Words

"For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair, let a child run

his fingers through it once a day.

For poise, walk with the the knowledge

you'll never walk alone . . .

People, even more than things, have

to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed

and redeemed, redeemed and redeemed . . ."

I saw this in an email and am sharing. Nice words.

Just Phine?

If I were just phine,

I would hope I would treat all my brothers with
dignity and respect,
love them for who they are
treasure them for all the things they are not

If u was just phine
I would hope u would conduct yo'self in a way
that brought pride and adulation on your foreparents
not tarnish or sully their name

See,
a real sexy man
respects that some men are different
diffent sizes and shapes
hues and shades
that some have issues
that run deep as the Mississippi
if only
you was that person,
but you're not!

Walk a mile in another man's shoes
that's what I was always told
but there a moments
when I despise this niggas, nikkas, and whatevah thug
inappropriate name they wanna subscribe too
and yes you homo faggots boys,
most especially you

Why you always gotta be truning your nose up in tha air
actin' as if I am shit beneath your toes
why you act like you never had a mama
teach you better 'an that
You know you grandmama would be shaking her head
She accepted your ass.
so why you can except me?
Oh I forgot,
God gave you a lil more extra than me.
Gotcha.

Yeah fuckas,
I'm big, fat, a bitch sometimes
but I'm still a person,
why can you be real wit yo'self?
For real, for real?
See listen baby boy
your big dig is just that
them curves you got accentuating your frame
ain't shit if you don't have brains in between yo ears.

Oh wait,
but you think you do.
My bad.
OK, maybe you can articulate a sentence or two,
word!
But you are arrogant.
Stuck up
conceited
full of yo'self
Mr. Self Potification at your damn best
and while others will bow down
worship at the font of your glory
I chose to stand apart
kiss my mutha fuckin' ass
Like B says...
Bitch Boo Bye.

I invest no more time in you
none.
See, spent my whole life feelin' frustrated
cause I wasn't like you
whether cause I was thick
or cause God BLESSED me with love for a man
there was always sumthin.
But now,
I realize y'all just some tired
weak-minded individuals
and your look ain't gonna last forever
Uh uhnt
and someday
some man gon' look atchu
the same way you look at me
and I wanna be there
standing in the wings
laughin my muthafuckin' faggot ass
at your embarrassment

Bitch
You done piss'd me off for the last time
now step
git gone
I got better people to love
better men to respect
starting with myself
Ole Ian's gonna just fine...

Hey You!

Read in jest, because sometimes the only way to get through the storm is to do a humorous rant along the way and laugh your ass off... This is in response to some recent disrespect I've been receiving. It's not even worth blogging about, you know I will eventually...

Hey you!
Yeah you,
Ya cocky sonuvabitch!
Fucka!
Yeah, I'm talkin' to you bitch!
I know you think you oh-soooo-fuckin' better than me
cause Father God gave you blessings He didn't give me,
Oh well.
Here I stand!

Bitch,
I saw you starin' at me,
laughing,
mockin my mannerisms,
making motions like I was the fattest thing this side of Eden.
I know,
I'm a big boy...A BIG boy.
Gotta problem wit' dat?

Obviously you do.
Fuck off cum wad!
Neanderthal brain mofo. Did I even remotely express interest in your ass?!?!
Just cause I got casual wit'you,
friendly,
conversational-like,
doesn't mean I'm trying creep with you!

Nigga Please.
Cretin.

And exactly who are you to judge me?
Is all your shit in order?
I-don-think-so!
Aw hell nawr, it ain't!
See,
you so busy running around,
fucking ev'rything that moves,
proving yo'self to be a real Black man,
real Latin bruh,
you forgot one thing
I never said I was wanting you.

Yes, I might be a thick brother,
some say fat,
Yes,
I got issues, plenty of 'em,
but you know what?
That don' make me desperate,
I got some integrity.

Dear one,
I have way beyond your shallow image,
beyond that piece of rotten meat between your thighs,
I got my self-worth,
my self-respect!
Though it might be difficult to maintain some days,
I got it!

So see,
I might not be phine as wine,
be trim like Jim,
fabulous as you wanna be,
might not be turnin all the heads at the club,
but that's OK!
Cause I know where my heart stands.
Do you know even where your heart is at?!?!

