Dumbed Down 20/30

Uneasy
Unrest that follows the hesitation stuck in your chest
like breaths trapped in the onslaught of asthmatic gasps for life
there is no room for capturing of revelations or deeply inhaling
so haling Marys becomes the first choice of instinct
this insight staggers in on the tail end of
pipe dreams laced with trace amounts of reality

two hits to an already unstable psyche convinces me that
prime time tv remains the only place where
relativity is relatively accessible
so bartering my gifts and talents to the highest bidder makes me marketable
my soul, once unattainable, is next in line to be strapped across the auction block
and as long as I'm content in selling my flesh
trading venues for sex
they will from time to time let me slip in some of my own unadulterated thoughts

ignorance, like shrapnel, pierces the core of my beliefs
bullet wounds to my sanity
shots to the head assasinating royalty

"assimilation
assimilation
assimilation"

they demand & they scream

and so just like I bleed the remnants of life
cyclic
periodically dripping between my fleshy thighs
The message God has given me bleeds out of the wounds
dripping and sticking around my eyes

reaching up & wiping away relics of warrior cries
fingers stained with the crusted remains of deities
songs on the wind and the wisdom of ageless men
but I can't stop the loss
and it crowds my lids making my vision blurry
Kings and Queens sing tribal songs of sorrow the more I blink
cause the more I blink, the less I see
and the, less I see the less I think
and the less I think the less I need to make a scene
and the less I need to make a scene the more money they are willing to pay me
cause they know I got mouths to feed
but if I'm anything like the degenerate bleeding out beside me
I'm blowing this first whiff of cash on anything shiny and fast
and I'll be back knocking on the door first thing in the morning
beggin them to hit me
hit me
hit me with a little somethin' more

cause at first I was inhaling
pipe dreams laced with small amounts of reality
but now I'm ready
I'm haling Marys
while they plug me into the system
like needles crossing the barriers of skin
I no longer hear the wind song or the wisdom of ageless men
Kings and Queens have been silenced
I'm injected
purposely infected
disease ridden
carrying the virus of those same men who
once told my Grandfather he was nothin'
after sellin' him 14acres of land
then forcing him to guess the number of beans in a mason jar
just to gain the right to take my Grandmother's hand
and ask for something as precious as marriage
they made spectacles out of them and made them out to be horses to a carriage
fitted with braces and weighted down with words that carried
heavy soul crushing stigmas that were unfair and unbalanced
Ignorance...infectious...deadly

Coursing through my veins making me immune to reason
I hear only my heart beating
the rhythmic call to order
finally got me to breathe without thinking
and now I'm living without dreaming
cranking out ruthless garbage without feeling
I'm yearning but not feining
learning never teaching
seeing never seeing
saying nothing REAL LOUD
dumbed down for mass pleasing

I'm restless and...
Uneasy
Unrest that follows the hesitation stuck in your chest
like breaths trapped in the onslaught of asthmatic gasps for life
there is no room for capturing of revelations or deeply inhaling
so haling Marys once again becomes the first choice of instinct
this insight staggers in on the tail end of
pipe dreams laced with trace amounts of reality

and though the revolution shies away from being televised
you can find it right before your eyes
while you're standing there blinking in sync to the chanting of your name
you've reached super star high
hidden agenda personified

successful...ly silenced

a new sheep for the spotlight...

blinking...


blinking...

every now and then wondering if
the selling of your soul
was worth getting high off your dream...




j.claude(C)2011 Phoenix

Moving forward...

Very recently I found myself back on a familiar path...closing my eyes running my fingers across memories that resemble the bark on trees, encasing years of life that was poured into our relationship, I could still feel the essence of God residing between the cracks & spaces of our timeline...lips creasing creeping into a smile soul becoming infused with what our laughter felt like. Young dreamers who stumbled across their own Narnia & met in a place where there was no space or time, only the memories. Golden & crisp like ripe melon fresh picked & drenched in sunshine, oh the memories.

Recently I found myself playing the "what-if" game...toying with ideas as volatile as the hands holding them. Staring down the barrel of a gun. I could selfishly choose my own shortcomings or love me enough to think about the longterm. Hmmmm...Looking into my heart I saw the desperation screaming out "when is it my turn. Why.Not.Me" Easier said than swallowed. Easier thought than admitted.

Recently I found myself pausing...reading over the book of my life thus far. I see missing pages, ripped sections, portions blurred by tears that stained my eternity...time has not only been unforgiving, but has shined a stark light of truth upon my towering giants of insecurity. Because the truth is, I've never felt good enough.

Good enough.

Good enough to...to..to be the focus of someone's attn...to be liked for who I am...

Good enough to...BE. And it's amazing what happens to the human spirit when it's subjected to that kind of mental slavery. No amount of accomplishments can revive the death that comes from inner abuse. Years. Years of torture that I slept with at night...I couldn't just...BE. Then we met & I thought "he gets me"...and everything started to change.

