About a life

Some people reach a place in time where they've gone as far as they can.
A place where wives and jobs collide with desire.
That which is unknowable and those who remain out of sight.
See what it is invisible and you will see what to write.
It was the invisible people he wanted to live with.
The ones that we walk past everday, the ones we sometimes become.
The ones in books who live only in someones mind's eye.
He was a man who was destined to go through life and not around it.
A man who was sure the shortest path to Heaven was straight through Hell.
But the truth of his handicap lay only in a mind both exalted and crippled by too many stories and the path he chose to become one.
His tragic flaw was his romance with all that he saw.
And I guess if people want to believe in some form of justice, then he got his for a song.

And were an epitaph to be his story he'd have a short one ready for his own.
He would have written of him on his stone:
I had a lover's quarrel with the world. -Robert Frost

Pinnacle

...If only it were that simple. Nobody knows what horrors I have saved the world from because people can't never see what never happened. All evils flow from independence, and independence is your choice. If I were to simply revoke all the choices of independence, the world as you know it would cease to exist and love would have no meaning.
This world is not a playground where I keep all my children free from evil.
Evil is the chaos of this age that you brought to me but it will not have the final say. Now it touches everyone that I love, those who follow me and those who won't.
If I take away the consequences on people's choices, I destroy the possibility of love. Love that is forced is no love at all.

Let me tell you one of the reasons why this won't make sense to you. It's because you have such a small view of what it means to be human. You and this Creation are incredible, wether you understand that or not. You are wonderful beyond imagination. Just because you make horrendous and destructive choices does not mean you deserve less respect for what you inherently are - the pinnacle of my Creation and the center of my affection.

Also, don't forget that in the midst of all your pain and heartache, you are surrounded by beauty, the wonder of Creation, art, your music and culture, the sounds of laughter and love, of whispered hopes and celebrations, of new life and transformation, of reconciliation and forgiveness. These are also the results of your choices and every choice matters, even the hidden ones.
So who's choices should we countermand?
Perhaps I should have never created?
Perhaps, Adam should have stopped before he chose independence?
You demand your independence, but then complain that I actually love you enough that I give it to you?
My purposes are not for my comfort, or yours. My purposes are always and only and expression of love. I purpose to work life out of death, to bring freedom out of brokeness and turn darkness into light.
What you see as chaos, I see as fractal.
All things must unfold, even though it puts all those I love in the midst of a world of horrible tragedies - even the one closest to me.

Story

I thought my testimony was less then holy,
I thought I was less blessed then my homies,
just confessing only
the big sins, I thought that was a badge of honor,
I thought that I had to have a story that was packed with drama,
But I aint ever been shot, no big crimes,
never smoked weed, never drank, I never did time, (no)
I grew up with both parents both cheering me on, teaching me basic things like no swearing (no swearing son),

It’s so apparent I came up in the church,
socially this is where I gave my worth,
learned to pray and assert
my self for God displaying its worth,
upon living without playing in the earth,
just the average kid,
you know the type that like to play in the dirt,
came home with dirt stains on my shirt,
reciting the same old verse,
at the table no games no hurts,
And I knew I was called before the day of my birth,
And its like that...

I aint got no horror story
God kept me in my youth I give him all the glory
I thought my story didn’t flow,
But now I know
the blood of the lamb has saved my soul
and that’s my testimony.

I aint no gangster (no) I aint tough cause of rap,
never been cuffed and stuffed in the back of a patty-wagon,
I aint never cuss in my raps,
I started gospel most aint accustom to that,

Let me get back,
when I was young I used to think I was corny,
Cause I aint grow up in the projects drinking a 40,
And I aint never had no thug dude sneaking upon me,
And every buddy had the name brand sneakers before me,
And it made me really mad
but as I bugged my mom and pops taught me never to chase silly fads,
they told me focus and bought me note books, I really had
brilliant parents they introduced me to Billy Graham

See I aint got no horror story
God kept me as a buck I give him all the glory,
In high school all the pretty girls ignored me called me church boy,
I wasn’t bothered normally though,
Sometimes I would hate living the life of a saint,
They saw the Christian boy and light right from the gate,
thought I would preach so they tried to escape
but I guess that’s just the price of pronouncing your faith,
and its like that...

I aint got no horror story
God kept me in my youth I give him all the glory
I thought my story didn’t flow,
But now I know the blood of the lamb has saved my soul
and that’s my testimony.