So you do your thang,
and I'll do mine.
I wish you much love in the end though,
cause though you might not see it,
you're still my brutha,
and if you took the time to see it,
you'd recognize I'm not so bad,
just cause I 'on't look like you.
But thems your issues...

I pray someday you'll get it.
Get that the Creator made us all,
big, small, thin, short, fat, beautiful, not-so-beautiful,
and that the greatest thing there is to life,
is not fucking,
(who cares how many conquests you notched on your bedpost?!?!)
or how many friends you had,
but what good service you did while you was here.

A'ight?
So lemme take back my earlier 'fuck you.'
Replace it with a 'Bless You' instead
See sometimes I get angry,
but no harm,
cause when I touch base with me,
It's HIM I see,
not you,
clears away the facade,
opens doors...
(and they is opening)

On that note,
lemme step.
I got better things to do
than worry 'boutchu,
so wit dat I say
"Peace brother."
catch u on da flip....

By Ian Edwardson
-egane

12 May 2009

And Still, I Rise...

"Before I Knew Him"

Blogger note: Since a few of my co-bloggers on MALE have been brandishing their powerful works of poetry, I decided to further open the door into who I am by posting a few pieces of my own. Now for me, my poems are a private matter. Garbage really. I wrote a poem earlier this year in honor of Barack Obama's inauguration to the Presidency back in January. Piece of crap, but I tried my best.

So going through a little journal I keep in my nightstand, I found a poem I wrote three years ago about Napoleon. Surprisingly, there a great element of truth in what I scribbled. For those of you who've been reading the Axe long enough to know my trials and errors with my ex, what do you think?

I named him "Napoleon"
but perhaps "king" would have been more apropos.
With an air (or is "heir") apparent,
he walks with gentleness,
but stubbornness to a fault.
He challenges anyone who dares
give him a double take,
question his correctness or entitlement.

Perhaps in deeds,
the actions are unforgivable
but where else does on go
when seeking such dubious promises and empty hope?
Napoleon.

His is a fire that burns inside,
fueled with strange passions and oft white lies.
Something unimaginable yet mysteries.
He's the perfect Gossamer,
a hybrid creature,
there's danger beneath that smile.

Who else knows where he goes behind closed doors?
Who understands the dictates of his motivations?
My reason is a gift,
His are only afterthoughts.

No,
the passions are his alone,
launched into unusual tirades
but deeper lends the mystery
and I am curious all the more.
In turns,
his love can be greater,
most sweeter than honey and wine.

Though I glimpse him with one eye closed
this "king-child,"
How amazing in this short time
I've observed a man I want to call mate.
A lifetime of events
crammed in few sessions
(more than one person should experience).

The future may be,
but in time only will I really know
if someday I'll give pause,
and regret the past,
score myself for unwise decisions...

But today I live in the here
and the now
and all He does is makes me feel warm and right.
Let tomorrow worry about itself.

egane
Written about "Napoleon"
penned 26 July 2006
titled 21 February 2009

One Day More

.
My morning's darkness gives way to the light,
the haze of night is shaken from my sight,
and a whirlwind of thoughts soar,
take heed,
I ain't got time to be bored.

What day is today?
Is it tomorrow yet?
How long, how long, how long....
have the days been since that November night?
Come on already!
Just make it right.

What's going through my head?
Exuberance, joy, pride, hope, anticipation...
Got's no time to rest
time to get up from this here bed.

Words fail to gather to me now,
As I recognize the dawning of tomorrow
It seemed so far away,
the countless ticking hours,
slowly, slowly, slowly
Sixty days became fifty-nine days,
fifty-nine days became fifty-eight days,
and so on.

But at long last we are down to one,
Only one day more.
Yes, thank God Almighty,
its only one day more.

And when the 'morrow comes,
At noon a man will rise,
place his dark hand on the Bible,
and recite the Oath of Office,

Marking this tremendous American first,
January 20, 2009 will not be just one more day
in a season where light is scarce,
though it will be a cold Winter's mourn,
Americans and people around the world,
will gather and watch this moment,
and bask in the promise of new radiance

Riding on the words "Yes We Can,"
never forgetting the dark days past,
holding dear to the goals and the hope of our foreparents,
A grandmother will look at her grandchild,
a father take hold of his son's hand,
and with a few tears of joy,
they will celebrate together this installation of our new President,

Clinging to Barack's words "HOPE" and "CHANGE,"
We will forge ahead,
never forgetting those who came before.