Very recently I wandered down a familiar path... familiar but long forgotten...following the trail of footprints...leading back to times when summers were long, faith was on full throttle & spirits were innocent. Confessing to him the one thing I could never admit to myself; tears fell like rain pelting my chest seeping into the cracked barren ground housing my heart...& he spoke words that made me remember how I first felt to be young & in love. Love. "I believe in you. I support you. I love you" Nothing really romantic about it...just truth. Words tossing blows to my psyche like a heavyweight. Bringing with them feelings that force your entire being to recognize the insurmountable power of God within yourself...the beauty...the serenity...the divinity of pouring out and being poured into by a person who...get's you...ya' know?

I believe that our interactions are destined. We've grown through the seasons...apart,together, apart, together...and now we're here and who knows what's to come?? Finally opening my eyes and looking back I see that I've reached the end of our path...full of those memories...eyes lingering on the maybe's, the missed opportunities...I smile to myself knowing that they will always remain where they are because a missed opportunity was just something God never meant to be in that capacity...breathing in deep I will miss this place. I know I'll venture back one day...bring my children & show them where I found myself...where I learned to love. Love God.
Love myself.
Fingers lingering for one second longer across the memories that will forever remain a part of my journey I whisper "thank you"

One last look.
Spinning on my heels, shoulders back, destiny in sight, blinking back tears, smile brimming over from deep within,I move forward...


One foot in front of the other...I love you too.




j.claude(C)2011 Phoenix

Authenticity, Loyalty...No more gray area

"the heart is forever inexperienced..." -Henry David Thoreau



They say that in math, randomness is order. In my life, what was once order has collapsed into the random. If I were a math problem I'd be on the crux of being figured out. But this is not a math problem and I am no closer to a solution to that question which plagues me than I was when it first presented itself into my world...-ehhhh...C'est la vie *shrugs shoulders*

I've always been a very complex simpleton. When it comes to relationships, romantic and otherwise, I ask two things. Authenticity. Loyalty. That's it. People have heard me say this before and slipped off the deep end into all kinds of rhetoric and deep philosophy and such...and with a wave of my hand I pay them no attention because my method and formula is tried and true. I wish for people to approach me as their authentic selves, free of the worry of what is going through my mind. After this approach, I wish them to prove themselves loyal if asking for my friendship OR seeking me out as a partner in a relationship. When you are authentic you are truthful. You carry those fruits of the Spirit...loving, peaceable, kind hearted etc. Perfect? No, but you are settled enough in your skin that you know what you want (well...as settled as any human being can be)...and then comes the loyalty. Loyalty is a characteristic that will allow a person to act in a certain manner when it comes to those things they are loyal to. When you are loyal to yourself FIRST, you understand how to conduct yourself to keep yourself at your most authentic state at ALL times...you get what I'm saying?? You know how to draw out the artillery when needed...you know which words to use in the moments of turmoil...you know how to hurt feelings without breaking spirits...tell the truth without being spited for it...mastering the delicate craft of coming in contact with the human spirit without hindering it...handling situations so that you are not stepped upon but you remain true to the person God intended you to be. Your most authentic self. Your foundation is solid. When these qualities are in place, then interacting with another is as easy as breathing in and out. It is automatic. It is selfless and takes little effort.

Over the years, I have found that being authentic and loyal will get you everywhere and nowhere, depending on who you ask. Well, in my honest opinion (because it IS MY blog) I think it gets you everywhere...with ME at least.

I am getting to the age where I have acquired the "Fool, I don't know you" face for those who have shown themselves shaky when high winds come along. I treat those around me, how I want to be treated...and when I am wrong, I'm wrong. It's not easy for me to admit, but I do and I get over myself. *a-HEM* More people need to learn how to do that...GET OVER THEMSELVES.

Contrary to popular belief that I am a walking Jeopardy game, I don't know everything...but I DO know this much, I ain't puttin' up with the foolery from GROWN FOLK no more!!! I don't have time. You're in my life or you're not. You call me just to say hi or you don't. You only use me as your ear to vent or you're truly concerned about my well being. Either you're with me or you're not. You support me or you don't. It's black or it's white. I'm done with the gray area...and by all means if you feel I fall in your "cutoff" category, please do so with the QUICKNESS. My feelings are not beyond repair...don't get me wrong, YES, they DO matter. Like my girl Sharon (Princess) says "my feelings are all I have"...but seriously, they are not beyond repair. I'd much rather know your purpose in my life and your intentions for me then to sit around anymore wasting time "hmmmng" & "hawwing" about:
-why we're not like we used to be
-why you won't talk to me
-why we been friends for YEARS, then you get in a relationship and I ONLY hear from you when you're fighting with the sig other o_O
-why you won't hire me at your counter when I know I'm a &#%?$@ good makeup artist!!!
-why you "liked" all my profile pictures then de-friended me on FB
-why I look like the female version of you but you still can't get right[DADDY!!]
-why you don't text me back
-why you won't respond to my Yahoo messages
-why you were down for the goodies til YOUR heart got involved then played me out like one of your "back of the bus hoes"
-why you're married & still tryin' to knock it down
-why you won't RESPOND TO MY YAHOO MESSAGES!!!!

