Cigar smoking begets quiet musings…


Sometimes the greatest in you is the least one you think about…

That pressure to be the one who makes all the decisions to satisfy your soul screams for acknowledgment. Wants what others have and in return craves a matter greater, better than acceptance.


It is far too wrong to make our shortcomings our focal point of thought. It is nonsensical to believe that vices can make a person stronger.

I can not even remember anytime that my wrongs were greater than my thoughts of something optimistic in nature. I feel such an emotion only at a low point in my life. No where near the bottom but low nonetheless. This sort of reasoning belongs to self-esteem deniers. The ones who want pity instead of triumph.

You know the ones I speak of.

Now for just a second, release your own prejudices or a person, or persons who irks your being from just a mere look at them. Hearing their tone, listening to their dialect. Cursing the differences and belittling all of their essence that makes them human.

Notice I didn’t say the antonym..

Could a person quiet their ignorant voices to hear and understand what the other “different” is saying?

Does anger make you say things you hate to regret?

Or does sorrow affects your being when you are not on top. When you are at equal standing with the next “different” person. When your sad beliefs are question, and you really has no response.

You forgot that intelligence equates to learning, openness to a broader understanding of self and the world.

A world not mirroring you, but you painting its surface with educational assurances.

If all of these things you can do and feel better for it. Even with the loss of friends. The exile of family, and the change in noticing, talking, believing in something you were condition to hate..

Then you are the enlighten human being of space and time.

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My window at night, iv (Friday Night Poetry Corner #40)


Everyone again, welcome to Friday Night Poetry Corner #40. Here is a poem whose imagery is near brilliant. “My window at night, iv” by Jenifer Cartland. Please visit this poet’s page and read more of great writing. Take care and thanks for visiting!

Originally posted on Poems from in between:

Breathe air into my words.
Give them spaciousness,
room to roam and be flexed,
to be held, warmed,
to have fingers run across them,
pausing, to know the sense
of being swallowed bit by bit,
or held on the tongue.

Let them open up onto the prairie
to play in all the adventure
of the wide, clear spaces,
to be enthralled by what is plain,
to unwrap the spider’s web,
trace the trails of rain,
how the breeze clips the edges
of the grass, but no more.

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Posted in Fiction, life, literature, nature, nature poems, poems, poetry, poetry readings, Uncategorized, writer, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Slice of Infinity (Friday Night Poetry Corner #39)


iphone 108

Greetings again everyone.

On a more lighter note (heart still goes out to my home town of St. Louis, MO), it is time for another Friday Night Poetry Corner #39; THE SATURDAY EDITION.

Yeah, I know, I’m a late.

This nice work of poetry called A Slice of Infinityfrom the Carbon Noise Poetry*** blog is a wonderful vivid poem of a voice at a door of something. You my fellow poets, artists, writers, etc.. be the judge of this work, the surreal turns to something you must read for yourself..

Thanks again for visiting and visit the Carbon Noise Poetry Blog from time to time..

Originally posted on Carbon Noise Poetry:

The other night,
I saw a saffron moon,
Horizon low in the sky.
Nestled between two,
Parallel shelves of cloud.
Optically tinted,
And augmented.
There it hung,
Glowing softly,
Like a great celestial,
Yellow lantern.
I had to ignore,
The almost physical need,
Like a lump of urgency,
In my chest,
Compelling me,
To photograph it.
But the sublime,
Cannot be captured,
Nor confined.
So I chose instead,
To savor that moment,
Like a slice,
Of yellow moon cake.
So delicious.
And yet so fleeting.
One tiny piece,
Is all I got.
But I’ll remember,
The taste of it forever.

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Tragedy & Hope of St. Louis, MO–Mike Brown


“That STL case was my home town. In fact the young man graduated from my old high school. I can tell you this. The bruthas I know ain’t behind a keyboard. For real. It is really time to take a good look at nation building. We must understand that violence anywhere is a threat to peace everywhere. The destruction in our communities comes from us which allow others to continue the same devilish behavior towards our kids and adults. If we don’t police our own, install knowledge of self in the form of education, empathy and self-reliance how will we stand?

What foundation are we building?
From this forth any destructive message in the form of entertainment, drugs, material wants need to be address and check. Enough of the bullshit. We either step up or step the fuck off and if we don’t see the need for true nation building??

Save the BS for others.

Save the I’m on for me for others. Because trust and believe other cultures are building nations.

They are building wealth, business, educational systems, spiritual base, and self relying money that don’t jump out the community every second of freedom. They believe they are free, we need to do the same.”

