Poetic Graffiti

In the beginning …   Life seems to be a simple metaphor I can see the profundity of my soul that I always heard my mother talk about As I see it, the depth of my soul reaches ankle deep in those little pools my mom use to buy every summer with the little fish painted on it Still I stand tall and yet still overwhelmed in that water no more shallow than the last So in my world, deep only exists in the beat my heart pounds with no help of my own Deep doesn’t even describe my most emotional day So shallow encompasses my everyday soul like character Teaching those around me how to make it in the world with the depth of a 5 year old and the awareness of a wise chief Collaboration seems to be my least nurtured quality as it seems I’ve only found the happy medium- rare between my spiritual enlightenment and my jammed core Yet I have been deep sea diving in my shallow flood for more so much more The more that kinda looks like a lot but it’s not The more that’s kinda just enough but not too much More like feeling my heart bleeding for love The kinda love that isn’t forever but more than death don’t you separate The kinda heart that feels for others more than just a dollar donation but kinda like reveals an empathic heart and comforting support I wonder everyday how Maya Angelou does it How she feels Giving so much of herself to others through works that are so personal and reflective and seeming to have so much left for herself Being vulnerable and welcoming at the same time That sounds like a job for my actress side Her character played by none other than I The me I didn’t want you to see That same scared delicate little girl wading in that fresh water from some pond far far away but this time I sit small shoulders-deep in what water feels like life Neck deep in myself Right now I was alive   .... I am .... Fuck it ... I'M A LEGEND, Legendary .. Revolutionary .. some type of Unordinary being , Being me is what made the history my misunderstood generation , Laying down my past articles of indecency and exposure of imperfections , I AM SOMEBODY , repeating that line to be myself , Contemplating the uncertainty in my heart , making Martin my biological father , Visiting Malcom's unrested ideals , hoping the untouchable's recognized their scuffed territory , I am that somebody , alleviating pain thru questionable rationale , Tattooing my facial features in the memories of those who thought less of me , classic brew of personality , a handful of spunk , and a pinch of intelligence , DAMN IT .. I AM A LEGEND , Legendary .. Revolutionary .. some type of Unordinary being , if you haven't realized that at the end of this autobiography , Maybe you should click on reality and start from the beginning !   SHOW ME HOW TO LOVE In consequence my current state of happiness in nonexistent Right now I could be staring into the eyes of some kind of amity Surrounding myself with what I have believed to be bona fide romance Striking my sincere interest and appreciation for being the chosen one When in coincidence my frivolous misconception has already vanished my true love But it is okay Something was just telling me not to settle but to wait Musiq said wait I follow instructions to the tee Until I realized that I was living by lyrics made for those listening without reading between the lines This cd made for the listener of this prophet made artist He has predicted my falls and my glory considering that I have been guided bmy his mishaps and mistakes my own aren’t greater but equal Guidelines for love have confused the hell out of my confidence Confident that love will come to me yet I’m waiting for perfection Which is essence does not exist I know I know I’m all over the place with my ideals of fancy But confided in the mind of the believers of love and the roaming minds of the adventurous lovers Loving me better has taught me how receive great love To be in tune with affection at its lowest tones and highest secrecy To be shown the secrets of love I am grateful Fearful no more of what love has in store for me   Heaven of Hero’s Blessings bless those bestowed with the gift of truth and reality Can any human possess such a gift? Such a profound, misunderstood pleasure clothed in sheep’s wool. Some have designed the image of the blessed … Long hair, Plump lips. Carmel skin, Beautiful complexion. Gray hair, Glasses. How have you designed your blessed one in hero’s clothing? Where do their powers lie? If our realities are all different what reality is blessed with being true and real? Has the creative creator of our hero’s monastery of foreverness, forever living and endless memories of savior created a heaven separate from the heaven of the usual imperfect? One place? Filled with great magnitudes of power; Power in speech, language, mind, body and love. Picturesque. A bright light unbearable to visually embrace by the dressed and naked eye perceives them to be untouchable. Yet. The forgiven and forgivers The powerful and powerless The loving and conditional The misunderstood and perfect Exist in a damaged peace And the list of our protected haven gets smaller as our descriptions get longer Left. There’s just you. The perfectly imperfect. A hero in your own right. The blessings blessed you . The gift giver and taker of truth and reality. Haven exists in your eyes. The hero is fashionably late.