*PAUSE* Wait I said that twice...Ok...sorry...I'm yelling ::blushes:: forgive me...but you get my point. I'm getting too old. It's not worth it. I can't stop the thoughts from drifting into my world every now and then, but I can fa'sho put an end to them!!

So, in lieu of alllll of that, I'm dedicating this blog right'chea to my sanity. My peace of mind. I can't change my past, and you know what, I can't expect You (this includes all the YOU's in my mind & the You's in the minds of all those nodding in agreement while reading this & starting out on this journey with me) to change anything in my future if you are not willing.

As for me and MY HOUSE, we shall not live in the gray area any longer. The truth, though inexplicable at times, will remain steadfast. And guess what, those people in my/your/OUR lives that truly matter, even during those seriously ROUGH patches, they will remain steadfast. All else are (say it with me, on the count of three, 1-2-3) OF NO CONSEQUENCE.

Yup...no more gray area.

Like I said, I'm a very complex simpleton.

Authenticity. Loyalty. That's all I ask...two self containing characteristics that will get you everywhere and nowhere, depending upon whom you ask...

You're probably still wondering what that question was I was asking myself earlier right??

Mmmmmmm...*sighhh* yeahhhh...::gazes out window::

You know...I don't even think it matters anymore...



j.claude(C)2011 Phoenix

Introspectively speaking...

"As if you could kill time without injuring eternity...Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined."-Henry David Thoreau




I'm realizing more and more as my breaths turn into sunrises turn into sunsets turn into days weeks months years that I need to take myself a little less seriously. I've found such solace in my goals and accomplishments, but at the same time have found reason to berate myself over my failures. Peace has been on my list of things to acquire for quite some time now, and I've figured out how to attain and hold on to this rare treasure. The moment I stopped wondering why my failures were present in my life, and started understanding that I am a collection of every moment (failures and achievements included) in my life, I figured it out! Peace is not stumbled upon when all the bills in your life are paid, all relationships locked into place, and every day is another monumental picture in the "Who's Who in This Game We Call Life"; it is rather gathered in bits and pieces during those rough patches in our lives...when we are sailing along w/o a destination, and feeling disconnected from our purpose, peace is a decision we make to live every moment!! Not like it's our last or first, but as if it's a privilege. Our circumstances cannot define our peace, because circumstantially, everyone has to sleep at night, and its during those times when we rest that true peace can grow. Its all about conscious efforts. Decisions made inside the moment to fight for your right sleep soundly at night.

Sitting, staring at the water during Christmas Break at my Mom's house, I watched the tide roll in and out...and then it hit me. Waves, miles from shore are still connected to the peaceful lulling ripples nipping at the feet of those strolling by. No matter the position or state of action the water is in, it's all connected. You can't disconnect water from it's wave. Hmmmmm...ok, so the revelation came to me...I'm like that water...I can't be separated from my purpose, even if I tried. This bit of knowledge has completely changed my way of thinking!! I am determined to shake the fear and restlessness and anxiety and stress from my mind and heart and go CONFIDENTLY in the direction of my dreams. God is so great in his ability to reveal the semblance of Earth & Heaven stored in simple nuances of every day life.

I said ALL of that to say, I'm making the effort to see past the mountainous terrain sprawling across my life...I've been so caught up stressing that these failures and burdens and barriers were piling up and blocking me from my blessing instead of just taking a moment to chill...relax...yeah, the mountain has to be climbed but its really ok to pause & enjoy the breeze every now & then...

And besides...I have a better view of sunsets from up here...

it's the little things that make all the difference...


j.claude(C)2011 Phoenix

Untitled Genius (Collab)

A friend and I collabed on a piece quite randomly last year...finally got around to piecing it together & voile!! Out came a finished product

After each section that we wrote, shortened versions of our names are listed in ()

PT=PoeticTone
Ph=Phoenix

I truly was inspired & had so much fun doing this, vibing off of his energy!! I hope you all enjoy!!

Untitled Genius



Too often I have to remind myself to try to forget about you...You disturb my nerves to the point where loving you is not longer optional but a mandate function for my survival...You're my revival...Allow me to celebrate tomorrow inside the womb of your today...Tell me you're worth it...Promise me I'm not dying in vain by devoting my life to you (PT)


To not let you grow would be the evil you assume of me daily/I push you away so that your tomorrow can be the birth of something great/my heart has become a tomb where you're encased & I'm incensed that you'd do me this way/hold me captive by your confessions of grandeur/death by devotion is never a vain act of glory/but I'm not entitled to your devotion/not deserving of your glory/I wish to give you freedom/I could promise you the world then hand you a globe made of plastic, so then how much would my promises matter/to love me is to forget you/so I option for the latter of the two/I need to forget you/cause you make loving you way too easy/& I've always been told that if it's too good to be true then...(Ph)