That above was a very emotional statement I posted on Facebook that came about from the regrettable actions happening in my hometown of St. Louis, MO. On August 9th, a young man, Mike Brown was shot to death by a Ferguson City Police Officer (part of St. Louis County)from mix reasons (stole some cigarettes, tried to grab a gun from the police car) From eye-witness the young man did not have a gun and even the Ferguson Police Chief confirmed this. What is striking was this young man’s body was left out in the streets, barricaded by policemen for 4 hours before taken to the morgue (or at least taken away from the scene). Four hours to which his mother and step-father look in shock, anger and horror.

Mike Brown was a recent graduate of Normandy High School and was set to start classes at Vatterott College the following Monday.

Now I will say by no means are all police bad, meaning all police are trigger happy. I must say that this looks like on surface and from initial reporting another young black man gunned down by the police. I know all have heard throughout the years of young people; young black people shot by police and private citizens under the suspicion of being a threat. St. Louis from when I grew up has always had a long history of racial tension ranging from worker’s plight for equal jobs to racial profiling. The situation is at a boiling point to which the real discussion needs to be heard..

“What are the reasons for such a tragedy, a continuing tragedy?”
One could explore this two-fold. First the obvious. There are racial tensions in St. Louis and it has not disappeared. People remember past transgressions of racial profiling and allegations of police brutality. People remember that nation wide cases of blacks being killed by police officers and private citizens using the “stand your ground” defense. No one forgets, the anger just settles for a bit until the next incident occurs. This time it is different.

This time the anger exploded!

This must be address, no longer will African-Americans will sit by and allow such transgressions to occur in their community. Any other minority group would had responded the same. I can assume that the majority White Americans of European descent would be angry if they believed a horrible event has happen with no other recourse to be heard. Sadly the anger transformed into mob violence, that is another calamity that has happen, and it is still continuing.
Second we in the African-American community must continue but take a harder approach to the violence that has been plaguing our society for many, many decades. We must be honest with ourselves and fight against the gangs, drugs, apathy, poor educational systems, piss poor parenting that destroys our families and communities as a whole. We can not separate the two, violence is violence and the spirit of such must be stomped out. If some of us has no regard for each other lives, how would one expect another person, an outsider to have the same regard? It is our communities, our problem and we need to have ACTION SOLUTIONS!

If that means calling out rich, prominent African-Americans so be it. Nation building is not a foreign concept. Any one heard of “Black Wall Street” in Tulsa, OK?

Or the teachings of Marcus Garvey?

The Founding Fathers of the United States had such beliefs in nation building, it is time for us to reclaimed that.

The conclusion..

If we want to call our Americans, if we want to believe in such a belief of common brothers under one banner. We need to seriously have a discussion on race. That means leave out the personal feelings and discuss each other perceptions and own beliefs.

Discuss what improvements in communication and a realistic education that is inclusive to all.
That also mean inclusive economics, no more building the deck against one segment of society.
African-Americans need to hear what others think of them as well. Our kitchen isn’t the cleanest so a discussion on that, a real talk needs to occur. I will warn that our culture needs to be respected and because one is different from the other doesn’t mean that is bad.

It doesn’t mean something is wrong as variety of life is a reward.

It just means we are different and that is OK. Money and resources need to be look at as an equal value. With only knowledge of self and the realistic view of the prison and media industrial complex we can sit at a table and discuss honestly.

Because remember, we are viewing more prisons being build, by private ownership and it has our face as the look of the tenants. We see media painting different pictures of us to make us look horrible, thugs, and dregs of society for sensationalize news. Oh, rappers and piss poor entertainers we have not forgotten about you. You are on notice for the glorification of classless women, disrespecting women/mothers and praising money and drugs over life-sustaining qualities such as education,spiritual and natural mental health. You are part of the media industrial complex. We see you as well.
In closing, well as I repeated before..

“Violence anywhere, is a threat to peace everywhere.”

I also think Francis Paul of the comic book Shadowkill says it best as well..

“Freedom isn’t just a word, but a way of life.”

Posted in activism, african american fathers, african american mothers, children, civil rights, death, education, Elders, family, fatherhood, freedom, life, literature, parenthood, St. Louis, teenagers, television, Uncategorized, urban, world news, writer, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Extro/Introvert (Friday Night Poetry Corner #38)


Good evening, well late evening everyone!

