Sensitive Men
What makes me so special? That’s what I wish my father told me. And he might have, but he wasn’t around to hold me to it.
Now I bore my kids with discipline and praise. But I catch all the feelings. Sometimes I drop the positivity, because reality shows the truth clear.
After I grew, created a family and learned forgiveness. I understood abandonment and it stopped being a trigger that made me want to hurt a ni-ahh, I abandoned that path.
Unless love and appreciation are not given, then my anger bubbles like an upset stomach. And everybody gets a taste of it.
DEAR DIARY
This fucker ain’t listening to me.
Don’t even care if she fucks me. I just want her to want me.
Started as a normal day. We held hands all the way home. We were gonna do it, but you said your” clock set off an alarm.”
You said you “were tired and needed to lay down”. You gave no clue it would be with a guy who could drive you around.
You had me running up my phone bill trying to re-connect. You said... I don’t even know-I can't even remember all the bullshit. Something sweet to hide the stench.
Damn... Girls have the best friends. Even the halfway ones don't tell the whole secret.
I was playing detective. Discovered you already had a private dick. You turned a tough guy into a pussy. I was barking at everyone and taking all your shit.
Trapped behind the wall you put between us. Your mother, your father, your brothers and sisters, even seemed fed up. They used to be nice to me. Used me. Made me like them when all I wanted was pussy. They helped change me into something I never wanted to be, besides inside you. A gentleman, but look where that got me
When your sister gets older, I’ll make sure were close. I don’t mean that. Unless… Nah. Nevermind. Explaining is useless.
Feels like i’m in a movie.
Where dogs get trapped when they roam. All the tail I was chasing I thought you would never know. He'll yeah, I loved you. Take me back and Ill fuck you like a hoe. That's what you want, ain't it???
He's 5yrs older. So, you learning all types a tricks. Fuck you. Fuck this.
But, just let me know if you’re ever lonely and just need a fucking friend.
Pandemic Entertainment
Your period piece was cool for a minute. Now I need to watch some aggressive killing in peace.
All your episodes are as long as a movie. You already know what happens. Love. Heartbreak. Sadness. Fakery. Fuckery, Suckery. Pantie soiling sluttery.
Don't ever get upset at my pornography. Ever again.
You been glued to another man seducing for 72 straight hours. The couch smells like clapping cheeks. You haven't been stripping for me.
You made it easy to read your minds. You know what men call Flix. Nevermind. Keep watching your show. I’ll be on the net. Taking my time finding instant gratification.
Well Damn
Everyone’s a pussy.
Everyone’s a dick.
Everyone’s masculine.
Everyone’s bitch.
How can a man say this?
It’s all internalized. Taught and injected.
But who gives a fuck?
You know that’s all we want.
Be open. Lay it all out.
We are supposed to teach each other.
You know. I know. I fail, to be retaught.
You can go if you don’t like it.
We all move similar when hyped in private.
Damned with love.
We do well off hate.
Overflow with belief. We are all we need.
AH
Late night.
When insomnia creeps. Giving extra time for a wasted day.
Now you’re tied to it and can’t blink it away. You think your strong because you suffer without complaining.
You think your weak because suffering ain’t bringing success. You think you should complain like the rest.
Become partners in struggle. Parting with original.
AH!
Anxiety.
The new Gucci. Expensive popularity.
The new wonder drug. With side FX of the ancients, to make men and women live centuries longer.
It’s called sex and being yourself.
Last longer. Come faster. Orgasm faster. Come stronger. Come harder.
AH.
We’re together now.
Each other’s blues. Happy times are mixed in. Let’s toast to forgiveness. Don’t worry about what I haven’t don’t yet. New days should leave old regrets.
ahh, finally. I’m falling asleep.
Staircase Confessional
Image from www.dreamstine.com
Where every Negro becomes a star from blasts that end good nights.
Pissing on the floor to track footprints.
Earning rank in hallways.
Roaches flicking each other from ashtrays, learning at our lowest and darkest to find a way.
A lesson in how to behave, how to survive, digging yourself deeper in trenches, when you rise, you become a ghetto wonder.
Hurting means you do good work. You just never recover.
