The Simple Things #3

Every Saturday, I will share three things that I believe to be the simple things in life, yet things that make me extremely happy. I invite you to do the same.

Saturdayfinds2
“Knowledge is Power.” Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

1. books
2. music
3. Saturday mornings


Now, it’s your turn! Share with me three simple things in life that make you happy. Please reblog, share this post, and give others a smile and a little bit of love. If you reblog the post, please ping or tag my blog and use the words Simple Things” and Happy as your blog entry tags.

Are you ready, folks? Can we keep the love flowing by sharing the simple things that make us happy? This is our The Simple Things Share Post #3. Have fun and let the happiness begin!

stories, labels, and approvals (Collaboration with Barry)

not everything needs a story
it’s possible to want justice
without being seen as angry
and you’re damned right I’m angry
when our justice is perverted
time and again, and again
you fixate on the anger
spinning a yarn about
the irrational response
of us ungrateful thugs

the ones you want to
linger beneath the soles of your feet
will be the very ones who
you’ll beg to add more days
onto your life.
and when the Maker calls your number,
I will play bailiff,
executing all plans for your demise.
and the difference between you and I
will be that I had nothing
to do with it.

make your presence known in other ways.
show this world that there is
so much more to living than
constantly trying to flaunt your
privileges in my face
OR
belittling me every chance you get.
“when they go low, we go high,”
and it must feel like shit
watching angels scale the skies
while you reach into your pockets
for God-status and pull up lint instead

not everything needs a label
it’s possible to seek solitude
without being tagged as arrogant
I look inward for serenity
I demand airspace to be me
authentically free from the box
you cram to shove me in
I guess I’m arrogant enough
to exist in stout defiance
of your weights and measures

not everything needs approval
it’s possible to just want to breathe
without society constricting airflow
or to share life, laughter with a lover
without enraging a stranger lording
bizarre, anachronistic, dogmatic views
I wish to seek the warmth of the sun
free from fear of fatalistic reprisal
because I fit some unsavory description
or I love in a way that you don’t

and, I’ve watched you, watching me–
you want me to be this robotic
thing intent on following your lead:
no disputes, no disagreements, and
no opinion of my own,
and losing the biggest part of me
is not something I am willing to do.
this frustrates you . . .
it digs into places of your soul
that you aren’t willing to share and
I have fun witnessing your strength
dwindle to mere nothingness
since it feeds off hate.
***



This is a collaboration with my homie and long-time collaborator, Barry. Please, visit his blog and enjoy his genius mind.

But Will She Stay?

Or, Will He Go?

MUSICAL SELECTION|EMOTIONS: DON’T ASK MY NEIGHBOR

I did not budge. I was not going to call the cops because I have a fear of them now that cannot be described. I do not feel protected. I do not feel served. I would rather not have my mom and best friend collect my body from a holding cell at my local precinct because my conscience would not shut up.

But I listened . . .

I was having a relaxing bath, soaking my aching leg, while reading and it happened . . . A door slammed. Her trembling voice followed. His shortly after. It shook me awake from my jump into another world and I instantly knew what this was — an argument. My walls shook from the second slam of a door.

The bathroom walls are paper-thin. I silently prayed, “Lord, whatever is about to happen, please don’t let it be something that will make me call the cops.” My new neighbors found themselves in a twisted situation and this place is not kind to those disturbing the peace, but while things played out, it sounded as though they may have needed this to happen.

That may be an ass-backward statement, but what I mean by this is perhaps this thing could be the defining factor of their relationship — of if there will be a relationship after tonight. A woman’s voice when rattled can break you. If you have any peace in your spirit, you will feel every word falling from her lips.

“IF YOU WANT TO BE WITH ME, THEN SHOW ME!”

She was cry-shouting at him and she said this over and over again and I felt my heartbeat quicken and my hands began to shake. I had not been around a couple arguing in years and this stirred up a fear in me that I forgot existed. I wanted to cry, I felt like I was about to cry, but his voice powered through . . .

“I MOVED HERE FOR YOU!”

She did not back down. She yelled her testimony to him. She made her reasons known and the back and forth of it came right back to her original statement, “If you want to be with me, then show me!” He said something that made me cringe — that made me want to jump out of the tub, throw on some clothes, grab my steel bat, and call my cousins to let them know what was up, but I remembered who I am. It still did not stop me from tearing me apart when he said, “I AM A GROWN MOTHERFUCKIN’ MAN. I DON’T HAVE TO SHOW YOU SHIT.”

There was quiet. It became too quiet. The kind of quiet that shows itself right before the main event and I thought, “I have to make sure he does not hit her, that she does not attack him.” I had to wait it out. I know what a blow to the head sounds like by a closed fist. Or, how a back cracks when it’s slammed against a wall. I grew up in a home where violence was the frontrunner for many years until it was not. I had to be sure they did not physically hurt one another. But verbally . . .

The damage had been done.

It passed, like a storm . . . Like a kidney stone punching through one’s bowels shoving its way into the light. A mellow tune played, what sounded like another door gently closing introduced itself, and the night began to feel safe again.

I wonder if she will gather her things, relocate to wherever she ran away from, or if she will stay loyal — glued to his side. I wonder if he will step it up. If he will try harder, if he even needs to. I wonder if they know just how thin the bathroom walls are and how afraid I had gotten hoping and praying that I did not have to call the cops.

There will be that awkward meeting when we pass each other in the morning. That brief, knowing smile or head nod. No one will mention a thing and we will go on like it never happened. But I will look at her and I will know that her heart is breaking.

I will silently tell her that mine is too.


Originally published via Medium.

Excelsior

Photo Credit: Banter Snaps|Unsplash

Musical Selection: Rahsaan Patterson|Sent From Heaven

I am supposed to forget you. That is how this thing was meant to be. But, I feel . . . see . . . hear you every-damn-where and the moment I reach to turn you off, the volume only gets louder. I keep telling myself that I dodged a bullet. Hell, I ain’t ready to die anyway and you would’ve killed me.

I keep telling myself that I dodged a bullet.

But, here I am, digging into the past, trying to pull you out. Shouldn’t I be done with this shit by now? Shouldn’t I? I canceled my therapy appointment yesterday because you followed me all over my home and I really didn’t want you taking over her office too. Afterward, when night crept through my blinds, I told myself, “You cannot run away from the past, Tre. When it sneaks up on you, run into it head-on.”

Shouldn’t I be done with this shit by now? Shouldn’t I?

I’m thankful and grateful to have you here in my life. Stay forever, make me yours and we’ll love through eternity.

The deer run through the wood-chipped areas of my apartment complex, kicking up perfectly shaped triangles — their hooves marking the grass. I watch them gallop in sync and wonder if they have any baggage and if they do, how heavy is it? How often do they carry the extra weight? They look so light and free and that’s how I want to feel, light and free.

But, I won’t be. I know this . . . I also know that my therapist will have extra homework for me and perhaps, I will benefit from her wisdom — her techniques. I should have kept my appointment, but now I am here avoiding every imprint of you, shedding worthless tears.

They look so light and free and that’s how I want to feel, light and free.

I will never be free until I shake you out of me. In my heart, in my soul, you have made your home. There is no eviction notice big enough for me to issue to you. No variation of the color pink that would be bright enough. You have planted yourself in the depths of my being. Surely, someone knows how you can be uprooted without pieces of me leaving too.

I thought you were perfect. I was wrong. My previous manifestations of you are proof that I was foolish. I was blind. I am not without fault.

I’m thankful and grateful to have you here in my life. Stay forever, make me yours and we’ll love through eternity.

I am not without fault. And that’s what hurts the most.

Welcome to living, baby. You ain’t alive unless you’re feeling something.”


Originally published via Medium.

Keeping Secrets (An Experiment)

Musical Selection: George Michael (Wham)|Careless Whisper

An Experiment

I said I would never
love again.
Those days are gone.
But, you make me want to
tell my secrets…

With you, I am weak —
I should be strong.
Is it any wonder?
My love, you know my regrets,
an attestation is unnecessary.

I said I would never
love again.

But…
You make me weak.


Originally published in The Junction via Medium.