you dont turn away but pray for the courage to stay...I cant feed you the desire to allow the demo tape of love to play but I can refuse to move out your way making us a stagnanted momument of uncertainity...By deciding to refuse the opportunity with my love is the way you hurtin me but God breathed a little deeper breath when He formualted my flesh so I got thick skin...My freedom is in you--so I'll sit in the front seat on the bus of your heart like Parks and become the rebel with a cause who ignores your flaws like Newton but fact remains...Im not moving!!!...Implanted like roots...Read the palm of my soul and follow the route less traveled... (PT)


brilliant in theory/foolish in flesh/but in flesh I stand/hope resurrected/and so we're here/face to face heart to heart root to root/shift back so I can settle make room/but don't give me too much space & let me settle for nothing less than the entangling of our fingers the merging of our moons/the meshing of our color/and since God breathed a little deeper in you/let the tips of our fingers collide &, wait, see that!?? Now He's breathing for two/every beat runs from your heart through your feet right back to me/through my heart to my lips to your ear/catching Psalms on the wind whispering those vital words to convince your diaphragm to move/MOVE/breathe again/beat again/one more time so I can feel you again/and again/and...(Ph)


Im fasciated..fixated...bound by sounds of truth...Even if they place my heart in solitary confinement, I'll still institute a method to reach out to you..You reside in the belly of my devotion so Im holdin on to each breath you breathe...Your exhale is the inhale I need...I often sleep in fear, scared to roll over, dont want to look the glimpse of heaven wrapped in satin sheet with a head full of rollers...Pearl Harbor touch, you invade my turf to shatter my earth with explosions of forever...and all I can pray is that, we get it together...we find our scale of compromise that blends us together so you dont mind bending time with me...Allow my love to be your bravery...I've signed forms approving our storm so when I fall, DNR(Do Not Resusciate), do not save me! (PT)



Poetic Tone 2010

j.claude(C)2010 Phoenix

Shooting Stars 19/30

I keep two stars tucked in my back pocket for emergencies

Heart breaking like glass across the face of a fire exstinguisher case
I figured now was as good a time as any

Pulled one out
Scrawled your name across the points
and tossed it into the sky
Hoping that you'd look up
Wish me back home
Daddy I need you

But you've become so enamored in your delusion that when you look up
You don't see the sky no more

Aftershocks frm past bombs dropped above your head don't compare to the day
Your world rockd when
The pregnancy tests read positive
Coming into this world holdng a fistful of your insecurities
I was on my to remind you that miracles usually happen when you dnt realize you're in need

Your heart so hardened by the chemical hazards used to protect you
Turned two edged sword killing your
Mental picture of what we could be
Scraping away layers of my smile
And all you see is the magnifying of our negatives
No amount of red lights could prepare you for the parental processng
That did nothing to get rid of the
black still eroding my eyes
I cry
You see mortars
I start weeping
You see country borders

Blood runs down the fingers of a man
Long since incapable of scrawling his name in the sand
mastering the art of murder for hire
The one you should have aborted was
left alive to watch you decimate villages
Decimate my dreams
Knives ripping thru the throats of children
took away my ability to
mean wht I sing
Your bullets ripping through women
Pierced my heart in so many different places
Daddy how can I live my purpose
When you left me to bleed what I dream what I believe

You were tearng apart homes
Before I was propelled from your loins
All on a paycheck's order
I had a proud uncle sam
Before you even knew you had a daughter

Liscened to kill
you carried your auttomatic weapon like your Bible
Spit fire like scriptures into the domes of the ignorant
You were slipping into the fantasies of the fighting
While poison crept through your veins
Like thoughts of creation crept thru the mind of the almighty

7days birthed history
We call them Adam and Eve
Countless yrs birthed your misery
My momma named me Jennifer Denise
Steady stuck in your faded picture
helmet tilted rifle blazng
You were amazing Daddy
But you never came home

You traded your heart for a purple one
They pinned a piece of fabric to stone
And alone I've been every since

But I've got one star left to shoot to you
One last hope to fling across the sky
I scrawled out your name
Sealed it with a kiss
Daddy I'm praying
Maybe Just maybe this will be the night you finally look to the skys
open your eyes
and make a wish


j.claude(C)2011 Phoenix

A Sunday Kind of Love

I hate writing about love.

I hate writing about my desire for love, to be loved, to involve myself in a relationship with someone who will not only reciprocate, but become the catalyst for my love. I hate it because its one of the few things in life that one doesn't have complete control over. No matter how hard I study, or how well I budget & keep my credit straight, or how much I work out, or how diligently I do my kegal exercises all day every day, this doesn't mean I'm going to create my own ideal love. I can't purchase it, or draw it, or build it. I can only prepare myself for the possibility of the thing. I think this is where my personal dilemma rears its ugly head. I've never been a person to get my hopes up. And b/c of this, I tend to keep myself from situations that are going to burn me. I have a friend who calls me a pessimist, I call it logical. Its my defense. And the worst part is that the 5 times in my entire life I let those guards down my heart was shattered beyond my wildest dreams. I can give you dates & name, literally. I'll refrain, but just know that three time were involving parental units, once was with a man, & the other was with a best friend of 7yrs. Shattered. Whole world. Washed away...and so now, at this point in my life, I limit where I lay my feelings & who I expose my heart to. But I feel like its starting to ooze over...my desire to burn my black book & commit to someone is starting to envelop me.
I find myself praying that my future Husband manifests himself with the quickness. I need the inspiration to breathe...to BE. I'm waiting on him...The man that I can create love with over & over building upon our spiritual mental emotional and physical foundation. The man that I can write my music upon. The one I can build those dreams with & find myself in...