——-
Alternate beginning.
——-
Where every Negro becomes a star from blasts that end good nights.
Whatchu mean? Fuckin, fistfights or gunplay.
Nah, I’m talking that dope fast food- have it your way.
Been Pimpin’
When you know what you got and what it's worth, it’s easy to sacrifice screwing it up. Cause you know how to get it back, said every wise man stupid enough to fall for temptation
Kickin the Truth.
Remember, you can be just as fucked up on drugs and alcohol, as you can be on lies. The truth only sounds good to people who care.
Strengths & Weaknesses
WEAKNESSES
Slowing down or stopping when close to finishing
Focusing on too many projects at a time
Being unorganized
Not sacrificing ego to take jobs I see below my worth to make money and provide
Trying to please too many people
Not keeping deadlines
Being undisciplined
Not fixing my weaknesses
STRENGTHS
Knowing what my weaknesses are. Now I can slowly wear them down
Monday’s
A habit, somedays I’m glad I can’t kick. Although I haven’t had too many that didn’t make me sick. But the weekend, I can’t tell if they’re friend or foe. Dates I always look forward to but enhance my struggle.
2 days out of seven.
1 to rest.
1 to prepare for stress.
When will it end? Hopefully with everyday feeling like the weekend.
LOVE SICK
The physical abuse that makes lovers strangers and enemies or, makes them strangely love the threats with the intensity that makes a person focus on someone they hate.
If you ever seen someone who is dope sick, that’s what loving the wrong person is.
But I don’t know if anyone ever has the right dose all of the time.
It depends on what high your on at that moment in life. But those dead-beat daddies sure know how to beat love down in the sheets. And bring more forgiveness than a eulogy.
Real deal Daddy skills.
Fatherhood ain’t always what men think.
It’s a combination of what children want combined with what they need.
Pushing them to be a good person is crucial. But pushing them to become the person you dreamed of but never became, is how children become mentally crippled in areas they were previously creative and free.
Children have their own idols. And you might be one of them. But if you force your views, you will become false instead of real.
Anniversary Love
It’s not my anniversary, but this is how I’ve had so many.
My Wife is.
(S)weet as coming home to a clean house.
(W)elcoming and fulfilling as a phat booty.
(E)asy as a promise.
(E)xciting as new pussy catching the nut of a man going through a crisis.
(T)hat anniversary love..
.
(F)ierce enough to cut a playa when he fucks up.
(U)nforgettable as a feminist who loves to please a dick.
(C)onstant stimulation like a mind full of ambition.
(k)eeps my toes curling.
(H)ealer.
(E)xpert mind blower.
(R)eason we dream. And for wet dreams.
I got myself a sweet fuck’er
————————————————————————————————-
ALTERNATE VERSION
Sweet as sweet potato pie.
Welcoming and fulfilling as a phat butt.
Easy as a promise.
Exciting as new pussy catching a man going through a crisis nut.
That anniversary love
.
Fierce enough to cut a playa when he fucks up.
Unforgettable as a feminist who loves to please a dick.
Constant stimulation like vibrating underwear.
keeps it fun like public fornication.
DREAMS & NIGHTMARES
A nightmare is a dream you can’t control.
A dream is a nightmare you enjoy.
An alter life from the soul.
Realities free escape.
A haunting sacrifice you chase.
Ya feel me
Never feel sorry for being yourself, especially if your honesty comes from trying to improve.
SAVAGE THERAPY
I'm a Civil to a savage.
I'm a nice guy with my ignorance. The type who will help you with your groceries to steal what I want to eat.
Fuck- fuck- fuck- yahhh.
Ba-da-da-da-da-da.
You-really-really-pissed-me-off.
So-I'm-gonna-watch some porn-and blare it loud like a hooorrrn.
And go off-in your clean drawers.
Child Support
Remember I love. Remember what I told you. Why are you not listening? How come you don’t remember.
What the fuck did I say? What the fuck did I tell you? You aint a baby no more. You gotta figure this shit out?
Whats wrong?
Remember what I told you. Are you listening? Remember I love you. You remember right?