Don’t get me wrong I’m not saying I’m prefect,
Matter fact I took thoughts and conveyed about cursing,
I was saving my pain it was worse then it should have been
man I was ashamed just to say I’m a virgin,
plus I was too afraid to admit I was a Christian,
I spent most of those days trying to prove I was hip,
plus trying to prove I was cool, trying to move like a pimp,
My testimony wasn’t cool enough yet,
Then I came to my senses I put my brain to the scriptures,
Thought of how Christ was blameless to sinners,
He didn’t grow up on the corner fornicating with sisters,
A good Jew grew in favor of wisdom,
That gave me relief,
rearranged my belief
no longer thinking what I’m saying is weak,
I aint never been sprayed in the street
but saved by his grace plus raised to my feet,
And its like that,

I aint got no horror story
God kept me in my youth I give him all the glory
I thought my story didn’t flow,
But now I know the blood of the lamb has saved my soul
and that’s my testimony.

Truth

Morals
Values
Know-how-to's
Lose
Don't do's
Stand up
Fall
Bruise
Somewhere there
Hidden truths

C.nnecting d.ts...

Truth and honesty
Often at first hand
But later hard to see
Vision hazy
Thoughts don't agree
Tryin' to connect the dots
Desperately
Deal with it personally
Open up
Vulnerability

Out in the open, free you mind
Liberal thinking
Like one of a kind
Search for those answers
You want to find
Don't overthink nor get psycho
about meanings behind
To yourself; be kind. Unwind

Shhh...

Home

Crumbles I see as I look to the ground
Tryin' to hold together confidence I found
I just got lost in a blurry wood of confuse
Today I win. Tomorrow I loose.

How to grabe forever a steady solid that?
Only a secons I need for me to forget
I forget about that yesterday
Where message vaguely was trying to say;

The room of your heart is cozy and warm
Sun strays all over and colours cover charm
Furniture clean, windows clear
In silence it'll tell you: "Welcome home, my dear".

The system

For myself
I need to understand
That it not always is
On this or the other hand

My mind’s made up
Convictions to stand
I hold them up firmly
I’ll be the first in a marchingband

I need the freedom
I need the space
I need the dancefloor
To misbehave

I’m a radical
But not black nor white
Mix ‘em up: COLOURS!
Life is a discolight.

I tend to defense
Not let any rule rule
Don’t you dare “must” me
I’ll fight you, you fool!

I need the freedom
I need the space
I need you forever;
To get outta my face!

You system, you suck me
Into that narrow frame
You make me inhuman
To you be shame

Shame
Defines as poor to just ‘be’.
Stay underdeveloped
And let me just be me.

Sure, hold up the wall
I’ll bounch through them all
Cuz wherever I trip, step or stand
I know who’s holding my hand.

You

My heart goes out to the struggling. People who cannot even think beyond surviving. Any human, built like a miracle as we are - deserves worth and dignity by their neighbors but also by society.
My heart goes out to the West - for the ones who feel guilty all the time and out of overloaded emotion act foolishly. Mess up more than what already was.
My heart goes out to the corrupted. Poisened in their own troubled vision and who seem somehow robbed from sanity in soul and mind.
My heart goes out to the vulnerable. Who lack in whatever way to stand up for themselves. Litterly. I wish I could help you.
My heart goes out to the Third World countries. One day will come where there's no first, second or third world. We'll be one. Finally.
My heart goes out to the lonely. I might not know you right now, but I can't wait to grab a coffee in heaven.

The perfect heart

One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen.
The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.

Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said "Your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine."
The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing.
The people stared. "How can he say his heart is more beautiful?", they thought.

The young man looked at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed. "You must be joking," he said. "Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears." "Yes," said the old man, "Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you."

You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared. Sometimes I have given pieces of my
heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me.
These are the empty gouges -- giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?"

The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.

The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.

Blend in, white skin

So alone you snowflake fall
I see you drop so colourful
My heart still in the tropical
Split up, contraversial, yet so wonderful

Heavy sad my heart does bear
Sweaty sandals I want to wear
Dear loved ones about whom I care
This is my experience. Unique. Rare.

Missing the flow
and the way things don't seem to go
Now adapting to a world white snow
Knowing I'll conquer this feeling so low

Blend in with white skin
my learnt values, holding
diversities molding
Roof above my head?
Who cares, cement..tin..