I want...a Sunday kind of love. No. Let me explain. I don't mean an "easy like Sunday morning" kind of a love. But a Sunday.. kind.. of.. love. Growing up, Sundays were the most hated, but most loved day of the week by me. I had to get up uber early, go to Sunday school, sing in the praise team, sing on the choir, go out or head home for a scrumptious eye drooping mouth watering meal, take a 40min teaser nap, go BACK to church, sing in the praise team, sing in the choir, sit thru another sermon then the prayer line then the fellowship after the service then the drive home, then go over my homework, take a shower, iron my clothes, grab my fave book, curl up in bed, & read until I passed out. I hated...& LOVED every minute of my grueling day. And that's the kind of love I want. The early mornings, late nights, stressful days, smiles over good meals, laughs over memorable moments, devotion laden, prayer filled, God following, hectic running around, curled up in bed perfectly content with my situation, ridiculosuly tired, but undeniably happy kind of love. I want that end of the weekend, beginning of the week kind of love...filled with enough lows to make me anticipate & thoroughly appreciate the highs...*shrugs*...and this is where my logic kicks in and tells me that this is entirely too much to ask.

So there you have it. I think I'm at Friday waiting & waiting...staring at the horizon hoping and praying that Sunday hurries up & gets here...

Yeah. I hate writing about love. But I sure need it to get here soon... *kanyeshrug*


j.claude(C)2010 Phoenix

Really, what happens when the rainbow is not enough!?

Every morning, I wake up & look around my room. I feel the stiffness in my neck & back & the pounding in my head that preoccupied my space when I laid down. I do not feel rested, and my stress is still sitting on top of my chest, holding me down & daring me to breathe deep with threat of crushing my heart forever. My past mistakes echo like heavy lead footsteps down barren halls snaking through cold decrepit homes. The walls always seem a little bit closer, the ceiling a little lower & the only safe place is in my bed. Between my sheets I have found a solace that words can not adequately convey. Tucked in between silk & cotton & a firm feathery mattress I found a support system that has managed to rival working out, hot greasy McDonald's french fries, iced tea on a hot summer's day, chocolate, & even sex (well, what I can remember, this celibacy has gone from a great idea into a long term memory problem...possibly dementia...I digress, different post for a different day)...

***PAUSE***

Ok, maybe not sex, but you get my point. I stumbled across something divine. But just like it's supportive, my bed has become enabling. It is a cruel catch-22. A certified mea culpa that I happily indulge(d) in with no immediate regrets. It seems like I have found myself...found myself wanting to haul myself out of my bed & toss my body off of a bridge. So I'm up now (curled up on the couch) wiping the long built up crust from my perverbial eyes &; I'm asking myself, "really, what happens when the rainbow isn't enough??".

Now don't get me wrong, I am no longer at the point where I want to literally end it all but I'm stuck between that gray area of Life & Death. I'm happily content, set on cruise in the "Existing" lane. I'm unhappy, slightly jaded, still hurting (over some BS mind you), and feeling like the biggest failure I know. When I was twenty, twenty five was the year of reaching my mountain top. Twenty five, has in fact, turned out to be my own personal seventh circle of hell. This year has been ridiculous, and was the follow up to year twenty four which was insane. I'm so happy to be nearing another birthday, but ONLY b/c I'm still alive. I think I'm scared that twenty six will be the "three's the charm" in a mix of events in my life that, albeit character building, have been...well...hard. I can't find another word to sum it up more completely. I'm not complaining, I'm just looking for a reason. A reason to move over to another lane & start driving and living my life again. And this rainbow everyone's chasing certainly hasn't been enough for me.

After talking to a sister of mine from church, she helped me understand two things. 1.) We've ALL been there!! Apparently I'm not alone in the "I feel like a lunatic & wanna DIE" club. But its about how I nurture the seeds in my life. If I cultivate the negativity, it will grow. As on Earth, as is in Heaven...you know how the sayings go...& its the truth. & 2.) Things get better. *sigh* I want to believe her so bad. She's 33, in a wildly budding & prosperous career, newly married to a beautiful man who truly supports her dreams & strengths & is there through the storms & her fears. When we speak, I am always encouraged, but then the logical me creeps up & smacks the positivity from my hand & again I'm left holding nothing.

So...I'm concluding a few things...I'm my worst enemy, I don't support myself enough, & the fact tht I wake up in the mornings should be reason enough...I'm looking for a reason that is already w/in my grasp but seems SO much farther away...so I'm making changes. Slowly. First change?? I'm taking time to really breathe again.

