had contemplative meditations and prayers in hell
I got a story to tell
introvert turned extrovert, forced to come out my shell
I got a story to tell
I was once on track, until trained thoughts derailed
I got a story to tell
I once believed in everything I was told, until I rebelled
I got a story to tell
I gauged worth in visits, collect calls, emails and snail mail
I got a story to tell
I weighed love by numerous relationships failed
I got a story to tell
even my ex told me I left her because I didn’t tell
I got a story to tell
I let the conditioned love learned from family set sail
I got a story to tell
and got strong from reps of pushups after every time I fell
I got a story to tell
I once believed the symbol of life being, hammer and nail
I got a story to tell
in prison you’re blind to the world, so we codex our own brail
I got a story to tell
statistically defied death, passed go, still landing in jail
I got a story to tell
because of course I couldn’t afford bail
I got a story to tell
and the years to come, I’d get to know those chapters well
the making of WayOfLife, bear witness to this story I tell
Set the Intention to be Free
hello?
is this mic on?
are these lights on?
my thoughts when I was first born
after one big stretch, I came forth on this stage of life with a huge yawn
as I was reincarnated from infinity and beyond
a new destined truth had just spawned
from dusk,
til the settled dust and rust and specs of dirt and trampled earth before the next dawn
my vertebrae erect, my head held high, my chest expanded, my abdomen tightened, my breath deep as I opened my eyes and reached out my arms
I felt life
I embraced, life
even in prison, my body imprisoned, my body cast by the walls of prison, my body an extension of this prison caste system
I still feel life
and I want you all to feel it with me
then recreate with me
I want everybody reading or listening to this right now to be radicals!
I desire you to break down all the structures and their walls
all the names, labels, titles and definitions to the language you speak
I want you all to close your mind, open your hearts, turn up the volume of your spirits and dream with me!
clear your thoughts
ignore logic, forget age and be as free as a child with me
empty yourself of all emotions
and be as weightless as a feather
unconditioned
imagine feeling your being, being completely free
now draw forth your divine will and create with me in this moment
we are going to escape our bodies
we are going to transcend all forms
and recreate the canvass of existence from the undifferentiated mindset of complete oneness
colors only describe frequencies but have no names
justice will be recreated
truth will be whole and known
love will be inescapable
pain will be understood
joy will be the voice of the spirit
success will be the health of the world
earth will be the vehicle for experience
nature, the vehicle for the body
and your body the vehicle for God
and we will all walk in the embodied omnipresence of our creator!
expressing through the accessed powers of omniscience and omnipotence
influencing our realities through and only with, truth
emotions expressing our divinity, not insecurities
existing peacefully with our innately balanced being, and so we are
in harmony, synchronicity, serenity, serendipity
and so we are, the manifested order in the chaos
of darkness, confusion, and the illusions of loss
and so we are, One
and now, we create
with the duality of our being,
bodies encasing eternal spirits and nameless souls
combining both sacred and secular as a lifestyle
feminine and masculine, equal in our complimentary functions
reciprocity
righteousness
rapture
and let it be so, as we bring forth form to formlessness
and our kids run free with purpose
and us adults run free from prisons with our kids
in the likeness of God, together, with purpose
Living With Myself
if you could imagine for a second
what it’s like to be me, for one minute
an hour, would seem a lifetime to you
a day, purgatory
and a week, would turn you into the devil himself
but still I live without asking your help
or opinion
Reborn King (Spoken Word)
and you are a newborn prince
or
a reborn king
and you have to pay the price
for generations before you
after you
and for your inherent state of being
a being in which humanity has become enemy
a being in which families are divided by cases pending
a being
which has been careened
by many seen and unforeseen
evil plots dreams and schemes
all that deem
you to limit your dreams
all that deem
for you to be blinded by material means
all that deem
to incarcerate oppress and marginalize your genes
all that deem
you to be in between the seams
or beneath
obscured from view
instead of the adornments of
crowns and wreathes
roses thrown at your feet
but in this new world, you tie on cleats
going to battle with predisposed defeat
and the breech
of being placed as least
and onto a leash
restricting the neck
the more it breaths
you can’t breath
the more it drinks
it leaks
the more it speaks
it squeaks
but you don’t squeal!
though battered by speech
bittering your speech
hindering your reach
disfiguring your peak
dismembering your feats
rendering you, bleak
rinse cycle on repeat
you’ve mourned your peace
they’ve torn you piece
by piece, scorned as weak
and still you reap!
and still you wreak!
havoc!
and the pungent odor of resilience
embrace your stink
but hold your head high above your sink
look right into that mirror
mirror, image of self, image
mirror, an answer to questions
mirror, reflection of deceptions
mirror, conception of inception
mirror, absorption of illusion
mirror, destiny of direction
mirror, digestion of message
message of vantage
vantage of anguish
anguish abandoned
inside all of your damage..
despite it you manage
you fight disadvantage
you fight for revival
you fought for disciples
you fight for your life stillllll
you fight thru the lies stilllll
you don’t have your eyes sealed
you don’t need no blindfold
you already know how time goes
damn, where the time go
you was just a Tyco
but now you a psycho
its part of the vicious, cycle
no pardon for rights that all fight to indict you
I said, no pardon for rights that all fight to indict you
you still keep your eyes glued
you can’t afford for opportunities to fly by you
because they are rarely ever, right by you
with a good girl by your side down to ride right beside you
embracing the waves of life’s tidals
as hope and defeat outline and spike your vitals
coping through trials and pill vials
projectile bile across floor tiles
as pride was piled
inside of your stomach track, where it remained idle
because life is baptism by fire
and your skin is the explosive proof
so you have inherited every struggle possible
so when you are ready, there can be nothing that keeps you
from propelling higher
because your imagination and will won’t tire
though your tires won’t stop rolling
because you were born
a reborn king