Saturday, January 18, 2014

"Product Pitch"

I think they should wring me out
And sell me in a store.

I like Bed, Bath, and Beyond,
So we can go with that.
I’m pretty sure I’d be THE top selling product!

Put me on the top shelf,
‘Cuz I’m the best quality you can get.
What exactly am I?
I am the hope of the slaves,

The faith of the abolitionists,
The resilience of the civil rights activists:
I am Black excellence.
I’m not a hair color, type, or grade;
I’m not a specific color nor creed;

But I AM excellent.
I was created to succeed.
I was created to empower.
I was created to persevere.
And yet, they haven’t captured this essence

In a bottle to sell to the masses!
Why not? I’m asking that, too!
It’s needed, because if not there
Would be no need for tanning beds.

Would there be? Answer me, pale woman!
Oh PLEASE answer me, Mr. Olympia!
Because you slather yourselves in

A brown, shiny substance to make your better-than-average
Bodies look even better on a stage.

Sounds familiar, no?
Man, put me on the shelf, Mr. Marketing Manager!

Your skin is a little pale, too.
Let me slather you like you did great-great granddaddy.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

"Kinetic Combustion"

Two paths:
Seemingly divergent, slightly parallel,
But not juxtaposed to the destination
Of either.
Until a hurricane of Kids
Blew their autumnal leaves and
United their paths as one.
Who shall lead?
Or will this new trace be inundated
With the footprints of them both?
It is glorious in nature,
Strong as the trees that canopy
The canvas of the forest of Ecstasy.
The master artist paints a new song,
A new vision, that neither path fathomed
Could be so magical alone.
But together:
The horizon that beams from the sun's rays
Of comfort through the shade of the naysayer's trees
Is now a sigh that, together, is a new beginning.
A syncretic transparency.


Sunday, December 22, 2013

"Caught in the Act"

Tyrone James: NY Attorney, cheating husband
Brittany Noble-James: NY DA, Tyrone’s unsuspecting wife
Briana Noble: Model, Brittany’s identical twin sister; Tyrone’s mistress

(Tyrone and Brittany are in a happy, committed marriage of 6 years.  College sweethearts, they married soon after graduation and are seemingly the “perfect couple.”  Living in a loft on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, Brittany is a practicing District Attorney and Tyrone is a partner at Logan, James, and Clark, a well-established trial law firm in New York City.)

(Briana, Brittany’s identical twin sister and model, has been friends with Tyrone since all 3 were in college together in Atlanta.  [Tyrone attended Morehouse College and the twins attended Spelman College, both Historically Black Colleges for men and women, respectively.]  She has always secretly coveted Tyrone and has often stated that she couldn’t wait to find a man as good as him for herself.  For the past 6 months, her and Tyrone have been involved in an extra-marital affair after the happily married couple had a series of disagreements about children: Tyrone wanted them and Brittany didn’t, claiming that she is in the prime of her career and children would spread her too thin, subjecting her to a slower rate of promotion within the attorney’s office.  During the spat, Tyrone confided in Briana and her empathetic lust led to the beginning of a hot and steamy affair.)

(On a typical Thursday afternoon, Brittany is off at work; Tyrone is enjoying a rare day away from the firm.  Having Brittany’s schedule timing down to a science, Tyrone is awaiting a call from Briana that she is on her way for a midday rendezvous.  When she finally arrives, her and Tyrone waste no time in engaging in their typical sexual fantasies and escapades.  First, they begin kissing and fondling against the wall, then removal of clothes, and finally ending at the bed.  In the heat of the moment, the phone rings…)

