1964 that cold wet December, 12:45 no one is left to remember, a cold slap from the doctor’s hand, another crack baby born into this land. A nursing mother unable to cope with a poison nipple dripping out dope, that’s how life began then detritus seeped in. A child’s vision impaired! hearing was faint! now kindergarten awaits! but it’s much to late. The filth that was home while mama turns tricks all night long, another john has come and gone. Then add a boyfriend and now two! the hellish beatings this child would go through. The randomness for heaven sake, life’s course set by the twist of fate, now ten years has past this child no longer tries but still in school living a lie, don’t know why. Watching the other kids who didn’t have to cry, still there’s a flicker of hope! but it’s time to cope! with his next beating with a belt or rope. This wicked pain but he no longer cries, the light in his eyes steams like festering meat with maggots and flies. The hate in his heart it’s a planted seed such an ugly weed! will make us bleed. He turned fifth teen now and will take no more, his next abuser was beaten to the floor, he stuck a knife into their liver with cold dark eyes that would make you shiver. He’s now on the streets and he’s ready to win, there are no rules to a life of sin. He found his family in a gang, twisted by sadistic pain with violent out-burst he cant restrain, your life may never be the same. He’s twenty one now and he’s on the run, he’s killed so many some just for fun. Now standing before a Superior Court Judge, ever defiant even quit smug! your child is now dead from his slug. Now! you want to have a say just before the courts put him away, you scream about the hell he’s put you through, his response would chills you blue. “ I hear it in your voice! you’re looking for remorse! like I ever had a choice. That anger in your eyes that’s the anger that killed me inside, I feel your burning pride. Now you want to see me fry, I enjoyed hearing you cry. Hope you never see me again, you only cared that your family wins, now feel the hell that I’ve lived through, the next chance I get I’ll kill you too! ”.
You’ve heard that old tale even when your heart jumps, cry and swell! the devil is in the details, so regardless of your point of view we all pay the Devil’s Due.
Welcome again to all my new friends from the Sandymancan your poet with a plan, when the shit hits the fan. I bring to you a service and it’s new when hard times come to you, when those pesky phone calls make blue, Sandman’s answering service will comfort you.
This one is for women and I think it is just right, when your shopping keeps you up at night, so have a listen and at it’s end email the Sandyman to lend you a hand
Those surrendering eyes of a child, tearing at the heart that’s were it starts
Despair in a smile lost hope cold and loud, tender mercies abandon to pain
The tracks of tears builds increasing strain, oh noble poet’s words are in vane
The dying heart of a child remains, condemned living in a world cursed by man
Now who shall claim no blood on their hands, a mother’s moment of weakness
A child’s life rattled by incompleteness, so what do you say to this little face
Confused child trying to find their place, a child’s wanting will pull at the heart
The not knowing is tearing this child apart, so forever now this will haunt thee
Words of why didn’t mama want me.
You know some people just don’t have a sense of humor, you take this past Valentine day I sent this out as a mere subjection with a little humor in it, well! it didn’t work out so well.
Take moment and listen to it yourself, I don’t know was I that far out of line you tell me!
A World Of Silences
Can you hear the deifying cries of silences, a world staring within indifferent to the cry of hunger, poverty and it’s sins. No! we longer hear the anthem of am I my brothers keeper, while fortifying our personal position as we sink even deeper.
I see the angry fingers pointing in the social media haze, the haves and the have not engage with hatred and rage. The cold stone agony in needed eyes, pushed aside by those who would say they are not like me, there not on my side.
The first world feeds while the third world bleeds, while white and black continue fight, Christen and Muslims kill for each think they are right. While all others defiantly stand to defend, no ones is ready to extend a helping hand! nobody wins.
“These are the times that try weary hearts, profane are the circumstances that lie and await you in the dark”
You comb over your life in your mind’s eye, you can feel the ebb and flow of your emotions, those vivid way point of recollections strung out on life’s memory line through time. Then you conjure up an alternating directions, those wonderings of this new alternated directive. Life’s simple score cards it’s a strange game, you never really know if you’re winning or losing because at its end! nobody wins. Still of all the collected memories on life’s time line its enduring passions of anything stands supreme. As for me within those enduring passions the delicateness of women! nature’s surprise and man wonders.
I feel the rhythmic rhythm in your inner sanctum, a deep chamber for your womanhood eruptions. Your submission hides among the shadows in fear while I stalk like the predator! my intentions are clear.
You’re the zebra! in that state of grace, I’m the cheetah in this chase hostile! was the pain in my swirling passion boiling loins in volatile blood read the caption.
I peer into your eyes look back if you dare, your body goes limp from my demanding stare! a quick yank of hair as your head tilts back, I’m inspecting my prey it was never in doubt.
Those quivering thighs your impulsive breast, feverish waves from my unrelenting thrust, impatient nipples they shiver in fickle fear, sweet total surrender my demands are clear.