In my soul You have Your home
Gently settle in my dark unknown
Bring thy Light in that of stone
Straighten paths so wicked grown
Home is where my heart is
Filled with Your love. Never alone.

Listing what is now prior
Eased heart's what I'm longing for
Kindly going against the "I want more!"
On my knees, You I adore

Simple mind, keep it cool
I choose boundary, You rule.

Confetti

Skinny little brats
Walking down Avenue A
Dangling their cigarettes
Their Independence Day
Tears like filigrees
Wear them on their sleeves
Nobody's main squeeze
It's thirty-five degrees
Poetry of ordinary life is what I live for
They just wanna be seen
They just wanna be heard...said
My words are like Confetti
And you never pick them up
They fall to the ground
I need someone to lift me up
So diaphanous so ephemeral
And all those bad words
They never learned in school
Groovy like my mamma was
In her black turtle neck
She was so high strung
She was so low tech
Poetry and tattooed dreams
And fourteen caret nose rings
The children of elite
Are trying to be street saying
My words are like confetti
And you never pick them up
They fall to the ground
I need someone to lift me up

Spelling Chequer

Eye halve a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea

Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh

As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee four two long
And eye can put the error rite
Its rare lea ever wrong

Eye have run this poem threw it
am shore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.

Music 'n Melody

Give me a beat
Break it down
Shake it loose
Freedom is what you need

Bust me a rhyme
Keep it locked
Bob your head
Rhythm man, is what you got

Split on the floor
Get up and go
Bounce it here, kick it there
Shake 'em dreads like you just don't care

Keep to the tune
Feel it flow
Get down, get low
If you've got the groove then let it move

Rick strongs jammin'
Drumset slammin'
Metal heads bangin'
Classicals dynaming

Step up the tempo
Techno got their heads all mental
R & B's got them sentimental
Inexplicable like everything experimental

Independant to be Indie
Al whirled up in your medley
Blues feeding te feeling sadly
That jazz taking me to places badly

Bob Nesta Marley says rasta,
should be deeper
Reggae vibes feeling like,
doing the Gully creeper



*Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.*
*Music is what feelings sound like.*

The sky laughs

The Sky Laughs.

Twice into the skies mine eyes gazed.
Thrice I look around and am amazed;
With curious eyes `nd sick surmise
My heart yearns for the sunrise
Sunrise and blue skies
With glitter lips and rainbow eyes
Where your sparkle flies
With sweet summerlies,
But still laughs the skies.

So shrill is the laughter,
Piercing than the chill of an alpine november.
Sending echoes and woes to souls that slumber,
Faint hearts herein impossible to number.
Vain skies, sickly sunrise...
How grave is thy despise,
How long will we wait for summer lillies?
Change soon your dailies.
But still laughs the skies.

The land is barren with brick and brair,
The undulating plains is now rare.
Soft winds are now dropt,
Forcing new life us to adopt.
But the scotching sun bites the melanin skin,
Making my flesh faint and leen.
Still i laze my gaze into the sky,
The ceiling under which i longed to lie.
But still laughs the sky.

Listen to the sounds from the underworld,
The sounds of ungerminated seeds
Propagated by inhuman deeds;
The saga is sure to outlive time,
Cause us to spend even our last dime.
Sounds, sounds of crashing forest trees,
Habitation of the honey making bees.
Laugh, laugh your heart out
And on the hilltops make your shout;
Maybe, maybe, you getting dumb!

By R.N. Fidanza & S.B. Officer

Crap

Crap it, snap it,
Or soon it will sag.
What am I doing?
Building a pedestal of morality,
Or facing off humanity.

Crap it, snap it,
Or soon I will fly.
But can my wings sustain the course?
Am I strong? Am I weak?
A must to formulate what I seek.

Crap it, snap it,
That none of us takes the blame.
Of searching that to be unfound
In free minds that are yet bound,
And stray in the abbys with no shame.

Time to crap it and snap it,
Out of the window it goes;
Now in the wind it blows
And so in my life that shows.
Tch! Tch! Will the show last?

Then let me crap it while you snap it,
Snap my fingers ‘til you say stop;
Our seats rooted at the top,
Far away from the common shop
Where fruits raise high
High in the sky to say bye!

By R.N.Fidanza & S.B. Officer