What Time is It?

Sitting at Jeweler getting battery replaced for watch. I'd love to do it myself, but, I keep losing the small screws.

This jewelry store I go to used to be in East Chicago. It has left the city and moved further south. 

I think on how many people have bought jewelry from this store. I wonder if they still have their layaway program with an incredibly high interest.

I wonder if they still do their store credit. Also, with high interest. They made a killing in East Chicago. 

I've never bought jewelry from them. All I wear are watches and occasionally a stainless steel necklace to hold the ring my son gave me.

Three of the four watches I rock, Steph bought for me. The other one she picked out. 

I don't wear rings. Not even my wedding ring. Love, Steph. 

I wear the necklace when I'm thinking about my son. Peace, Dion.

I don't think I will ever wear much jewelry. I think about the blood, sweat, tears, and poverty linked to the business. It outweighs the shine for me.

I did buy my wife a pair of diamond earrings out of appreciation for what she does. I'm grateful she's not big on jewelry. Too many negative emotions linked to the jewelry purchasing process for me.

I do want to lace her wrist with some diamonds though. Living in this country makes me schizophrenic. 

My watch should be done by now.  Peace...

Trust

Nothing

Hurts deeper

Than a violation

Of

Trust

From

Someone u

Love...

Emotions

Block out

All

Rational

Thought...

U

Feel

The reverberations

Deep inside the chest...

I wait

Meditate

I

Need

To quiet

The noise

Before

The matter

Gets

Addressed.

...I think that's best.

Full Grown

Shorties full grown

Yet

Expect

The same perks.

Shorties full grown

Your turn

To put in work

Stay High

We've chosen to stay high.

We've chosen to fly...

In the sky.

We've chosen to die...

...high...

Lost in clouds of smoke...

Aerial view...

We see

The landscape.

Plot Our course...

High elevations.

Determined.

Remain Elevated.

Never grounded...

So we witness

Our crash.

Land...

Ran out of gas...

Never planned to land.

Never planned to refuel.

We stayed high

And saw how beautiful

We are

And chose to live in the clouds. 

Make Prayer

Ayat 239. And even if you face the state of fear, still perform the Prayer whether on foot or riding; and when you are secure, remember Allah in the manner that He taught you, the manner that you did not know earlier.

~Holy Quran. Surah Al Baqara

Reflecting on all the excuses, justifications, and straight out refusals I've engaged in to NOT do "the Prayer".

If I believe

And

I do. 

Why

Do

I

Let you and your foolish ways

Matter. 

It's because

I've become

Fragmented. 

Too much misinformation

Has muddied the water

I drink. 

In looking for the perfect beat,

I'm playing too many records

At the same time. 

Busy

My brothers

So

Busy

They've lost

Touch

Of the prize. 

My brothers

Stay

Busy

I can see it

In the redness

Of 

Their eyes. 

My brothers

Too busy

Building

With a deck

Of cards. 

Or is it

Stack

Of 

Lies. 

It's all

The

Same

Too busy.

No

Need

To

Ask

Why.

My brothers

Dope as Hell. 

Wack as Hell. 

Two sides

One Card.

Respect

Been a fan

Of

Graffiti writers

Since I saw the first tag.

I was young.

Very young. 

If I share

You probably

Think that I lie. 

I am impressed

By how expansive

The font has grown. 

I am impressed

On how

A well executed tag

Still carries weight

In a culture that's developed

The art form

To include MASSIVE productions

On sides of skyscrapers.

I respect

The humble spirit

Of

Those

With great talent.

Peace to the movement.

Soul Less

How you

master

fake handshakes?

I thought

we were

to meet souls.

You've managed

to separate

your spiritual

from

the

physical.

Now the handshake

lacks soul

And cold

You have successfully

Managed

to

Separate your words

from your heart.

I can't trust you. 

Perfect Beat.

Enjoyed the

Work. 

Respect

The labor.

Many in denial

That the movement

Is stepping

Into

Abstractness. 

Natural

Progression

When letters

Can no longer

Form

The image

To be presented. 

However,

The shorties

Gotta rock them

Letters!

Develop a code

To explode.

Destroy

To

Build.

Inspect

And correct

Build an image

And project. 

We are ALL

Looking for

The

Perfect

Beat. 

Pay Attention

I see faults...

Made visible

Thru

Patience. 

Dumping

Random

Thoughts...

Leaving room

For true faults

To present themselves

More clearly...

I hear them.

I feel the negative

Rubs. 

I'm grateful

And

Concerned.

Some of these

Have been in rotation

For a very long time. 

It's amazing

How powerful

Words are

When you

Pay

Attention. 

Day 2

Second day

Dodging

what's hurled

From inside

I survived

Another

Day

Far

From perfect

But perfect

Is a goal...

To exercise the soul.

For the day,

When its done,

What I did,

I now do.

Not for you,

But for me,

And you...

In a way.