I can't believe it, but I'm actually looking forward to rolling out of bed, opening my blinds & taking a few moments to watch the sun rise again. And although my bed is still my most secure form of support, I think that, with a little practice, my attachment will become less compulsory. Or maybe not. But hey, I still have the the sun rises for now & that's progress (& we take progress where we can get it!!!)

So...really, what's our fate?? What happens to us colored girls when the rainbow is not enough?? Welp, I'm almost positive, convinced even, that the rainbow will NEVER be enough!! Look, I don't have all the answers (uhhhm, obviously) But I truly belive that if we put God first & then find the fervor for our life, our passion, & the one's in our life that we love than that will put us on the path to our purpose...& we'll get there, wherever "there" may be.
Yup. One foot in front of the other.
One sunrise one laugh one smile one hug one step at a time...



j. claude(C)2010 Phoenix

Living life & finding balance**

For all intensive purposes, energy starts out in a neutral state & dependng upon wht it comes in contact with, it becomes one of two thngs...(+) or (-)...yes, it can be disparaged, BUT there are no gray areas...it eithr is or it ain't *LESSON* I cnt deny its presence, but I CAN alter its charge ovr my life...#wisdom

The above is a status* I posted on FB today. Its pretty self explanatory, but for all of my non science heads out there, let me give you a rough breakdown of it...then I'm going to relate it to present day, real life foolywang.

On batteries you see positive and neutral signs and you always hear about positive & neutral energy. Well in science, ALL energy starts out neutral. Energy becomes positive or negative depending upon electrons & neutrons that are being added & taken away. Please don't blow a head gasket on me people, I'm done w/the HS bio presentation. I said all of that to relate this to the positive and negative energy flowing in and out of our lives.

I've always been a fan of sappy cliches (i.e. "Lemons to lemonade", joy comes in the morning", "darkest before the dawn" etc)...& being that is it may, I've written my own. One in particular I wrote in my affirmation. "Take those rocks life is tossing at your head, & start building your foundation"...that's right. I'm saying, when you get thumped upside the dome w/situation after situation, stop sitting amongst the rubble & ruins of your life. Use it to your advantage. And speaking of which, back to energy...

Experiences in our lives are clothed in energy. Every single one of them. Some positive & some negative...but the beauty about energy, much like the beauty of rocks thrown in our direction, is that no matter how it comes at you, you have the option of how you will utilize it. If something negative is happening in your life, change your perspective, move seats, put on your perverbial 3-D life glasses & take another look at things. What can you do to NOT waste that negative energy?? What can you do to apply a bit of positive energy to the situation so that the whole thing can shift for your good?? If any of you know me personally, you know that I've picked up my Bible & I am preaching to MYSELF...

I'm learning to take the rocks, and build a solid foundation (rooted in my walk with Christ & buildng my faith). I'm rerouting negative energy in my life to power the creative muse w/in myself...Urging along my dreams & having that Queen Esther kind of faith. <<---Everything I need, God placed w/in me. This means, no external source should be a means of validation, love, hope, peace, joy etc. External sources that bring along those things in tow is always an added bonus...but that's all it is..its NOT a vital piece of thread holding together my life. Lastly, & most importantly, I am NOT my current situation in life. I think this is where a lot of us ("us" being young mid-twenties in the midst of our budding career or in the crux of our continuing education plans) seem to despair & lose hope. Growing up as competitve youth, many of us don't know how to handle the pitfalls of life. We are used to making a plan & getting to our destination free of roadblocks. We believe that if we are determined & disciplined, we will avoid traps & unnecessary failure. And this is true...but even tho you know with a certainty that the sun will rise & set, you can't say for certain where rain will & won't fall from one day to the next. Its cold one day, hot the next..you get the picture...


Soooo...energy...rocks...lemonade...sunshine...rain...blah blah blah...it all boils down to this, life is gonna happen...so its up to us to find some anchor & get some balance...

I promise, its a LOT harder than it sounds, but its so worth it...


(C)j.claude2010


*the term is "intents & purposes". I apologize for my status faux pas ::blushes::

**This particular blog is dedicated to one of my best home girls, Miss Black NC herself, RaSheeda A. Waddell.

Legendary 18/30

You know...
there are tales of a place where passion grows
It is surrounded by concrete & stone
and its told that travelers of old trapped their lustful moans inside these walls to preserve our way of life during emergencies...
times of duress...
but there's only one path..
guarded by a gate keeper
& they call her Ecstasy
She pledges allegiance to no one but herself
Her twin sisters Amora & Demona are equally as self serving
They are all stunning, conniving, vicious beauties
Do you hear me?
The Devil will play the role of Love who will play the role Ecstacy w/o a second thought
But...so goes life...
and so if you get there at the right time, you'll find the sister that has the key