Our Rosa, Martin, Malcolm, Thurgood,
our Chisholm, DuBois, Bethune,
Just to name a few names,
those among thousands who walked ahead,
We will not forget you,
Our day,
our one day more,
we hold you dear in our thoughts and our hearts,
you gave us inspiration when there was none,
tomorrow will be a celebration of you as well

For this child born in August,
who would later hear the words spoken on another August day
took up your mantle,
gathering that inspiration and rose up to the occasion,
and becomes America's 44th President,

That child,
Barack Obama,
represents your face of America,
a face not so new,
but symbolizing the face of a people,
a people who have been here since the beginning

Barack will take residence in the home built on the back of slaves,
hold an Office where many men before
had not always been so kind to America's darker skinned children,
But Obama's ascension to the Oval Office is a new dawn,
a time to put aside negativity.

For the dream has always been,
though oft times forgot,
this measure of equality
seems at long last,
that American has been given her due,

Too,
we are reminded Barack is not just for one group,
one set aside of individuals,
but for all Americans,
The Black, the White, the Latino, the Asian,
and our brothers who tread the soil long before
European settlers or slave ships from Africa
touched this continent....
Americans,
the tribes of the Native Peoples,
Native Indigenous Americans.

With respect,
I nod and bow my head in honour,
give thanks to you as well.
We who behold this marker in history,
Just like another set many year a' fore,
renew our promise in America,
that we are One.
That the whole is always greater than her parts,
is always best when united,

One people,
one mind,
though we come in different colours,
different creeds,
different faiths,
different genders, race, sexuality,
we are the cacophony of voices that becomes one.

Let's never forget what November 2008 brought,
let's usher forth renewed faith,
take courage to stop the ways of the past,
and bring on a new day.
It is our celebration,
it is our time,
our now,
how great, oh how great,
if we can only wait,
just one day more.....

written 19 January 2009
-Ian E.

Coal

by Audre Lorde

I;
is the total black, being spoken
from the earth's inside.
There are many kinds of open
how a diamond comes into a knot of flame
how sound comes into a words, coloured
by who pays what for speaking.

Some words are open like a diamond
on glass windows
singing out within the crash of sun
Then there are words like stapled wagers
in a perforated book—buy and sign and tear apart—
and come whatever will all chances
the stub remains
an ill-pulled tooth with a ragged edge.
Some words live in my throat
breeding like adders. Other know sun
seeking like gypsies over my tongue
to explode through my lips
like young sparrows bursting from shell.
Some words
bedevil me

Love is word, another kind of open.
As the diamond comes into a knot of flame
I am Black because I come from the earth's inside
Now take my word for jewel in the open light.

Ian's Love Wish

"In And Out Of Time"
- Maya Angelou

The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance...
our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out of time.
When the first stone looked up at the blazing sun and the first tree struggled up from the forest floor
I had always loved you more.
You freed your braids...
gave your hair to the breeze.
It hummed like a hive of honey bees.
I reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there....
Mmmm...God how I love your hair.
You saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.
Lost, injured, hurt by chance.
I screamed to the heavens....loudly screamed....
Trying to change our nightmares into dreams...
The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out
in and out
in and out
of time.

The cusp of greatness is at hand. There's a feeling of joy in my being, a sense of anticipation. Something is a'brewin in the wind. Call me silly, but my soul has taken flight! While there's no one person on the radar, I have a stirring. I've been alone for a long time. Jaded. Sour. Bitter. Disappointed. So many past relationships weren't worth a grain of salt. Yet, I have to have faith. Believe the possibility genuine love exists.

Love may not last a lifetime. It maybe days, weeks, only a few months, but the real deal is out there. Waiting. I just need to claim it. Ask Him to send it my way.

At this point in the my life, I want and need to let go of all the prerequisites. The foolish criteria. The "have-to be's". I open my heart to what God has in store for me. Whoever He has set aside, that was His choice. No one can take it away. And sure I question as to the gender, the race, of the individual, but love is love. I only ask that I be prepared for what I receive. I'll accept it.