How do people handle and survive anxiety or depression, especially if you have kids? Without saying “stop being a bitch. What the fuck is wrong with you? Or thinking everyone is retarded. I know they say spread the word to end the word, but sometimes people who don’t have special needs act like they do and sometimes your only choice is to let your hands fly or that word.
I know people say, you always have a choice. But that’s not always how depression or anxiety works. It sneaks up on you like a sore pimple or body odor.
And parents wonder where and what mistake they made besides becoming one. Warning! Remember, if you love your kids, don’t tell them this. It might produce a star that zooms across memories and news screens for making flesh fall limp and lifeless.
Aww cut it out. We love our kids, but we don’t always like them. Kids don’t always like their parents either. In fact. Who spends more time disliking? Acting like discipline, chores and the word no is murderous and hateful to their freedumb.
It just makes You wanna leave or abandon the one you're with.
Remember I love you.
Remember to remember you love me.
Stop being a little bitch. Leaking like a pussy. Or a thirsty dick. But it’s the pussies that leak and keep going. Dicks need rest. They tap out. So, who's really the bitch. Not me, cause I make pussies tap out.
And if you feel like this and can’t tell yourself the truth, you might need a professional with a degree. Remember what I told you.
Psychologists see their own, to shrink what they don’t want to see or think and expand what you want.
Remember we need to try and meet the kids at their level. It’s hard because when they tell you they have suicidal thoughts, parents always forget to remember when we had those same feelings, from that crush or love that rejected or dumped us.
Shit… Even current money or job problems make us wanna leave and advance with the ones lying to themselves. Pretending everything is under control while they hand you their issues right after they encourage you and remind you they love you.
That embarrassment and pressing feeling of being alone, while surrounded by people going through problems that attract and disgust the same people. With lies that bring belief until truth sounds off.
So now you’re handling their problems better than your own. A Debt you won’t recover, A lasting setback. Stroking egos to be friends with people who don’t care enough to check your pulse from their overdose.
You never want to make your kids feel like its completely normal to have depressing, hurtful, suicidal thoughts but truth is, it haunts Adults especially who don’t get the sympathy of celebrities or children.
We gotta remember, were supposed to help and support without court mandates or too late death bed gatherings and prayers. The best way to do that is to be honest about the times we (Adults) didn’t figure it out which for a-lot of us is our entire lives.
We need to listen without interrupting, judging, or injecting our own sob stories as if the child is our therapist and we catch them off guard for approval and acceptance. You gotta Allow your child to come to you for help without sinking them deeper into the life their asking for help to avoid.
Transcript from my upcoming podcast “The Tabernacle”
Strip Club Adventures
Everything was bouncing. The walls. The glasses. The niggas, the bitches. The art. I expected the bitches to be bouncing, its basic economics, but (who the fuck has art hanging in a strip club?).
I took a closer look, and it was close ups of tits and ass. Genius. I smiled when I stepped back from my examination of the female body. And I was surrounded.
They must’ve sensed fresh meat. The way upperclassmen smell virgins.
They grabbed my hand and led me to the front row seat. Every blink turned every move into a centerfold snapshot.
The man at the next table said, “You deserve a raise.” Then stood up to show the lump in his pants.
The dancer said, “I sure do baby, but I need a bigger one than that” And winked at me.
Mr. Dickhead yelled “Ayy!” Then came over to my table. I have always been able to handle myself, but I got the feeling that he was there with a couple of the jerk offs at his table. I stood up. He swung. I backed up, felt soft flesh and something slide against my ass.
I grabbed for my wallet, and it was gone.
“Ayyy!” Mr. Dickhead swung again. I blocked and turned to grab Ms. Sticky palms. She whistled and a bouncer big as a bear lifted me and carried me outside.
“Wait! Wait! She took my fucking wallet.”
He put me down outside the entrance. Ms. Sticky Palms strutted up behind him holding my wallet.
“Naw baby” That fake ID is gonna get us all fucked. She opened it, took out the cash. Counted a hundred in twenties and tens, folded and slid sixty in her bra, put the rest back and handed me my wallet.
She leaned in and whispered.
“I can’t let no tenderonies get us shut down. No matter how fine. Better hide that fake ID too.”
She nodded towards four cops leaning against their cars.