Obligatory

I'm walking with a moving carpet under my feet, jumping low hurdles, but hurdles just the same.  

Smelling a sweet lilac on the way to the bank to cash my check, which is almost gone, with all the bills I have to pay, and some still remain untouched...

My tally...my long list of obligations has somewhat grown; not much, but hadn't decreased as much as I would've liked...

I'd like for some of these obligations to be scratched off my list. Released from my mental. Left off my brain, deleted from thoughts.  Left behind like a littered styrofoam cup dropped out of a speeding car.  Whisked off in a winding breeze; tossed swiftly aside to languor as a piece of useless litter.

Understand, it was not my plan to abandon any responsibility,

Neglect my sworn duty,

obligatory contract,

sworn oath of subject.

Reliable requirements,

Qualifications on paper,

Deniable requiem relished

Deadening of nerves,

Singed blood vessels.

Paper applications to sign your life away.

Letters and longing and expectation,

Nervousness and fear

and gripping wonder,

Promissory notes and unsigned checks,

salary verifications,

black ink pens

while sitting in hard-backed chairs,

fluorescent lights 

and salesmen with slick hair,

Aqua-velva aftershave,

smelling of cheap lies and empty promises

and outlandish interest rates.

Stained coffee cups,

sweat-stained dress shirts,

stiff suit jackets,

oxfords and starched collars,

striped ties,

dry mouth, fast deals, fast talk

and finance managers...

Pluses and minuses,

adding to subtract,

shiny cars, sets of keys, 

And mine is which one of these?

Keys please.

Freeze.

Are you good enough?

Scored high enough?

Met minimum requirements,

given sufficient information?

Debt-to-income ratio in order?

Shown good faith in lending?

Sealed the deal with substantive doubt,

How to settle this debt without crapping out...

Debt is the devil 

And need is shame, 

The mouse on the wheel 

Is going insane. 

The cycle seems endless,

the pressure is immense.

This rat race of life

Ceases to make sense. 

Photo Courtesy of Samori Cummings, ©2014

operate

Operating without functioning vital organs.

They're there, but they are not functioning.

Shelf of human organs that aren't being used for their intended purposes.

Gnarled up in shame and pain,
shorted out because of faulty wiring,
nerves deadened,
skin cells burnt,
ventricles pierced.

Hush the background noise,
silence the music
and the voices of the naysayers.
Apply the anesthetic so they won't feel any pain.

Pull it up by the strongest part,
remove the obstructions
in this heart.

Scrape out the infection,
cleanse the affected area,
remove the breach,
disinfect the wound.

Apply the healing salve.
Clean it out thoroughly.
Pump clean blood in,

Let me see if I get this straight:

You're saying:
I'm all messed up inside.
I'm hurt. I'm angry.
I'm stunted.
I'm not at the place in my life where I can give myself in this way.
But I like having you around.  I'm comfortable with you being around.

caution and wonder

I wonder if what I’m wishing is worth it.

I wonder if wishing and waiting is worthless and if wistful watch only proves to be a waste.

A waste of precious time, energy, effort.

I probably could’ve had 2 Masters degrees right now, if I had focused my efforts on something worthwhile.

Trust me little Sis, it’s never wise to allow your sunshine to reside in someone else’s uncaring back pocket.

It’s never a good plan to reach for a hand who’s not reaching for you.

It’s never right to stay up at night, thinking and dreaming about an existence that weighs so heavily on someone else’s motives and whims.  

And Yes, you #can be a “you” without a “him.” 

It’s never wise to sell yourself lies just because you don’t see your own value in someone else’s eyes.

I could’ve adopted 2 or 3 babies by now, started an orphanage or even become a lawyer--I could've been the single Claire Huxtable - all in the space of time spent…

Oh, dear God, clothes rent, shoulders bent, faith meant.

Got to pick up from here, my dear.  There must be better pastures on the horizon.

Word of caution as true as the law, son:   just don’t look for another pair of eyes to get lost in.

SOUNDTrack: Lessions and Lyrics, Lifts and Loops

I’m at a definite crossroads right now.

Laying it all down, and going down for the last time…

I read something about that the other day…

“Going down for the last time….”

Not exactly sure what that means….

But anyway….

These "cross" roads are clearly marked,

With lights, stop signs, yields, flashing yellow lights  and music.

As if I had any question at all…

I am definitely at a crossroads.

Every sign of that is present, clear and undeniable.

So, what do I do now?

How do I navigate down the right street?

How do I choose the correct path?

Here I am.

Here I stand.

There are tons of well-wishers waving me on…

I just wish I could see what directly they are waving in?

Perhaps a clue of what I should do.

I could go there, but indeed,  I won’t.

For any pivotal transition, one needs appropriate score, theme music, as it were, to help carry them through the tedium of the journey.

The SOUNDTrack for my "Crossroads Season":

1.      Pat Metheny: To the End of the World - 12 minutes of awesomeness, relaxation, whirlwind, and epiphany. #Clutch for the times when I don't know what to think or to say.

2.      Marcus Miller: Boomerang - hush and quiet for my harrowed soul

3.      Yellowjackets: Indivisible - a musical depiction of the winding turns of my journey, all to come out smooth on the other side.