Whether he turns out to be she, is white rather than black, I ask it be real. So real. Let the longing be a fire that runs deep. That s/he compliments me; is an extension of myself. And while I attempt to set aside the physical appearence, let their spirit shine through. Please send someone educated. Don't have to be fulla book smarts, but at least common sense. No more selfish materialistic know-it alls. Please let them be wise. Strong. Empowering, loving, genuine, spiritual, and giving... glowing with the light and radiance of God's Goodness. Let it be from the heart, not just from the loins.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't want passion, fires burning deep, taking us to new levels, but I also want a bond between our two souls. I'm tired of meaningless casual sexual encounters. Please let if be free from malicious intent. Abuse Deceit. Over materialistic desires. Selfishness. One and all maladies that kill the spirit. Let love blossom with fruit, though there may be rough days. Let the sun set with peace, never bitterness.

ThoughI despise weddings, I've always loved hearing this passage of Scripture read at them:

“Love is patient; love is kind and envies no one. Love is never boastful, nor conceited, nor rude; never selfish, not quick to take offense. There is nothing love cannot face; there is no limit
to its faith, its hope, and endurance. In a word, there are three things that last forever: faith, hope, and love; but the greatest of them all is love.”
-1 Corinthians 13:4

Indeed. And still, I deserve so much better than what I've settled for before. My days on this earth are numbered with each passing day; too short to be lonely, sad, or afraid. There is Joy in the morning. Let it be...

Brother Langston's Words...

I, too sing America.

I am the darker brother
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table,
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me
Eat in the kitchen
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed-

I, too, am America.

Langston Hughes 1924

The Negro Speaks of Rivers

By Langston Hughes

I've known rivers:

I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the

flow of human blood in human veins.



My soul has grown deep like the rivers.



I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.

I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.

I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.

I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln

went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy

bosom turn all golden in the sunset.



I've known rivers:

Ancient, dusky rivers.



My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

Fulfillment

by Langston Hughes

The earth-meaning
Like the sky-meaning
Was fulfilled.

We got up
And went to the river,
Touched silver water,
Laughed and bathed
In the sunshine.

Day
Became a bright ball of light
For us to play with,
Sunset
A yellow curtain,
Night
A velvet screen.

The moon,
Like an old grandmother,
Blessed us with a kiss
And sleep
Took us both in
Laughing.

Today.

On an ordinary day, such as today, Eternity began... Who's to say what was before Eternity, only one person may begin to know, and He isn't talking. Within his palms, he holds fortunes and futures. He sees dawns come, sees dusks go. Within time, there is no limit and Heaven was created with a single word. And it was good. On a walk through midnight, the stars give testament to the cause. They were diamonds when Odin was young. The is no foresight untold to them. They watched the angels crawl from perches above and dance with men, unlike the seraphs, who choose to remain at the door to Heaven, keeping their vigil. With the clouds and the sun, the gold in the street makes man drool with envy. For it is impossible to know such things until those gates we have crossed. When He looked down, He gave the logos new meaning. He breathed and it was so. And it was good. And on an ordinary day, quite like today, the extraordinary really did happen. Profound as it seems, the gods smile upon Him. They bowed before His radiance, knew of His truth, and coyed away, give heed to His Goodness. They watched, almost like we watch, and they smiled. Eternity began. And it was good.

"Let Us Walk Together"

Every now and again, I can find the inner poet and throw a few words together to make wonderful poem. Recently I was at a friend's house and saw a poem I'd written a number of years ago on prominent display.

The poem was a moment of beauty and creativity to celebrate my friend's birthday. I thought it was a nice sentiment, but never dreamed it would be something to proudly show the world. They cherished so much, its decked out in a picturesque frame. Wow! I'm touched!

I don't often share my poetry with others because its such meaningless drivel. I'm actually embarrassed by it. However, I'll make an exception in this case, and post what I wrote. Rereading it, the piece seems like a child's work, but there's heart and depth too. Well, it touched my often sour heart and made me smile. Here are the simple, uncomplicated words of a jubilant Darktomahawk rejoicing friendship.

Let Us Walk Together

My faithful friend through the years,
On this the anniversary of your birth,
Let us celebrate all that you are,
All that you give,
And all that your presence has blessed in our lives.