Tyrone: (breathing heavily) Hold on baby, let me see who this is.
Briana: (straddling Tyrone and kissing his neck between every word) Do you have to? I was just about to make you moan my name!
Tyrone: Oh yea? (Contemplating) Mmmm…No. I need to see who it is.
(Briana, disappointed, gives in and climbs off of Tyrone, freeing him to run towards his phone.  He gets to there to a phone call from his wife Brittany.  He answers the phone excitedly as to not seem caught.)
Tyrone: Baby! What’s going on?
(Muted convo from Brittany on the phone)
Tyrone: Aww baby, I’m having a great day. Just relaxing, watching some TV and exercising in between.  Just trying to unwind before the company dinner tonight.  You’re still joining me, right?
(Muted convo from Brittany on the phone)
Tyrone: (Slightly rushing Brittany off of the phone) Ok. Well have a great lunch; I’ll pick up your dress from the cleaners.  See you later baby. Love you! (Hangs up)
Briana: What did she want?
Tyrone: Nothing… (In a “sexy” and playful voice) now back to you..
(Re-engaging in their sexual activities, things begin to get hot and heavy.  In the James’ bed, Tyrone penetrates Briana’s womanhood.  Moans and sexual coos ring in the spacious loft.  After a brief stint of intercourse, the two decide to take a break.)
Tyrone: Damn baby, you rode me a little wilder than you usually do.  What’s gotten into you today?
Briana: I don’t know, I guess you’ve just turned me on like never before! (Kisses Tyrone on the lips and climbs off from on top of him.  She lies down in the bed.  He walks into the bathroom to wash off.)
Tyrone: (From the bathroom) I’m gon’ go down stairs and get something to drink; you want something? 
Briana: No, just go naked. (He leans around the corner and looks at her; she smiles and winks at him)
Tyrone: (Smiling at her) You’re nasty.  I’ll be back after I replenish myself!
(Tyrone leaves the bathroom heads downstairs naked.  He reaches the kitchen, looks in the refrigerator, and pours a glass of apple juice.  After a few gulps, the loft door opens.  Brittany comes in talking.)
Brittany: (Closing the loft door with her back towards Tyrone) The group decided to split ways for lunch; I decided to run home and see.. (Discovering a naked Tyrone in the kitchen) Babe: why are you naked and drinking apple juice??
Tyrone: (shocked) Baby?! What are u doing here?
Brittany: So is this what you do when I’m not home? Exercise in the nude? (Walking seductively towards him)
Tyrone: Well…I was trying something new. (Nervous chuckle)
Brittany: (Sexually) Well maybe I should visit you on your days off for lunch more often. (Walks up and kisses Tyrone passionately. He resists.)
Tyrone: Not now baby. I’m…tired.
Brittany: Tired? (Seductively tugging on him) Oh I can help with that!
Tyrone: (Resisting again) No baby; I just don’t feel like it. (Looks around nervously)
Brittany: Tyrone, what’s going on? I FINALLY want to spice up this relationship and you’re saying no?? What’s goin on? (Sarcastically) You cheating on me?
Tyrone: (Twitching nervously and with a trembling voice) Cheating? Naw baby….naw, I’m…naw baby!
Brittany: Ok. Well give me some sugar!
(In an effort not to upset Brittany, Tyrone reluctantly gives in and kisses her passionately.  Meanwhile, Briana is wondering why it’s taking Tyrone so long to come back upstairs and heads down stairs.)
Briana: (Walking down the stairs) Tyrone, baby. What’s taking so long? Tyrone? TYRO..(She sees Tyrone and Brittany kissing.)
(Brittany and Tyrone stop kissing)
Brittany: (Screaming) BRIANA?? TYRONE?? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON???
Briana: (Hurriedly and scarily moving towards the loft door) Brittany! I’m so sorry!!!! You weren’t supposed to find out like this! (Runs towards the loft door, opens it, and bursts outside.)
(Brittany takes off her shoes and runs after Briana.  Before she runs outside after her sister, she turns around towards Tyrone, scowling with tears in her eyes.)
Brittany: (In a slightly demonic tone) You would leave if you know what’s good for you! (Heads outside to find Briana and slams door shut, knocking a picture of her and Tyrone off of the wall and shattering on the floor next to the loft door.)


"The Day Loyalty Died"

So I sat and thought I’d write today.
What about? I was at a crossroads.
Thought it would be an intricate
Pattern of woven jargon about
Some philosophical view of some
Simple feelings; But, no.
I put pen to paper and decided to let my
Emotions flow from my capillaries
Through my pen’s vein.

My mind is so clouded.
Overcast with thoughts of a
Thunderstorm that’s approaching.
Thunder that claps to deafness,
Lightening that blinds to the
Point that I can’t see
What I can see.
Why does it hurt so bad?
Why do I feel so sad?
I’m not sad for me, but for
You not realizing that
You would need me before I need

Sure enough, the message came
Across my network.  Should I ignore
And fight your match with my flamethrower?
No. I’m bigger than that,
But just know, I know.
And I shall never forget.
The day loyalty died.


Thursday, December 20, 2012


Leaves falling around
Making it look like winter
But summer is here.


"In All of the World"

“Bands ah make ha dance?”
Sounds good, but does it REALLY sound good?
Laid off for a year,
Catalyst for “changing the game.”
What you don’t understand is:
We ARE the game.
Underneath your superficial school pride
Lie feelings of “DAMN! How do they do it?”
It’s not magic; it’s hard work.
It’s TRUE pride.

The Maestro was a mastermind;
Engineering a well-oiled machine that
Stands the test of time.
And it has. It will.
Through naysayers, haters, whatever names you may call
Those who never have anything good to say,
It’s glitz, glamour, fortitude;
Most of all it’s an experience.
The sound… of experience.
The difference is as clear as the
Lakes of the Nordic fjords.

While you continue to forge a path,
You’ve forgotten about that 66-mile trench
That has been there. And getting longer.
Deeper that the hum of your basses.
The tone as pure as your cleanest piccolo.
THAT trench, dug by thousands of bandsmen
Who wanted nothing more than to give you a show.
An experience.
So go on and bump your gums,
‘Cuz the band has made ‘em dance’
Is making ‘em dance; will make ‘em dance.

Just remember your first time hearing
It was… an experience.  THE experience.
You haven’t forgotten it; you can’t forget it.
And you anticipate when again you are acquainted.



Sitting in the comfort of my car's warm embrace,
Wanting not to meet Winter's bitter handshake
And Rain's uninviting visage.
Beyond the balance of my stairwell
Lies a sea of exponential ecstasy;
The place where fatigue meets relief
And for one moment the World is but
A mere afterthought.
Dare I wrestle with the cunning and muscular strength
Of Mother Nature's bleak persona?
What lies ahead
Is the personification of a perfectly watered cloud,
An embrace to make envy
The omnipotent one's loving-kindness.
That is to say,
I love my bed.