4.      Yellowjackets: Geraldine - she sings, I listen.

5.     Yellowjackets: The Hope - since believing is all we can do, with the hope that we live for, too.

6.     Andrae Crouch: Just Like He Said He Would - for obvious reasons.

7.     Tramaine Hawkins: When You Pray - because sometimes you need to, "just have faith."

8.     Dawn of Destiny: Dawn of Destiny - because I am inwardly prepping myself for something I cannot see. Reaching for the #dawn of my #destiny. My brother wrote this song, and he captured so much.  He is a genius.

9.     D'Angelo:  Really Love - definite choice for just about any soundtrack. Comforting melodies and an intoxicating groove.  I kind of get mindless with this song.

D'Angelo: Feel Like Love  - strictly a groove choice.

11.   Dawn of Destiny: Don't Let Her Go - because, don't. Don't do that.

1. Erykah Badu: Bag Lady - because I'm getting rid of the dead weight, like I'm supposed to.

13.   Andrae Crouch: I'll Still Love You - because I always will love Him. No matter what.

14.   Edwin Hawkins: Imagine Heaven - because I do.

15.   Hymn:  Love Lifted Me - really, it did.

16.   Richard Smallwood: Jesus, You're the Center of my Joy - always.

17.   Bob Bailey: Lifter of My Head - He is.

18.   Brandy: He Is - because, well, He absolutely is.

19.   Hawkins: God Is - He definitely is.

20.   Sounds of Blackness: A Very Special Love - unquestionably, it is.

21.   Soul II Soul: Free Again - so good to be free again, and have a good time.

22.   Meshell N'degeocello: So Beautiful - yes, it is.

23.   Hymn:  More Love to Thee - need this always.

24.   Hymn:  I Need Thee Ev'ry Hour - absolutely dying need.

25.   Gerald Loyd: He's Able (Challenge the Lord) - yes, He is!

26.   Gerald Loyd: It's My Turn Now - it is, it is!!

27.   Luther Vandross: So Amazing to Be Loved - follow you to the moon and the stars above.

28.   The Stylistics: Betcha By Golly Wow - I just betcha.

29.   Earth, Wind & Fire:  Can't Hide Love - music, vocals, the entire experience.  I love it when Dawn of Destiny performs this.  And I betcha….whoaaaaahh…feelings showwww!  #DoThat #Yassss!

30.   Stevie Wonder:  Overjoyed - can't wait to be.

31.   Oleta Adams:  Beams of Heaven – as I go….through this wilderness below…Guide my feet in peaceful ways…turn my midnight into day….

32.   Gerald Loyd:  I Thank You Lord – Lord, I see how far I’ve come… You’ve brought me with Your powerful arm, from a mighty long way…You gave me sufficient grace, to help me to run this race, each and every day….#Preach!! Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come!  Twas your grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me on! When I look around and see, everything that You’ve done for me…I Thank You, Lord!

33.    Tramaine Hawkins:  Take My Sad Heart and Make it Glad – Set me free, dear Lord, from myself, I pray…Every time You start to move in me, I get in Your Way! Always trying to see, when nothing’s clear to me….You saw my beginning, and You’ll see my end…So, on You Lord, I will depend.  You can take my sad heart and make it glad!  Help me Lord, not to be shaken, by the things that I see, nor what it appears like, for it doesn’t have to be…All things work together, that means the good, that means the bad….So, You can take my sad heart and make it glad!

If you can get it out of your mind, I guess you can get it out of your heart.

eek...

Okay, that's all I'm going to say about that.

If I could just stop thinking and biting and picking at my nails.  I'm wasting my own money on these acrylics.... *ugh* eyeroll....

Peppermint oil for the pain in my back, and I'm over here at work smelling like "church mints"....LaSha....*LOL tears*

Well....

"Just make a solid decision to go forward from here in a different way than you have in the past."

“Mountains, not so high, when measured by the love you bring to me.

Valleys, not so low, if measured by the joy you bring to me,

Happiness is just another word, without the gift of love that only you can bring…

Loving you is easy…”   (never has been, though)?

Nail biting, soul-rendering, damnable stress… and for nothing??

UNsold. UnSnaked, UnMoved. UnMatched. 

#Welp. At least I have my prayers and good music.

Echo

When it becomes comfortable for another human being whom you admire to disregard your presence

Diminish your importance 

Deny your beauty

Disgrace your goodness

Discard your efforts

Overlook your kindness 

Underrate your preciousness 

Offer you nothing while you offer them all you have to give,

Seldom respond, if ever to your gestures of concern, 

Shoot down your expressions of warmth and benevolence, 

When it becomes commonplace for you to reach out yet never find them reaching back...

Then it becomes necessary for you to re-examine the total scenario:

If not for what you give, nothing else is given? 

So, if you withdraw your efforts, nothing is done?

Without your words of concern, none are expressed?

If not for the echo of your own unanswered voice, nothing is heard?

When next-to-nothing is no longer good enough;

When it becomes commonplace that you are reaching out for a human connection, only to find yourself standing in an empty room alone...