More than one way.

But today,

I'm thankful

I stayed

On course

As best I could...

Far from perfect. 

Midnights

Midnights still wear me down.

Stomach unsettled. 

Mind fuzzy.

Eyes tired.

A steady hum

Reverberates

And I struggle

Listening

To others talk. 

Forced to be surrounded

By monitors

Shuffling

Trying to find

A comfortable

Position. 

My body aches

From lack of motion.

In my stomach

Is a commotion

My shit schedule

Is

Out of wack.

Been working shift work

Over 10 years

And I still

Can't find a rhythm. 

Perception

I see

You see

Two sides

One coin. 

Receive

Perceive

Deceive

Believe

Up my sleeve

Is nothing

But my arm. 

I lack charm

I lack tact.

How I feel is real

What I say from the heart. 

It's all true

No act.

Loud noise

A

Nuisance.

No stage

For

Performance

I perform

My duty

To

Provide

Security.

You

Have

Been

Made

Aware.

The side

You

See,

Has

Always

Been

Your

Choice.

Meaning

It was beautiful. 

Exactly

To plan.

Pat on the back

Atta Boys

Good Job

You da man. 

The hype's faded

The paint's dry

The trash collected. 

Anxious

To

Excitement

To

Satisfication

To

Retrospectives

What I did

Was

All vanity!

For me.

A test that I passed.

Now I'm stuck

In pergatory.

Why do I

Continue

To add pages

To an old story?

Why do I work

With fools

Who devalue

The collective?

Windows

This world

Holographic

What I see

Not me

Or us.

Stories

Fables

Allegories

Have built

A

Frame

Where

I

Can't find

My name

Who am I?

We?

Us?

I can't trust

You

To

Identify

The movement. 

We move through

The planet

Cus it's ours.

Now we have

To record

This movement

For

Social improvement

And

Meaning

To the motion.

That's labeled

Illegal

Immoral

Undocumented

Unwelcome

Invasive.

A new hologram

Is mandatory

Cus our story

Is not told.

Your stories convoluted

Cryptic

And lost its purpose.

I study

And

Repurpose

The

Tales

To

Link

Trails

That

Lead

To

Peace.

Bag of Shells

Had a bag of shells
That spilled
On the floor.
As I bent to scoop
Them up

I read "We at War".
I stared at the shells
Surrounded by mama earth
Scooped them up
Pockets full
And headed off to work.

Out The Air

Wiz
Caliph
My battery
@
10%
About to go dead.

My daughter's
'Bout To Perform
So I'm shut the phone off.

B-Boy Revisited

To Be A B-Boy

Took Work.

These Jerks

or Jokes,

Hide the Peace

That's Found

In the Sound

of the Perfect

Beat.

Da Streets Noisy

Boys n Girls

Playing.

Only Spraying

Was from Fire Hydrants.

Soup Cans

In the Hands of Babies,

Teenagers ...

Da Stages.

Da Peach Fuzz.

First Hugs.

Da Clipper Buzz

In the Hands of Pops,

Big Brother,

My Cousins,

My Boys ...

Da Kicks

Were Cleaned

Everyday Routine.

Da Discipline

To Be A B-Boy

Da Walk

W/ Your Crew

Was A March;

A Visual Machine

In Motion.

Battlemode.

Ready

To Explode.

Destroyed

Are the Images

Embeded

Are the Memories.

B-Boy

To Be A B-Boy Took Work.
These Jerks
or
Jokes
Hide the Peace
That's Found
In the Sound
of the Perfect Beat.

Da Streets Noisy
Boys n Girls Playing

Only Spraying
Was from Fire Hydrants.
Soup Cans
In the Hands of Babies,
Teenagers ...

Da Stages
Da Peach Fuzz
Da Clipper Buzz
In the Hands of Pops,
Big Brother,
My Cousins,
My Boys ...

Destroyed
Are the Images
Embeded
Are the Memories

In Da Minds
Of BBoys
When Babies
Da Eighties
Da Nineties
Da Seventies
Da Sixties

Don't Miss Me
You
Or
Us.

Pulse

Another pulse
Another cycle
Thoughts rifle
In my mind

Positive.
Gotta
Think
Positive
I'm positive
I think
Way
Too
Negative
For my
Own
Good

Own good
To
Own
Good
Making
Payments
Laid away

So when it's paid
For
I can
Sport
A new look
Paid for
With sweat
Tears, no blood

Don't want blood
To mark time
This cycle
Is
A
Pulse

We got laps to go fams.

Planet Rock

Just a taste
Lil sip
Of
The life
That I plan
Gotta
Cram
It all in
Life is short
Even shorter
Than
Yesterday
Plus a day
Denominator
Exponentiated
Chance is smaller
Probably
Probable
Probably
We got problems
But that sip
Solved a lot
And I know
What I got
Is beyond
A
Lil sip
Ishrock
Got a shot.