Movement is necessary

Ladies and gentlemen transition is what life is all about, growth development, and progression are what makes it beautiful for that reason I will no longer be writing on this blog. Partly because it was too hard to update and write here so I will be moving to Tumblr.com feel free to journey with me there at http://thepoetryoflife.tumblr.com/ I hope you have enjoyed these chapters as much as I have enjoyed transcribing them, it's now time to turn the pagae.

Letter's to my lover: What comes with me.

First I would offer her my heart. A baseline that would coincide with each breath she takes, creating music that only the two of us would move to. She would hold the key to the door that only my Father and family have access to, and in it she would find the fullness of me, my insecurities and my limitless possibilities, my fears and the courage to face them, the malice and discontent I have received and the love and compassion I hope to return. She would hold my heart with the knowledge that she could scar it and with it me for life if handled improperly, or care for it in ways that cultivated a strong beat than ever experienced from those who once experienced me.

Secondly she would be privileged to receive the privilege of a man, something seemingly scarce now days, strong enough to love and commit more than sweet words or good intentions. She would receive my focus, a ffocus on more than her figure or physical features, a focus on her habits, her movements, and her manner while marveling at God's work in creating such a wonderful and complex creature.

Others often compliment words, but she would receive my tone, my voice, my pitch and as she inspired me my sentiment. Our interaction would be living breathing poetry, seamlessly transitioning between metaphor and simile, creating sonnets that inspired others to love again. Together we would create words that defied definition and speak in a language of motion and feelings, a language that would universally understood.

Sensually she would receive fingertips caressing her gently in places and positions that I won't mention. A kiss that would leave time tired and she went to sleep we would creep past midnight into the hours of the dark, where one of our senses was no longer needed which would only heighten our others so that we experience bliss on an inexplicable level. We would not make love we would make harmony. At times quiet requiring no sounds but the inhalation of anticipation and exhaling pleasure as we descended into her depth until her well ran dry, while I filled once again with pleasurable moments.

Lastly she would receive my appreciation because I would be the lucky one, for only a privileged few receive the wonderful gift that comes when you have a lady. I only offer the simple things and yet it's funny the simple things in life often bring us the most joy, while simultaneously baffling the masses. I guess that's the privilege of being my lady.

Thought of the Day

Why do we try so hard to impress those who have no interest in us, yet neglect those who are moved, inspired, and blessed by us simply being who we are?

I would love to hear your thoughts.

Letters to My Love Her: My First Love-The First Time I Knew

After our first encounter, I knew you would love me forever, that we would share something no one would understand but us, it was our connection, our bond, I was always on your mind, as I formed my thoughts about you, I became your heart, as my heartbeat grew stronger for you, and after much anticipation I was finally introduced to you, and these eyes had never seen anything more beautiful. How I was blessed to be with someone so wonderful was awing, and it was then I knew I was falling, for my first love.

How do you capture a dream?

How do you capture a dream?
Do you grab it?
Do so too quickly and it slips through your hands.
Do you embrace it?
Squeeze to hard and you crush it.
No dreams, like passion, must be catered to,
taking time to cultivate each and every element, with unwavering attention,
It must consume our entire being until as natural as breathing,
inhaling the thought, and exhaling the manifestation,
so that each moment becomes memorable,
After all what is passion except a strong desire which moves us to act,
And what are dreams At their core except things we desire,
So don't just find your passion live it.

A New Flavor

So today was my first taste of salsa and I must say it was tasty. Full of flavor, spice, and passion. It's my hope that everyone knows I mean the dance and not the condiment.



My homie took to me La Pregunta, a small bar and cafe on 153rd and Amsterdam, for lessons. We arrived a little late and everyone was in line waiting to be paired up fellas on one side and ladies on the other. We quickly moved to the end of the line. The instructor explained that he would teach us the basic steps, we would then add music, then the ladies would rotate each time. We began three steps forward...5,6,7, three steps back...1,2,3. Then we added a turn and a spin and finished off with 5,6,7,1,2,3. Some of my partners were great teachers, others were beginners like me, and several tried to lead me (which was a humorous exchange) but after a few times I was moving pretty well. The lesson ended and we moved off of the dance floor to rest and the professional stepped on the floor.




When you watch these two people interact with each other it's not hard to see the sexual innuendo presented by this exchange. The movement is sensual, man guiding woman, woman being guided by man and for four minutes two becoming one, moving together to create beautiful movement. Well idealistically. I seemed to fumble around trying to get the basics down. But give me a break it was my first time and we are all awkward the first time. ;) but with practice I'll be making a new flavor.



PS The reason the pictures are blurry is because they capture movement.

A Pause for Prose: Shades over the Soul

It was a beautiful sunny day- fitting considering it Easter Sunday, and I was on my way to Brooklyn Flea Market. I looked up and my eyes encountered beautiful young lady stepping on the train; demur, feminine, and demanding attention, with shades on. I watched her and wondering what she was concentrating so hard on. She briefly looked at me or in my direction before she got off the train and I begin to wonder.

If the eyes are the windows to the soul why do we consistently cover them up? Are we then afraid of what others may see in us? Or are we afraid to show our souls to the world? It such a shame that we hide such a beautiful piece of ourselves from each other. Aside from the physical beauty of eyes, eye contact allows us to connect with each other in unspeakable ways. "At that moment when our eyes are locked in silent communication, we are, in essence, touching." -Debbie Bailey. Have we become so disconnected with others, and so self absorbed that we are afraid to touch someone with a pleasant look?

Sure shades have their function but it seems like recently for most of us that function is to protect our looks our expressions and pieces of who we are. Interestingly enough we are willing to expose so much of ourselves today, but are unwilling to convey the thing that gives insight to who we really are. With our windows open who knows who may enter our souls.