Needy naked bodies arc now throb then swell, these torrent aromas mingle just before they tell, neglected bodies sloshing it’s wet inspiration, our clutching body hairs clinging in desperation.
That dragging lick! inflamed clitoris to moisten lips, our disjointed minds twisting realities view, devouring each other drowning in our own goo.
Obeying spreading thighs I render my tender kiss yes! submerging myself in your healing mist, falling to your knees your eyes cry the word please, nothing can be done until passion has made it’s run.
As you make your way in have a sit down please! get comfortable, I offer the shelter of my imagination, a way station in from the hostile environment we all endure attempting to satisfy the unending demands of life. I seek your assistance as well, fending off my own shackles and demons that would hold hostage the serenity! in my tranquility. Let us fortify each other against the inevitable storms of rising tides, crashing waves from which we can not hide, to the riptide’s nasty surprise, again I bid you Welcome!
This blog was born from a recognition of wisdom that only took 55 years, 2 months, 17 days and 13 hours, which would bring us to today or about the same amount time that I have been alive. Well they say wisdom takes time! a commodity sometimes that’s so hard to find, as we each get stuck on our own merry go arounds. In this blog I will explore the evolution of that earned wisdom as I start a new and exciting chapter of life. Through this sharing with you may it rid you of your own apathy then invigorate the world’s declining empathy.
As a middle class young black kid from South Central L.A. with two sisters, we were raised by both parents, a father who worked two jobs for many years providing for his family, a mother who had worked all her live as well, the lynch pin and glue to domestic stability. In 1985 I joined the California Department Of Correction as a Correctional Officer, it had begun.
The unrelenting all-consuming forward marching accumulation of Stuff! my second day on the job was a 16 hour advancement of this goal, 8 hours being my first overtime shift. If one extra shift was good then 3 sometime 4 a week was even better the conclusion I came to. My wife who’s was my girlfriend at the time was set upon by me to quit her job, leave her friends and give up her apartment in Los Angeles to follow me to a sleepy little area at the time in San Luis Obispo County, about 1 hours drive north of Santa Barbara.
The 11 month on the job we close escrow on our first little home in Paso Robles CA but the march for stuff had just begun there would be no turning back now. Paso Robles was a grape growing region with vineyards and grapevines as far as the eye could see, my 4 year on the job we close escrow on an 1 acre plot surrounded by grapevine in all directions. This would be where we would build our new home. Oh but the march for stuff only intensified as the overtime shifts sack upon each other until my days were just a fussy maze of recollections.
We married be mindful of cost for the accumulation of stuff could not would not be supplanted by anything else in my mind. Within the 5 year of the job our new home was completed, our daughter our new addiction was already here and my wife, son, daughter and myself moved into our new home. Yes! the need for more stuff! waits for no man, there would be new furniture for the new house, let us not forget the BMW how in the hell could we do without that.
The Day Of Reckoning:
As I look back from a viewpoint of clarity I am lost to understand my lack of rationality, embarking on this course of lunacy. The years passed while my family was asleep when I went to work and asleep when I came home from work. In 6 year the wife was gone, the kids were gone but the support would remain and in a few more years the house would be gone. Now there’s two household and the demand for stuff! times two, hell! that march turn into a charge! well no one was waiting at home any longer surely 5 overtime shifts over a 7 day work week would fix it.
Twenty five years had passed my kids are grown up but were taken care of but two more long term relationship of mine over those years would succumb to that never-ending pursuit of more stuff. It took me 55 years to get it but I got it, I’ve just moved to North Carolina within the same month of the date of this post, I dragged a truck load of accumulated stuff with me from Los Angeles to spend sometime with my daughter and grand kids. I won’t be here for long, I’ve already sold or donated 30 percent of the stuff I brought to North Carolina and I plan to eliminate another 35 percent over the coming months.
I’ve have some living to do over these next few years, I am well-built from 25 years of working out in the gym, I’m in excellent health, the stuff I don’t get rid of will be going into long-term storage. I’m in the process of renewing my passport and attaining some visas, then I’m off to South East Asia. My lease here in North Carolina ends in August of this year, I plan to touch down in Bangkok, Thailand September 2 this year. You are welcome to follow this adventure here, my story will unfold in poems, videos and weekly post. I will be visiting Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, Hong Kong, Philippines, Taiwan and China.
This will be a one-way ticket, Thailand or Malaysia will be my base depending on which visa comes in, most places I will be spending no less than a month and I don’t know when I will be back to the US, that part I had no intentions of planning. I have spent the better part of my life accumulating stuff that I didn’t need or enjoy that much after acquiring it, this time I’m collecting adventures. If you come to the same conclusion one day maybe I’ll run into you, if you follow my blog who knows one day I might be buying you a drink in Kuala Lumpur. It took 55 years but I got it, I got it.
“The picture or the one thousand words, look behind the eyes and the soul can be heard! when there are no words.”