It becomes apparent that you can find no heart-to-heart bond, you may need to resolve that the other person does not care. Furthermore, you could conclude that they are unworthy of your love and devotion if they are unable or unwilling to show you a mere reflection of the same.

It becomes imperative that you sow your seeds of love and kindness elsewhere, in fertile ground, where they can be nourished and grow. 

It becomes the backdrop, the scene and the soundtrack for loving out and moving on. 

penny candy ~

What comes to mind when you hear the words, "Sandusky, OH"?  I think of my childhood. Of movie theater popcorn, with real butter. Of corn dogs, the advent of Buffalo wings, Icees, Cedar Point Amusement Park, Orange Julius, Mister Misty's at Dairy Queen, push up popsicles and jacks, and skinned knees and sandboxes, a town small enough that all your friends lived just one street over, of dark green cars and orange shag carpet and plaid #everything. Of the original afros, and disco music, and roller skates and bell  bottoms, bubble gum and pig tails with afro puffs and cheese doodles, penny candy and now-and-laters, Rolos and donuts and cotton candy, ice cold Kool-Aid and stripes, The Jackson 5 and walks to the corner store to get a bag of chips and an Italian ice. Brick homes and tall trees and honeysuckle, racing on foot, riding bikes and big wheels, Honey Combs cereal, Apple Jacks and apple jack caps.  Red popsicle stains on little faces and tears when I got knocked off my bike. Of racism and the Klan riding past my house, slowing down so we could see their hoods and capes, of the fear and the anger that they almost hit my daddy with their car. Of being afraid and angry at the same time, but not really knowing why.

Of loving the world while hating the realities that unfolded with each year of maturity...wishing I could undo the pain, of my friend's mom dying, of discovering that I was different from my schoolmates who had straight blonde hair, and some of them liked me just the same, even though my skin was a different color, but some of them were afraid to drink from the water fountain after me, and how some asked what it felt like to be a "blackey," and why does my hair feel like that, and of asking do black people believe in Jesus, and do we pray to him at night like they do?  Of being the only brown face in a sea full of white, the brown face with brown eyes, orange corduroys and Buster Brown shoes.  Of knowing that I was not allowed to go to school in "raggedy" clothes; the feeling of being neat and clean and dressed your best, with a nervous tummy still full of the Cream of Wheat your mommy made you eat so you wouldn't be hungry. Of having a brother to look up to, to ask questions that you didn't quite want to ask your parents, of him knowing exactly what you meant, because he'd had the same question, of asking him how he feels being the only brown face in a sea full of not browns.  Of having plenty of friends who weren't brown like me, and didn't understand my brown-ness; some were cruel, some were curious, but none were brown.

Of hailing from Pennsylvania, where hayrides, fall festivals, firewood, the smell of cinnamon and candy corn, apple cider, caramel apples,  pumpkins and squash.... the stone steps that led from the porch outside the kitchen to the garden below....the plush green warmth of 228 East Hamilton Avenue, where there were rooms of every single color....blue, orange, green....steps in between....hard wood floors and wooden steps that were polished so clean, you'd slip on them in your sock feet. of being the child of a pastor who started an outreach for the students who were brown in that college town...not only for those who were brown, but a haven for those who sought to understand God...and themselves...to grasp what it meant to be young, brown and striving for higher education, reaching for a greater component, a nugget of knowledge to empower oneself among those who only saw the color of your brown skin...to be surrounded by smart, fresh faces of brown descent, who without anger or hatred, pressed forward with unspoken pride in an identity that was threatened every day they lived....to see them advance to levels in government and academia, find their firm footing in arenas where they were not welcomed...without combativeness, knowing they were well equipped and had every right to be there.  To watch your father, a brown preacher, teach these young faces to embrace their colors (all of them) and offer the world their genuine souls and righteous efforts.  To know that these were the beginnings of better days for the brown people.....

....to fast forward 30 years, to know that the brown of your soul has never left you, nor has it robbed you of an appreciation of souls of all colors...to know that this is how you had to find your footing as a brown around many other types of souls...the wave of experiences, being followed around a department store for an hour, while you tried to browse the store's merchandise, and when you needed help with something you found, the store clerks acted as if they didn't see you...to being passed over for promotions that were given to less-qualified, non-brown counterparts, and given other reasons as to why this occurred....to being faced with the controversy wherein so many want to deny the differences for their own comfort.  You are now an adult, comfortable in your own soul, fully knowledgeable of the life of melanin...deeply longing for honesty...realness...acceptance of the evil that still lurks, and seeking valiant, concerted efforts to put these demons to rest.   Crying tears for the lives that have been lost, seeds that have been exterminated...seeds that mirror you, your family, your friends...wanting an appreciation and value in that which is you, understanding that the honest embrace is more trustworthy than a blind eye. Decades past skinned knees, bullies and bike rides, there is still a road to travel. My brown soul is willing, my heart is able, I have plenty of love and acceptance, a dose of realism and optimism…and even a little penny candy for the ride.

Black out

Trying to regain a place of peace-
of forgetfulness...
Utter amnesia of the things that make me fret.

Sadly still, I'm not there yet.