Welcome, welcome to another amazing edition of Friday Night Poetry Corner #38. We are moving steadily with each week fantastic poetry from very good writers here on wordpress. I appreciate and I am assuming but the other poets appreciate the support and exposure. Sometimes we can forget even the great ones, the famous ones start when people didn’t’ even know their first name..

So amandalyle1986 (I think this, well some of it is her first name:o), has a very nice poem her called–


It really speaks for it self so visit her page to read other fanatic writings. Learn her first name, then learn her love for the art of words.

Good day y’all.

Originally posted on Mediocore Poetry:

Ever have that I want to be alone, but I’m lonely feeling?
You know like, on a Friday night everyone is out in good company
While you’re home on the couch because that’s where you want to be
And as you stare at your no missed calls or messages on your cell phone
A flash of loneliness comes rushing throughout your body

But then again
You’re home on the couch because that’s where you wanted to be

Ambivert by nature, surround me with people so that I can run around the whole room
Conversing with every clique and crew
Then when I’m drained take them away

This is the way I’ve always been
I don’t know why, It’s something I cant really explain

I cling onto my personal space, stay away from it I don’t want you in my way
But come back and be with me I need…

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Shadow Within A City—Strange Visitors..

Shadow Within A City Written by F. Kenneth Taylor & K. G. Bethlehem

Greetings Everyone!

Here is an excerpt from Shadow Within A City from Chapter 11 (Strange Visitors).  BloodOath is visited by something or someone.  His mind is indeed a clouded place but he must realize he is the only one who can find peace.

If he wants it…


Shadow Within The City                 113                  Chapter Eleven: Strange Visitors



The dim light of the lair was a comfort. Hallways filled with smoke as the sound of typing were heard. The daily operations went undisturbed. Even when he worked with Gangland, his underling commanders ran the Ghost Squad assignments. They reported to him only if anything was amiss, which seldom happened. He sat back down after closing his door. He turned off the lights and lit a candle, giving a grim glimpse of a portrait on the wall—A picture of his father. At times he uttered curses at it, but sometimes, these quiet moments, he conversed with it. The darkened room made the walls glow a soft light, like the moon rested among them and invoked magic of sorts—dark magic.

Then, all of a sudden, an apparition appeared. Quietly, like a child resembling himself when he was approximately five years old. Was he dreaming? Were his eyes closed? His Heart was just waiting to explode. He turned his head towards the being. It just stared, looking blankly, right in front of him. It’s eyes were hollow, like an old log in the woods; it just stood there and BloodOath just sat there.


An unspoken code, communicated that both knew they were there. Both knew they needed to be there. The entity walked closer and BloodOath stretched forth his arms wanting to hug it—It went right through him—then it was gone. He continued to sit—unmoved to what he had just seen or if he had seen anything at all. His eyes rolled back as the candles blew out from an unknown cool breeze, even though there were no windows. He smirked honestly, as he felt ‘whole’ somehow, at least for the moment. An evil attraction. He spoke as a child again, asking questions of science and business affairs. It was the only time they spoke sincerely; the only moments he cherished besides his past memories of love—He heard more voices. . .

if you see what I see,

the moonlight dances upon watery grounds

peace, chaos yang into one…




He rested his head on the back of his chair, eyes closed, as his cheeks rustled like unsettle waters. A cool breeze covered his skin and sent tiny chills among this forefingers. The voices kept talking—mumbling a low hum from the previous banter until now.


It strengthened again to unsubtle words of past foreshadowing…





Up the hill,

Of Mary who sought to kill,

Story of stories,

Tales fell low,

Misunderstood words,

Is all you should know…”


At last he was sound asleep; strangely enough the voices consoled him—Or maybe it was his version of peace.

Posted in dark fiction, dark writing, dystopian, dystopian fiction, fantasy, Fiction, future fiction, literature, science fiction, space fantasy, superhero novels, Uncategorized, writer, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

SOLO (Friday Night Poetry Corner #37)


Welcome everyone to another edition of Friday Night Poetry Corner—#37. Well here is a treat. A poet who writes musings and poetry about her life, her online life. Pretty intriguing stuff I might add. Her name is Hiddenentity, and her work tonight is called “Solo.” Nice poem, heart-felt emotions of how people feel from time to time.

I know I do. :o)
Visiting is always welcome followed by a thanks!

Thank you..

Originally posted on BLUEST OF THE BLUE:

Like a black dot among the colorful unknown,

Like an invisibile woman that can’t be shown,

Like a low-densed object that can easily be drowned,

Like a dull creature that cannot be honed.