Ecstasy

they say her eyes are mirrors
so one should not glance long
unless they are comfortable being seen
I mean really seen
And for the right price she will guide you through the darkness...
hips swaying like fruit frm trees
her breathng reminiscent of lilts on a morning breeze
and as the path narrows
its easy to see how passion could grow frm concrete
light escapng frm fissures in the ground bouncing off the ceilng like music notes in no particular order...
Like ivy running up walls
there are slash marks being worn like badges of honor upon these stones...
hurt...
despair...
betrayel...
this is a fountain of life housed in a tomb of death...
but passion, passion grows here
It grows unequivocally & w/o explanation
it rises up under extreme difficult heart wrenching circumstances
this is the one place where man can view God & not be killed frm exposure to the light
the one place to commune w/His energy...to dominate ever present fears & to really be seen
staring into the mirrored eyes of the gatekeepr while she waits..
patiently..ready to show you back to your starting point
but quietly checking for your signal so as not to disturb your meetng w/your destiny
& those who know, know...that until you find that place
the tomb built of stone & concrete, tht place where passion grows
then you'll never understand the interactions & relationships of mankind

& a woman, you will nevr truly know...



(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Hmmm...

I know I owe everyone about 13 more poems to complete my "30 in 30"...I have been so busy and distracted lately...but I'm going to get it done for the simple fact that I need to complete the tasks I start

Meanwhile, just showing some love to my blog...plenty of insightful things to say, and nothing to say *Le Sigh* o_O It has been one of those crazy emotional past couple of weeks...months... =/

Going to bed now...will reconvene in the morning.




Fairy tales are for the faint of heart, & everyone has to lose sometimes... -Phoenix

Off Kilter 17/30

I like to think that I’m doing something worthwhile
That my orated thoughts are catalysts of sorts…
But I remember that nothing new has ever been done
And I know it’s wrong but sometimes I get moody
And I can’t find the point
And I can’t find a reason
And I want to quit life altogether

And I tend to sit
I just sit and stare at my pen in disgust
As I drift through colorful menageries
Longing for straight laced revelations amongst these wrinkles in time
Losing complete sense of value of my words
Thusly losing sight of the value of my worth

So I stop
Stop spinning in circles losing my way
And I find resolution in
Closing my eyes
Freeing my mind
Touching fingertip to tip
Thumbs to bottom lip
Index fingers pressed into the bridge of my nose
Doing the only thing I know to do
Pray…until I find my balance again


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Honey Bunches of Oats 16/30

Big bowls of cereal captured his heart every single morning

Like clockwork

[tick] went the bowl on the table
[tock] went the spoon against the ceramic
[tick] went the rumbling and bangs from upstairs
[tock] went the slam of the door
[tick] went the beat of his heart
[tock] always managing to recover from it’s falter
Looking up into the face of his beautiful Mother
He’d always notice her complexion around one eye seemed different than the other
But she hushed his comments and admonished him to eat
And so he’d eat
And he’d offer her big soggy spoonfuls from the bottom of his big cereal bowl
Two percent milk dripped from the bottom of his nutmeg colored lips
That wrapped his hundred watt smile
And his Mother would never ever resist
And she would consume his offering
And pray that like her Sunday morning ten percents
This bottom of the bowl sacrifice would supply her with just enough faith
To make it to the next breakfast
And it never ceased to amaze him how his cereal
Could make her cry and laugh in the same breath
And she’d whisper her thank you’s
With her lips painted on to his ear
Then send him off to school

Moment after moment after day after day after year after year

Until he blinked
And the footprints of his Mother had been replaced by his own beautiful wife
And so he would offer her big soggy spoonfuls from the bottom of his big cereal bowl
Two percent milk dripping from the bottom of his nutmeg colored lips
That wrapped his hundred watt smile
And his Wife, much like his Mother, would never ever resist
But the bliss turned a bit distressing when he noticed that
Around her eyes were the same complexion

And so he decided to fix it
Bludgeoned her eye with the force of a typhoon
That forever left her mentally lost at sea & permanently scarred
And he never forgave himself and so he took his regret and stress out on her
Time and again
Like clockwork
[tick] went the glass of the window
[tock] tock went her head against the frame
[tick] went his heart when she’d stop breathing
[tock] though she faltered she never quit living

And every day he’d weep
Plead for her forgiveness
He’d mumble incoherent thoughts concerning his sorrow
But she hushed his comments
Accepted his forgiveness
And admonished him to eat
And so he’d eat
And he’d offer her big soggy spoonfuls from the bottom of his big cereal bowl
Two percent milk dripping from the bottom of his nutmeg colored lips
That wrapped his hundred watt smile

And he finally understood how one could cry and laugh in the same breath
And his Wife would never ever resist
And she would consume his offering
And pray that like her Sunday morning ten percents
This bottom of the bowl sacrifice would supply her with just enough faith
To make it to the next breakfast

(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Misdiagnosis 15/30

I embraced the butterflies that set up residence in my stomach on the eve of our first kiss
That is, until I became an activist
Now the whole world thinks I'm sick
Recklessly bingeing on the idea of you & purging our memories
But that ain’t it
I ain’t sick
I just stuck my finger down my throat to set them free