The smiles you give are of sunshine,
That hope that you give is like stillness of evening,
and with inspiration,
I write these words.

Cherished that the very thought,
That I am truly in awe of you,
And grateful that God has given me your friendship.

Each day that crosses your path,
May it be another demonstration of love.
May life continue to bless your steps,
Letting the Universe recognize that you are here,
With purpose,
With Destiny,
And with fulfillment.

You are the enlightenment and my treasure.

With the years behind and the days before us,
Let Us walk together,
You and I,
Friends and more than friends,
Knowing that you are my best friend,
and that I will always be here for you.

You were,
You are,
And Always shall be,
My salvation from the gloom and misery.

And I am better off,
Enriched by your life.

With prosperous reasons,
I wish for thee,
Long lasting joy...

Oh bless thee My friend,
My Love,
My Life...

Happiest of Birthdays!

"Still I Rise"

I Rise!
by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

"On The Pulse Of Morning"

On The Pulse of Morning
by Maya Angelou

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow
I will give you no hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance
Your mouths spilling words

Armed for slaughter.
The Rock cries out to us today, you stand on me,
But do not hide your face.

Across the wall of the world,
A River sings a beautiful song,
It says, come rest here by my side.

Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually undersiege
Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.
Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more. Come,
Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I and the
Tree and the Rock were one.
Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
Brow and when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.
The River sings and sings on.

There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing River and the wise Rock.
So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
The African, the Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
They all hear
The speaking of the Tree.

They hear the first and last of every Tree
Speak to humankind today. Come to me, here beside the River.
Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.

Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveller, has been paid for.
You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache, Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers--desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.
You, the Turk, the Arab, the Swede, the German, the Eskimo, the Scot,
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.
Here, root yourselves beside me.
I am that Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved
I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours--your Passages have been paid
Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, but if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
This day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.
Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out and upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.
No less to Midas than the mendicant.
No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, and into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

Casey At The Bat...

Philadelphia Phillies players hang on the dugout rail as they watch their team lose 4-2 to the Washington Nationals in the ninth inning of their baseball game Saturday, Sept. 29, 2007 in Philadelphia.

OK, so they lost one game this afternoon. While I'm bummed out about the loss this afternoon, all hope is not lost. We're still tied for first for the Division with the Mets, and if the Padres do poorly, perhaps there is the oft chance we could earn a Wildcard spot.

Never despair Phillies fans. Although the situation looks grim, never give up. Say an extra prayer to those Baseball Gods tonight. I'm going out for a drink tonight to wash away the pain of today's defeat; on National Television no less! I hate when Fox broadcast our games nationally. The announcers always seem to have a knack at the Phillies (or any Philadelphia major league sports team) look notoriously bad....

Casey at the Bat
By Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that —
We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat."

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat;
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt.
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped —
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted some one on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer has fled from Casey's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has struck out.

Damocles & The Sword Hath Fallen

And I have suffered in ways I never knew I could,
and at this moment when my heart is breaking,
watching your fall about to take place,
where there's nothing I can do to stop it,
I cling to they drama and intensity,
wanting to hold you even more than I should

The day is coming,
coming real soon,
when adversity will be upon your door,
and ne'er more will things be the same,
perhaps on a day like today almost noon,
the word will be spoken,
and in a heartbeat,
lives will be transformed

With every ounce of foreboding and dread,
tonight I wish I were dead
I cannot fathom how this pain will push us further apart,
taking moments of fun from my hands,
the blade will be swift,
the stains will not be in blood or tears,
but in residue of metal,
found only in the darkest of places

And on a street where the cyclops roams,
he'll search to reclaim his bounty,
to mend his undoing,
all the while taking strife and wanting escape,
and I,
the lone Ozymandias,
will witness demise of so many hopes and dreams

O sojourn to escape
the pain that bounds me,
to keep the secret,
yet in absence of truth
will that wrought day be more painful?
Will he know how I hold him dear?
Will he forget pastures and keep to newly brighter paths,
or is destiny a faith unbreakable?

O God bid me strength,
bind my words,
guide my deeds,
loose not my tongue on folly,
and let Your blessing pray thee upon he who needs you most.

Napoleon will always have his Waterloo....

