R.I.P. Michael Brown

I'm writing tonight with such a heavy heart.



This evening, while at work, a friend texted me asking me if I was okay, and telling me about a shooting in Ferguson, MO ... a suburb of St. Louis. I quickly did a search to find out what happened, and my heart sank.

This afternoon, 17 year-old Mike Brown was gunned down by police. He was unarmed. According to reports, he was shot once, surrendered with his hands up, and was shot again. Head ... chest.  Afterwards, his body would lay in the streets for four more hours before being removed, two of those hours uncovered. His grandmother had seen him minutes before walking down the street toward their home as she drove by. When she arrived at home, she heard a commotion outside. When she went to see what was going on, she saw her grandson laying dead, body riddled with bullets.

Jesus help us.

Being frank, we live in a day and age where it seems the police are just as much a danger to black people as other potential criminals. It certainly doesn't seem like we receive the same amount of protection as others ethnic groups. It happens over and over, that people who's faces look like mine are in the media after being gunned down unnecessarily by the police. And then people wonder why the relationship between blacks and the police is so contentious.



If you're not black and reading this, I ask you, do you get nervous in the presence of police? If so, why?

The reason blacks are uneasy in the presence of police is because we feel like our lives are in danger. Blacks are conditioned to fear for our lives around police due to previous experience, stories, media, and upbringing. We are taught during our upbringing how to protect ourselves not only from potential assailants, but from police. "If you're pulled over, keep your hands on the steering wheel. Don't move. Don't reach for anything. Stare straight ahead." Those are things I was taught by my mother. Where is the justice in that?

At this point, what do we do? How do you fight against the people who are supposed to protect you? Where do we even begin? Once again, another of our black sons has been gunned down in the streets by law enforcement.

Weird...doesn't seem like they're enforcing law. It seems like they're merely enforcing their will.

I know this is short, but ... I'm hurting y'all. And at a loss.

God Bless.

When Will Black Men Stand Up For Our Black Women?

(This was originally a conversation on my twitter page. See here for a link to the posts.)

So...I have a blog in my heart I need to get out. The topic is how we as black men support our black women.

So when it comes to standing up for/beside/behind black men, women step up to the plate every time.Black men? We don't. And that makes me ashamed man. Why can't we be better about that? We have to be. 

Frankly, as black men we all should be ashamed at the collective effort to support our black women.You know how rough they have it? They are black AND women. Double whammy. Twitter is a perfect microcosm of what goes on in the real world. Black men stand by while our black women are drug through the mud. And I know this is a highly debated topic, but patriarchy is a big cause if this.

We've got to be better, myself included. It starts with standing up for our black women against other black men. So many black men are conditioned to mistreat black women to the point they are conditioned to accept it. Sad state of affairs.

It's...depressing.

Yet our black women are there right behind us...supporting us nonetheless. Take care of home. Black women are home. And we are leaving that house to fend for itself. I've spent so much time looking and analyzing...shaking my head and observing. I've pushed and supported the black women in MY life. I can and should be doing more.

Black women are out here putting their neck on the line in support of us. We may not be the ones cutting them off, but we damn sure sharpen the tool. And who is holding black men accountable? No one. When we should be self-policing. We outchea just standing by. When has that ever created change?!

Just...be better. And encourage other black women around you to be better. If enough of us start supporting our black women, standing up for our black women, it'll become contagious. There are not enough black men out here standing up. Black women do it all the time and it seems to fall on deaf ears. Maybe if more black men talk about it the message will come across.

As always...black women, you all are so damn wonderful. Know that.

Y'all be easy.

Symphony #844

My body duets to yours, whispering from behind...

"I got you. Let me take you for this ride..."

as I pleasure what's mine. 

Pleasing you is what I crave. 

Your body convex, mine concave. 

Your hands reaching for nothing...

and everything with each heavy breath

Like a conductor guiding music. 

Your moans sing to me sweet simple lyrics....

"Yes..."

"Right there baby..."

"Shit..."

"I missed this..."

While my strokes sing along.

Your thighs join in on the chorus...

singing in a violent vibrato

As I conduct our orgasmic symphony. 

Sighs like the string section...

My strokes hitting hard like timpanis...

How did we get here? Your body called me to hear it's concerto. 

Moans on a rhythmic crescendo...

Falsettos in accelerando. 

A cappellas and accentato...

You'd rather go adagietto but baby this is my stroke show.

Strumming like a cello, rub it real slow

Strum the right notes leave your thighs like jello...

You say, "If you need an instrument you can play me"

I'll play you baby...making sure to get the right notes fingered carefully...

As our bodies create an orgasmic...

Symphony 844.

(With contributions from @NakedDiary and @BeutfulStranger)

New Beginnings...

We always joke that life comes at you fast, and as I have traversed through my twenties, I've realized just how true that is. As I approach my 30th birthday, I've been trying to make some major changes in my life. I'm all about new beginnings this year.

A big part of that new beginning, as some of you have already seen, was cutting my hair. Last night, I cut my 99 locs off. It was ... hard. Harder than I thought it'd be. It's always said, "I am not my hair," but when it comes down to it, your hair is indeed a part of you. It's part of your identity, your image, and how people remember you. 

I had been growing my hair for almost five years. I started in the fall of 2009, and locing my hair since Spring of 2010. Four years. It was definitely a journey. For anyone who has loc'd their hair, you develop a relationship with them. They get on your nerves, don't always act right, but you love them nonetheless. It takes so much patience and love to cultivate healthy and beautiful locs. And this was my second relationship with them.