Let them shake from their wings the residue of putrid spoiled love
Long processed but never digested
Just settling in the pit of my gut
Rising around the butterflies’ feet
Sloshing around the edges of their wings
And as they pushed their feathery extensions toward Heaven praying for release
I assumed that the feelings I felt were of joy & contentment
But the butterflies were no longer content and that meant no relief for me
And with their lives in the balance they warranted their right, their need to be free
And so now you see how it had nothing to do with him
But it had everything to do with the activist in me

So, as not to seem a hypocrite, I did the only decent thing
And though to the outside world it may have looked like I was
Recklessly binging on the idea of you and purging our memories
That was never the case
I simply stuck my finger down my throat
Cause that was the only way to set them free
Plus, the way I figure
The butterflies shouldn’t have to pay for my bad choices in consumption…


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

When keeping it real goes wrong (Haiku for you) 14/30

Running with scissors/is bad for your health. ::as I/hide the wet floor sign:: ;o)

(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

That was easy enough 13/30

I used to scream and curse the day you were born
because not only did you crack my heart
and steal my ribs so I’d lose the ability to stand upright w/o you
and cut me down at the knees
and then merged your lies with the salve meant to heal me
and then prayed for my healing
and then preyed on my healing
and then pirated my dreams
and then left me for dead
but you successfully managed to taint the Moon
and the Sun too, but secretly the Moon is my favorite

so you see how my indignation reaches new levels at night
when I lay in the breeze and stare at the Moon…
just all kinds of tainted and nasty
you turned it green and dimmed it just a little bit
and it becomes hard for me to view it in it’s complete splendor
without furrowing my brows
and crooking my mouth
and gagging just a little bit
and I blamed you for years

that is until the day I took the initiative & wiped the crusted residue of us from my mind
then from my lips
my hips
my fingertips
and, finally, from my eyes…
blinked a few times & realized
it was never the Moon that was tainted
I just had to get rid of all that debris so I could see clearly

(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

What lies beneath 12/30

She went in for a D & C
But the indecency of the entire matter left her feeling hollow
and rightly so
While laid out across that table all alone like a ram for the taking
Swaddled in a pure cotton fabric sheath
Hem swaying in the sterile breeze circulating through the ventilation system
Hopping skipping and jumping across the dew drops of the
Remaining bits of the fabric of her life that had been left on the table

bit by bit she swallowed the regurgitated mass of bitter words
she’d been force to consume
“ain’t no child of mine havin’ no baby round here, makin’ me look bad”
Bitter acidic words
Tainted
Remnants of altered egos
Indignation
That haughty Church Mother pride
& spiked with tiny shards of hate

But she swallowed them
And soon chased them down with the bitter liquid that would expel from her
the pox that she had brought upon her family’s name and upon their house
handed to her in a goblet, fixed by her own Mother, she drank in remembrance of…
of her hopes that finally she’d have something to call her own
to love her
but at the bottom of the glass there were no memories
only echoes of her ineptitude
grievous miserable child
scorned by the ones she resembled most
ever present by her side
in that cool sterile office all alone
No one to assist with the gift that Miseducation had given her
Even after her shame was covered
The residue of ignorance lay dormant in her womb and gave way to infection
So they scraped her womb
Searching for abnormalities
Searching for a truth

But miseducation led to a misdiagnosis
And the prognosis began a pattern from then on
Her womb healed for awhile
But continued to become infected
Every single time she got pregnant
She was forced to swallow more bitter words
Chased by those bitter home made remedies
Specially purposed to placate…I mean, cure misbeheavin’ children of their sin
But she never told her doctors
Never shared with them her gifts from Miseducation

And so they routinely searched
But to no avail
And it’s no surprise really…

Though infections continuously made haste to settle in her womb
They were problems stemming from products of Ignorance taking shelter in her mind…


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Mic Frauds (Haiku for you) 11/30

Fresh, from mind to pad./Say it with your actions/your words have grown stale...

(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Truth of the matter is...(Haiku for you) 10/30

anything you can/ do i can do better. I/ just feign dumb for fun!! ;o)




(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-

Perpetuation 9/30

They tied her down
fertilized her
pointed her in the general direction of the Sun’s arrival during his visits
and cut her

they cut her first at the limbs and said grow
and so like any good student, she grew
followed the instructions of the blind who were leading her
pushed her roots deep into the filth and dirt that was contaminating her fruit
and grew

sipped at the edge of the rivers that were feeding her so much poison
that her green leaves were stained with blue
and not like that blue in the sky
but that black blood blue
that sojourner tubman douglas blue
that star in the sky leading us back home blue
and she grew

and grew

and grew

‘til they chopped her down at the roots
and her fruit toppled to the Earth
smashing and cracking on the rocks
all that infected juice
spilling
penetrating
nourishing the ground around her

listened while the others, tied down, mourned her loss,
listened to them quickly begin the songs of Zion
in thanks for her gracious support of their life
and she smiled, then thought twice
once to warn them not to partake of the plenty
twice to smooth over that twinge of hate that crept up from her hardened core
so she did the only decent thing to do

she took her final breaths and accepted her forced rest
laid out amongst scattered tainted leaves
making a swift escape thru death’s door
leaving in her wake, a cycle perpetuated


(c)j.claude'10-Phoenix-