Darktomahawk
16 May 2007

Riding Napoleon's Wave

I was too tired to blog last night. I was riding the wave of my continued birthday celebration. I'm a simple man and it doesn't take much to make me happy. Yesterday, I was invited over to dinner over my friend's house by his mother. Now by "friend," I mean someone who is very special and dear to me. Oh Hell, let's be honest, I'm damn happy in love with the guy.

Unfortunately, let's call him "Mr. Napoleon," couldn't be there because of prior commitments, but he sent me well-wishes and positive thoughts. Still, it didn't stop me from going over and breaking bread with his family. His family has been nothing but nice and kind and I only recently realized his mother is fully aware of how I feel about Mr. Napoleon. She's been dropping hints left and right and up until last night, I wouldn't confirm or deny anything. I mean his mother called call me to wish me a happy birthday before my own mother did. Hmm, that should've been my first clue. Lately she's been telling me how grateful she is I'm in her son's life and how much she loves me. She's almost like a second mother.

The situation with Mr. Napoleon is a bit complicated though. I won't explain the extended details but he's not exactly on the market right now (I'll leave it at that). Yet, from the sense I got from him mum, I think she'd be supportive if we had a relationship. Hmm, something to think about, but for now its not very plausible for several reasons. Plus I've been out of the dating arena for several months. A relationship with Napoleon would definitely be like riding a wave! Way intense. We're good friends and have had some casual sex here and there, but a relationship is another matter. Am I ready for something like this?

I can deal with casual, meaningless sex (maybe not so meaningless with Naps). I mean I've gotten used to the idea most of the guys I've been interested in lately aren't worth a good shit. Some of my hook-ups have been mind shuddering (blame the alcohol) and at best, forgettable (I'm always safe. Hell, I'd better be. I volunteer for the local AIDS Alliance. Wouldn't that be a slap in the face if one of their volunteers contracted HIV? Naw, I like living too much).

Still dating again, especially with Napoleon, is appealing. I'm older now and I need to settle down. I'm simple as I've said, but I have a deep serious nature. His heart is very tender and he is one of the sweetest people I know. He makes me laugh (always a plus), he keeps me loose, and always keeps it real. There's not much pretentious about him. We've similar backgrounds and there just a connection I feel with him I've never felt with anyone else. He's the first black man to help me put away the nagging questions and guilt for being a "Same Gender Lovin" African American man. He's been beneficial in changing my perspective that I could be in a long-term committed relationship with a man and be happy.

Mr Napoleon wouldn't necessarily be the best choice for a mate though. There are just too many reasons why getting involved with him would be a colossal mistake, but damn, the sex is good. Yeah, I know, I'm old enough to know better. Sex doth not a relationship make. His has a darker side, which can be a bit uncontrolled. Napoleon's temper tantrums that could match any "terrible two" year old child. Also, at times, he's a bit selfish, materialistic, and naive about life in general. He could stand to "age up," realizing not everything is just going to fall into his lap. My, my, my Naps sure could stand to realize there is no such thing as 'self-entitlement.'

Keeping it real further still, Naps is half-ass involved with someone else. Apply the breaks! Yup, dating someone else (yeah I know and I'm acting the whore by screwing around with on the side). I'm an asshole I suppose, but my heart and emotions are telling me one thing, and my intellect is telling me another. I guess my illusions to a possible commitment with Mr. Napoleon stem from the void in my life I can't seem to fill.

More on this situation as it develops...

And Then Reality Set In

If I was better looking,
perhaps he'd look at me

If I was more confident,
perhaps he'd notice me
For if I could shower him
with gifts and riches,
perhaps he'd consider me worthy

Not without a doubt,
if I had washboard abs,
he'd torn asunder and give me have a glance

The best of all I have to offer is not enough
My words too tepid to his ears,
My actions ineffective,
My deeds and love too hollow,
desire is not a spark in his furnace

I can only ponder,
some dreams simply aren't meant to be

Dream

"Dream"
by Langston Hughes

Last night I dreamt
This most strange dream,
And everywhere I saw
What did not seem could ever be:
You were not there with me!
Awake,
I turned
And touched you
Asleep,
Face to the wall.
I said,
How dreams
Can lie!
But you were not there at all!