It’s better to be alone than with anyone else,

You’ve brought them to places, but you’re the one fell.

They’re happily living, but you’re only lying on your bed;

Thinking of your fate, that has not yet started.


It’s better to be alone and play with your pain,

It’s happier to dance and to talk with the rain.

Until you get tired, hopeless, crazy, and drained,

And wander the whole city looking for your brain.


It’s nicer to be alone and embrance your fate,

Than to have someone asking how big is your faith.

Maybe somewhere, sometime, there will be an open gate,

Run into it, like a student who only comes late.


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I’m in love with knowledge (Friday Night Poetry Corner #36)


Hey everyone and yes I know..
Well it is not but I am doing to feature another great poet on the poetry corner. Friday Night Poetry Corner #36. The title is called “I’m in Love with Knowledge” by The Empris. What a love affair but who am I to just judge this. Please visit her page when you get a chance and thanks again for stopping by for a few…

Originally posted on TheEmpris:

I’m in love with knowledge

I hold his hand 
Like air he lifts me

Our affair must not be secret

He convulses 
blood spurts from his chest
I tried to share him
what have they done

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Posted in dark writing, Fiction, life, literature, poems, poetry, poetry readings, poetry slams, Uncategorized, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Presence of Savior..


“The emotional, sexual, and psychological stereotyping of females when the doctor says: It’s a girl.”


Always in the better judgment of men? (I remember so long ago that if I speak of such what I am about the write below people would had view me as weak or some other negative connotation.  I say to all who harbors such emotions and thinking–Move on because I don’t care).

Men that is the key word to this discussion. As many though so long ago that a man’s place is above a woman in every way. Intellectually, discipline, emotional non-maladjusted with the exception of child rearing. Her place was behind a man, to be viewed not heard from. This was especially true of all women.

Even more evil, black women (any women of color) has it worse on all levels, famous elephant in the room story.

In this case I will give the above quote that was spoken by Shirley Chisholm so masterfully echoes the past institutional discrimination women faced for a very long time in the United States. Through such practices the road blocks to overall human acceptance, job non-bias employment, job non-bias promotions, and the risk of being fired if she is with child.

Still to this day, 2014 I hear people say such sad statements “Don’t be a girl.”

Meaning don’t be weak because girls are weak–obviously.

“I am a man, she’s a female.”

The lack of empathetic goodwill and acceptance is glaring.

“You should be lucky this ain’t the 20s, you have rights.”

Thanks for such a statement, I should shut up even if what I say is just as important than you elites remark, I should still shut up.

“You are such a pussy!”

Meaning dick and scrotum are stronger even though a man would sound like an opera soprano if hit in such private areas. Also has this person ever heard of—VAGINA!?!?!

If such ridiculous ignorant states are still made so freely than I guess the doctor is the blame for the first stereotype. His/Her listing of a gender already reinforce people’s idea of discrimination, their parents in some equations holds such beliefs.

I think I know one thing that would help you set aside your own prejudices and discriminatory attitudes towards women as a whole.

Push your daughter and/or little girl into wanting to be an astrophysicist.

Or a CEO of a corporation.  In fact anything that was a closed door to women because of their gender.

Just as important, demonstrate respect of person regardless of who the person is.

Posted in activism, african american mothers, education, encouragement, family, freedom, Grandmother, life, literature, parenthood, philosophy, Uncategorized, women's rights, writer, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Nightmares. (poem)


Welcome again to a late  but nevertheless edition of Friday Night Poetry Session #36. This week is an unusual, funny yet creative poet, good blogger all around. Here is charlypriest’s joint called “Nightmares.” Hope you enjoy and visit his blog when you get a chance. You won’t be disappointed..

Always remember; poetry is what you feel to paper, and love to voice.  Nothing more, and indeed nothing less..

Originally posted on CRAZY LIFE:

They say,
a man who has nigthmares
they say,
every day of his life,
they say,
is in pain.

Nightmares are part of me
just me don´t remember the last time
when, I had a nice resting but that´s fine.

It´s feels actually strange if I don´t have them
but now it seems I rest better, but not forever
eventually they do return, yes, them.

Probably that is why I have trouble sleeping
I just decided to not let them be keeping,
of me.

I wake up and brush them out
so I can go out and shout.

they slain
ever gain
so lame
fuck the pain
just trot on again.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses,

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Posted in dark fiction, dark poems, dark poetry, dark writing, Fiction, literature, poems, poetry, poetry readings, Uncategorized, writer, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments