Before You Go*

If I had one minute
I'd tell you how you got me caught up in it at the sight of your face.
If I had one minute
I'd tell you how your kiss took me away and felt safe in your embrace.
If I had one minute
Put sixty seconds up on the clock and I won't waste no time.
I only got one minute
To throw everything to the side and ask you if you'll be mine.


I don't possess the lyrical perfection
Only got words that describe to you my love and affection.
Find the rhythm of the world through my many articulations
My punctuations might better describe the situation.
Why don't you sit down and let me talk to you for a minute
I gotta say what's on my mind before I get caught up in it.

When I look in the mirror
I still see you right behind me
And when I'm layin in my bed
I can feel you right beside me
Boy I don't know what you did to get inside my head.

I don't wanna let you go
But I gotta let you know
You're the greatest thing that's happened to me

And I can't help but smile when I think
Of what we could be.

It was something I can't explain,
you're in my brain now.
You loved me so good and it's a shame how
you been been gone for almost three hundred and sixty five days now.
and I'm still missin you.

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Tuesday, July 19, 2011 Posted in | , , , , , | 0 Comments »

The Right Thing. Love, Mom

This is not a piece of poetry, but a piece of writing from a class that I am currently taking. We were told to think about a time when we were of service to another person. The story is about my job as a server at a restaurant and how it relates to service, charity and virtue, as the class is reflection of our community service. Being that this job is based around serving others, there is no doubt that 'service' in the very literal sense is a part of my job. But I thought of a time when 'service' signified giving my time and effort to another human being.
 This story emulates my mother's age old saying "Do the right thing." It answers the question of why I do service and why I do things that I don't necessarily have to do. Let us not question what we do for the sake of it being a bother, but because it helps another people that we have no obligation or responsibility for. Let us not have just sympathy, but compassion for another human life and take a little time out of ours to make a difference in theirs. And let us never hesitate to do the Right Thing.

I have performed service for many years, even before entering college. I possessed the capacity and compassion to help others. Countless hours have been spent tutoring younger students, spending time with the elderly, feeding those who are hungry, watching children through a church program, and the list goes on. After reading about philanthropy and charity and how they have both been defined through time, societies, religions, and other various categories, I would not say that they are one in the same. While philanthropy takes private initiatives for public good, charity is the giving of goods, time, or money to those in need. Both are to improve someone’s quality of life.
Charity is seen as some as virtue, which I believe is true. Because of the modernization of society, the essence of virtue has to some extent been less of an attribute to charity. Some see charity as one person having pity on another, and therefore performing a service to them. Others can see charity as someone less fortunate asking for help and others being forced to do so. If I had to categorize the service which I do, I would place it under charity. With that being said, I do not see the service that I do as charity or philanthropy. Rather, as my mother would say, I do service because it is “the right thing.” I do not perform service as a means of redemption because I have done wrong in the past and hope to make up for it, nor is it out of pity for another person. I do service because I know that helping others is the only way that humans can coexist and progress in life.
I could expand on the aforementioned list of service that I have performed for others as a way to describe how I have been of service to others, but I prefer to describe a single experience. I work in a buffet that is located in a casino. People who come in are sometimes elated because of a large sum of money that they have won, or can be a complete wreck because they have bet away their life savings along with all of their family’s assets (no, I’m not kidding). People of many different levels of ability come into the buffet as well. There was a man who was middle aged who came into the buffet one Wednesday with another younger man in a motorized wheel chair. The man was clearly physically impaired and had limited mobility of his arms and legs, hence the automatic chair. Wednesday’s are the busiest day of the week at the buffet (Senior Citizen Special… You could imagine how that is), this being the reason that the men are quickly sat and told to wait for their server, as if they were a bother to the hostess who had to clear a table for them to sit at.
 Their server was less than happy to serve them, as it took longer than usual to get a drink order from the man in the wheel chair. The server came back mumbling and complaining of how they were “going to take up time and money by sitting at their table forever” since the man in the wheelchair was unable to feed himself. I told my coworker to let me have the table, and that she could have one of my tables when it opened up (we all had full sections in the restaurant), so that she would be less stressed (and the rest of the workers and myself didn’t have to listen to her incessant complaints). I brought them over the drinks that they had ordered, introduced myself with a smile, and told them that I would be serving them. The man who walked in pulled me aside.
“I’m sorry that you had to go out of your way for us.” The man said to me. “This happens a lot. My brother isn’t mentally disabled, but people always think he is. He just takes a little longer than normal, and people get uncomfortable around him.”
I realized at that moment that both of them knew what exchange happened between my coworker and I. “Don’t you worry about it” I said, “you take all the time you need. If you need anything, please let me know.”
“Thank you” he responded. He sat back down at the table. His brother mumbled something. I didn’t say anything because I thought it was probably none of my business. Then his brother looked up “He says ‘Thank you’. My brother’s name is Phil, and I’m Jim.”
“It’s nice to meet you both” I responded. I smiled and walked away. I continued to check up on them, asking if they needed anything, brought them extra napkins, as I do with any table that I serve. It was clear that Jim and Phil had a wonderful love and bond with one another. Jim never left his brother’s side, taking him up to the buffet from time to time to get something else to eat. Phil only ate one thing at a time, so getting a full plate wasn’t very practical. Jim would alternate between feeding himself and Phil every few bites, and giving Phil some juice or water. I went up to the table nearing the end of their main courses and asked if they would like coffee or milk with dessert. They Jim politely declined and asked about my life- what I was going to school for and such.
As I was explaining, the straw Phil was drinking out of came out of his mouth. His brother didn’t see it because it was on the opposite side of his body. At first, I wasn’t sure what I should do- tell Jim, ignore it, or help Phil get the straw back into his mouth. Phil looked at me. It wasn’t a helpless look, but one as if he was trying to tell me something. I touched the cup that was at the side of the wheelchair. It was empty. “Would you like more juice, Phil?” I asked. His face lit up as he began to smile and his eyes widened as he mumbled again, but this time I understood “Apple juice, right?” Phil’s head began to shake rapidly as the smile stayed on his face. I went and got the juice, and put the cup back in the holder on the wheel chair and put the elongated straw in the cup. I smiled and looked at Jim. “Thank you so much” he said. I looked at Phil, still bent over from situating the cup. Phil looked at me and smiled, “Thank you” me mumbled, and I put the straw in Phil’s mouth so that he could drink.
When Phil and Jim were done, I walked from the back kitchen to say goodbye to them and wish them luck on the machines in the casino. Jim shook my hand, “Oh, thanks, but we just come here for the food. We’re just on our way home. Thank you so much… For everything” I smiled as I nodded and said “Anytime”. Phil spoke up, and said “Thank you” as loudly as he could speak, his face still stuck in a smile. “You really made his day” Jim said. I leaned over, took one of Phil’s hands in both of mine and said “You’re very welcome; you come back anytime you want”
Jim and Phil were gone, and I was back to my regular routine of being looked over by my customers, spoken at instead of being spoken with, and holding myself back from smacking the old ladies who think I’m not going to notice them stuffing three plates worth of cookies and cake into their mothball-infested purses. But all in all, I was okay with it, because I knew Phil and Jim were going to have a good day, and that Phil was actually smiling.
It is clear that I served Jim and Phil, and even my annoying coworker that day. I went out of my way to help them, to serve them. What may not be so clear, though, is that Jim and Phil served me. They gave me the opportunity to get to know them and see them as people, not just as customers. They left a lasting impression on me, one that I will never forget and will carry with me so that the next time when I see someone who needs someone to talk to, or help, I can be the one to be there. Jim served me by accepting my offer to help, without angst or bitterness, but with humble graciousness. I was humbled and allowed to reflect on as much as I hated my job, I was lucky enough to be able to be there: walking, talking, and feeding myself. I served them, but they did such a service to me, probably without intention.  I do not consider this an act of charity by contemporary means, but an act of charity because it was out of love. Just because I am receiving money and a paycheck by serving them doesn’t negate the fact that service was performed.
At the end of the day, I didn’t have to switch tables with my coworker, or help Jim, or speak to Phil. I performed an action that was outside of my responsibilities as a server not because I wanted to relieve anyone of their responsibility or get extra tip money (Jim left me $15, which is a pretty penny when the norm is a table of 5 leaving you 3 bucks.)  I didn’t even do it because it was the “Christian” thing to do and because God would be happy with me if I did. I simply did it because of my mother’s words: “Do the right thing” I know that no matter where I go or what I do, that the “right” thing may not always be the easiest thing to do. It may take up time and even a little bit of money (when someone on the train asks me for some spare change), but in the end, I know that it will be the best thing, and in the interest of a human life, that life not necessarily being my own.
But don’t get me wrong, I’m no saint. I still get tired of my job at times and when a customer is hounding me for more napkins as if it’s a state of emergency, I still respond with my mother’s other words, “I’m dancing as fast as I can.”

                                                          I love you, Mommy. I always want to make you proud.

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Thursday, March 3, 2011 Posted in | , , , | 0 Comments »

Inspiration (Stars of the Lid)

Only words will keep my head above water as I drown in my thoughts and feelings. When does the vicious cycle of words turning into wounds turning into spears that stab your heart and your voice then retaliates with words that turn into wounds... when does it end? I keep these feelings of defeat to myself because they need not be spoken in order to be heard. Just look into my eyes and you will see behind the tears that my heart has been robbed of the love that it has given so selflessly, never to have gotten it back in return... For love I would not give my life but for the one I love would my life be turned in for.
I would lay down my life if only my words would be heard because they are what give me my life and had I not have words with which to articulate my heart, so I would not have any life worth living. If my words were as lost as I was, I would be nothing, but it is because I am lost that my words have merit. Should I be found and in my words find myself, then my words and therefore my life will be of worth.
But if nothing comes of it, then I know that I still did my best to convey the messages that pass my mind on a daily basis and the fact that I even transposed my thoughts onto a piece of paper will be worth something. So if something that was lost is now found to never have been lost before, it only simply needed to be discovered, then these words will find purpose and break that cycle of the ones that constantly get caught in the whirlpool of water and broken glass and be arranged in a stained window that the sun will shine through and give just a little bit of clarity among the chaos.





This piece was inspired by The Stars of the Lid album entitled "And Their Refinement of the Decline".

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Tuesday, February 22, 2011 Posted in | , , , , , , | 0 Comments »

Faded

You left for too long. My memory of you dimmed with the feeling in my heart. It laid there- dormant for months. I erased your voice from my thoughts and the feeling of your arms around me was replaced by a spring breeze. Your habits became forgotten, your face- a picture tucked away. I tried to find equivocation of the joy I felt from being around you.
Something about you stayed locked in my mind, and was awoken the day that I needed to find you. The scent of your shirt when I wrapped you in my arms as I hid from the world in yours. Words only come slowly now. Like the words of a Gregorian chant, they are few in number and ring on long after the voice has stopped. Fatigue of my body has led to words to come in only small quantities, but there will be strength, something will give. The moon will stay out a little longer to provide for more sleep and for more words to be dreamt onto the paper of my mind.
My mind gropes at the darkness for a fleeting memory of you as the lights go down. My eyes search my subconscious as my body moves me in my sleep. I can almost feel your arm around my waist and your hand in my hair when I come to the realization that you're not there, it was just me tugging on the sheets. The moisture of your kiss was nothing but tears on my cheek. Your chest was just my pillow and your voice was just the rain at my window.

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Thursday, February 3, 2011 Posted in | , , , , , , | 0 Comments »

Never.Ending.Beginning

We always search for a happy ending but there's nothing happy about an ending. So let's make it a happy never ending beginning. Keep going around in circles, since circles have no ending. Let’s dance around the point since the point is the punch line and the ending but what is the point of love? It is to love and be loved which is the reciprocal of each other so really we're just going in circles around each other. Instead of finding the point, let's find meaning in meeting each other half way and only half way because once you're half way the rest is just leaving...

Let's find decibels in silence because silence speaks volumes and actions speak louder than words, so let me scream "love" at the top of my lungs when my lips meet yours, my battle cry will carry on as my teeth tug at your ear lobe. I promise to whisper sweet nothings as my breath finds its way from your ear to your neck, speak in tongues and you can guess what comes next, sing as my body finds rhythm with yours as fitting perfectly together as harmonizing chords do...

I can almost speak right through you without saying a word. When your eyes meet mine the silence is almost deafening because we each have so much to say and no way to say it, only the means by which to show it but a picture is worth a thousand words, so I could just paint your portrait as my hands find the curve of your lips and how it matches the curve of my hip... Every detail in the strength of your shoulders as my hair falls over them and my hands continue to paint with conviction. There are no mistakes as your hand takes mine, we'll paint the perfect picture together and say what we always meant to each other as we wait for the sun to rise and dry our portrait that is worth a thousand words more than what we ever could have said to each other in a single night... or a Lifetime.


"We always search for a happy ending 
but there's nothing happy about an ending. 
So let's make it a happy never ending beginning...
 Love, and be loved in return."

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Monday, January 31, 2011 Posted in | , , , , , , | 1 Comments »

Truth: Re-Covered

Forgive me for falling asleep on you last night
I just want to fall asleep on you at night.
Rest my head on you chest
As your fingers run through my hair...
Or maybe we could just talk until the sun comes up
And our minds and hearts are bare.
I just know I want to know you-
Inside and out.
I wanna know your body and mind
The way I do your heart.
I want to run my hands
Up the backbone of your intellect.
Wrap my arms around your shoulders
and show you what I really meant,
When I said its been forever
Since I actually felt this close
And when you tell me what's on your mind
That it will always mean the most.


Now that I've had my fix of you
I don't know where to go.
Words from more than a year ago 
echo louder than before, so here you go: 
The unbearably beautiful truth 
Of what I think of you... 
I'm scared of what you mean to me, 
Terrified that maybe we're meant to be.
I don't want to feel you next to me
because it's so good it hurts. 
But I get so lonely when you're not next to me
Cause my heart wants you as more than just a friend to me. 
Because no matter what, my heart will love unconditionally.
But my mind has to protect me from reality
Of what I see that's happening around me. 
Even when I want to say everything, I hesitate
I just want to let you know as much as I can
Before it's too late.

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Saturday, January 8, 2011 Posted in | , , , , , , | 0 Comments »

Rehab


I wish that you believed in love, so then maybe you could see the love I have to give. Like a trap star, I got so much I sell the shit. But nobody wants it, all having been scorned by the one before. So I'm sellin mine in bulk at a discounted rate- lacking conversation and maybe a second date. Always only half invested, I keep having to get myself tested to see if something's love or lust, and always saying "In God I trust" but trust less in the dollar bills that are leaving people unfulfilled like a bad trip on a half ass stash. Like a junkie out of rehab, you swore off love because her lies tied the belt around your arm as her breath fueled the fire of her kisses that cooked and were injected into you veins, that was the only pain you knew of love. Left strung out on the bathroom floor your hopes and dreams went down the drain along with your hope that you'd get another hit of her. Her love was your drug and it turned into addiction- a daily procedure, she'd tell you lies of pride and leave you alone to seizure. You checked yourself in to the nearest center for rehabilitation and you made gettin clean your obligation.
I'm sitting here wondering if there's any hope for a relapse cause you've seemed to have swept off my feet and I'm standing on my kneecaps. I'm not saying I want you to fall back to the track of what backtracked you, but the feeling that comes when something you're in is the truth. I want to be your natural high. Trippin off life and all the little things. Let me hold your hand so can feel the beat of my heart pulsing through your veins. I don't wanna make you blind, I just want to open your heart so you don't see the end before the shit ever starts. That was my problem too, but I had to live in the moment. I knew that they'd be gone, I just couldn't have shown it. I just want to make you breathless, remove your fear like articles of clothing and shed this..
They say if you want to stay alive, don't get high on your own supply... unless of course you sharin- that's better, then you can get high together. John Legend said we on cloud 9 together. Let my kiss send you to another place while my hair that falls around you is the only way to find your way back. Lay me on my back and rest your head on my chest and exhale your stress. I'll inhale the lies and believe me when I tell you "everything's going to be aright". Everything's going to be alright.

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Friday, December 17, 2010 Posted in | , , , , , , | 0 Comments »

a fleeting thought.

Lookin back 21 years of my past and wondering why the best things didn't last.
I wonder if you really saw the light in my eyes that night.

I wonder if you heard me say "I love you" for one last time.
Why didn't I hold on longer? Why didn't I look back?

I would give anything to see your face just one more time.
14 years later and I can still hear your voice perfectly.
Before I close my eyes tonight, I will pray
That I meet you in my dreams.

I will no longer let my eyes lie for me
You will know the thoughts that cross my mind every minute
If you just take the short moment.
to look into my eyes.

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Tuesday, November 30, 2010 Posted in | , , , , , , | 0 Comments »

You Make Me Complete


When I felt most alone,
You carried me through my darkest hour.
You were right by my side
When the devil threatened to devour
My soul, my being
My entire gift from you.
I know that you will not deny me
You're the purest meaning of the truth.

I need you, I love you
You make my life complete.
You're worth more than gold and diamonds,
No riches could compete.
You know my words before they part my lips
You ease my soul from the restlessness.
You know me better than I know myself
I want to worship you and no one else.

Take my hand, take my heart.
Let us never be apart.
Even when my skies are dark
Let us never be apart.
When the clouds seem to clear
I will give you the praise.
When the sun brightens my day
I will give you the praise.

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Sunday, November 14, 2010 Posted in | , , , | 0 Comments »

A Rippled Reflection

I don't know what to say to you. From the first time I read your words I was intrigued, but I was in an unknown land, never before have I experienced something like that. that... as time went by and I continued to crawl through the loopholes of your metaphors that are to me so real and upfront they couldn't get much closer to the truth, and the fact that they capture every bit of emotion and air from me and leave me breathless, I began to dig deeper and deeper into the jungle of your mind and somewhere in the darkest most desolate place sat the epitome of what was wrapped up in your words all along, the part of me that took what seemed like centuries to show you, was in front of me all along. as I sit and think about how your words speak volumes, they need not be told with volume in your voice, just a simple whisper in my ear will do and a gentle hand on my neck but I haven't even gotten to the lips yet... let your index finger reference the indents of my smile and your fingertips run across my lips so that part of you will stay for me to taste while my leg goes from crossed over me to encompassing you, wrapped with judgment and insecurities, it finds the safest place possible, on your lap to rest with your bones while the rest of me still filled with judgment and insecurities runs free cause that's what your words do to me and for me all while at the same time embracing my mind with the thought of you embracing me I somehow get lost in the space between our two bodies so make it disappear, hold me tight no longer with just your words but with your arms around my waist and my arms around your shoulders we'll find a way through this night of our lives that is set so gently on the city skyline by the setting sun.. the sight that I find myself gazing upon like I was gazing into your eyes feeling every emotion and transmitting them when my lips find refuge from the darkness of the sun dipped in horizon, in a reflection of my life and what my eyes cannot see, ears cannot hear, nose cannot smell nor can the voice speak.. Only the touch of skin can comprehend... but at the same time let me breathe you in, see how perfect it can look, hear your whispers or our echoed scream, those of pain and pleasure, in the moments of tribulation and ecstasy... wrap your mind in my words and my thoughts.. Then you will see me in my barest form...

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Monday, November 1, 2010 Posted in | , , , | 0 Comments »