For those that know me personally and follow me on Twitter, I've been thinking about cutting my hair for months now. I finally decided that it was time. I've always heard that hair holds energy, both positive and negatively. I firmly believe that. And it's interesting because since I cut them last night, I feel lighter. Lighter both literally and figuratively. It's...interesting. I feel relieved. New. Good. 

So this is me, anew. Big ass head and all. Ready for new beginnings. A fresh start. And I'm SO looking forward to it! 

30? I'll see you September 29, and we're gonna make it a good one. 

Be easy.

The Last Fall

The road to genuine interest, to infatuation, to general feelings, to "what is this now" is really tricky. We try to examine every little thing that doesn't happen, and forget to look up and enjoy the limitless possibilities in front of us. We're scared to make the last minute mistake again, we don't want to be wrong anymore, but the fear and doubts cloud our vision. We care more about getting it right than we do each other ... we'd rather fight to prove our point than work together towards a solution. 

We fear the journey happiness requires.

- Rob Hill, Sr.

We spend so much time learning how to avoid getting hurt, but no one ever teaches us how to recover from hurt. Everyone's hurt stems from somewhere. For instance, mine stems from abandonment, I'll go into that a little further later. Some of us learn how to fully process that hurt and pain and past relationship experiences, and let it go. Some learn how to begin to process it, but in some ways still hold on to past hurt and experiences. Some just sweep them under the rug and never deal, then wonder why they have the same reoccurring issues.

Here's the thing. Too many of us are out here trying so hard not to end up with messed up folks in relationships. At a certain point, we become so focused on: 1. Not messing up, but 2. Finding what's not perfect about the other party. We've become so conditioned to trying to find out why a person isn't for you, that we ignore so many reasons as to why they are.

Due to past relationships, familial and non, I always fear people just up and leaving. It doesn't make me clingy, at least I don't think. But it does strike fear in my heart at the first sign of someone distancing their self, because those signs remind me of what I've already been through several times. It's rough. As soon as your pattern of behavior gives me doubts about the future of your presence, I instantly go into defense mode.

Like Phonte once said, "It's hard, but it's real."

I think what it comes down to is no one ever learns about forgiving yourself. Parents teach about forgiving others all the time, but man, forgiving yourself is so important. Forgiving yourself is one of the most integral parts of moving on from hurt and bad experiences. One of the things that bothers us most when we are coming out of a bad situation is that we allowed ourselves to be there in the first place. In hindsight, we know that we deserve better than what we allowed for ourselves.

As I was stating above, everyone's fear when it comes to vulnerability and relationships stems from somewhere. For some it comes from loyalty (or disloyalty), lack of self-esteem, dealing with people who have narcissistic personality disorder, etc. As I said, personally my issues stem from abandonment. Would I say I have abandonment issues? No. But do I have a fear that stems from past "abandonments?" Sure.

I've had prior relationships that were very serious in nature, where for some reason or another, the person decided they didn't want to be a part of my life anymore, and left. Just like that. So it's hard to balance between what is a red flag and what I'm simply overthinking. When you've had past dealings that ended badly, in the future, anything that resembles that occurrence gives you pause. After awhile, you start to feel dumb for even entertaining giving someone the benefit of the doubt. So where does the discernment lie?

How do you decide what should be a red flag, and what is just a random occurrence? Everyone always tells me trust my intuition, but where has that gotten me? To this point. So with each occurrence, MORE alarms me. I'm trying to figure what should and shouldn't. And I try, Lord I try not to project my past onto my present or potential future. But sometimes ... man. There's a certain magic in the strength it takes to exhibit consistent vulnerability.

What gets hard to remember, is that we are all human, and we mess up. Just because we mess up doesn't mean the past is repeating itself. Holding onto that thought is what helps me to keep giving people the benefit of the doubt.

When it comes down to it, I just want my next one to be my best one. I'm tired of getting it wrong with the wrong people. Someone who I don't feel those fears with because we've allowed each other to know each other intimately, and to feel secure in the fact that the past won't repeat itself. Again.

Y'all be easy.

We Were Broken

See ... we were broken. 

No matter how we tried, we

couldn't be repaired. 

15 Texts I Never Sent...

(I can't claim this one. It was from a post I saw on Tumblr)

It's been 15 months and I still miss you like a limb.

I didn't know my bones could ache until I met you.

You know, a week before we broke up, do you remember?
I bought a book a poetry and you asked why I didn't read something more interesting.
I could feel my inside splinter.

You said poetry was all lies dressed up to sound pretty.
When I look at you these days, I want to ask if sadness sounds pretty to you.

It's 3AM and this alcohol tastes like you.

I saw you staring at me in the store today. I smiled and you didn't smile back.
I almost cried.

The girl who sits next to me in class smells like you.

I miss you.

I've never had so many bad nights.

Sometimes I write poetry about you on the internet.
Strangers who have never met either of us think you're cruel...
...they tell me if they ever had the honor of loving me
they'd never give upon me and you're insane
for walking away.

They think it is beautiful how I am broken.
I don't think they understand.

You used to tell me I was beautiful.
I tried saying it in the mirror the other day,
but it sounded wrong without your mouth wrapped around it.

Everything I say sounds wrong without your mouth wrapped around it.

We didn't last forever, but oh God, we could have.
We could have...