THIS COLOR BLACK

Black-the color
An array of confusion

Black the color
Slavery,discrimation
Diminished opportunities

black the color
poverty, slums
an isolated continent

black the color
afro hair-wild and uncontrollable
big and diminished

black the color
the skin trapped
screams of hell
darkness of the night-horror

black the color
a color of mourning-a show off to the dead
a send off-of darkness

black the color
a show of controversy
a taste of class
high class-iridescent black
a show-off!

This color black
Aint even a color
Just a shade
A show of irrepressible controversy.

ON PURSUITS OF DEATH

I sat wondering
What did they feel
What do they feel

Do they get to know
Who really loved them?
And how?
The one that cried the most?

What do they seek for?
What did they hope for?
Do their hope die as well?
Are they saddened by their meer fact that they will see the days light no more?
Or that they had unfinished matters on earth?
Or they find out they did not live to the fullest?

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Or are they happy they are gone
Not responsible for their own lives no more?
Happy they will not suffer the earthly suffocation
They will be at peace?
What do the dead think about?

A WRITERS PAIN

I haven’t been writing as much as would. Well as much as I want to anyway! and I apologize for that- for not giving you the stories you well look forward for every Monday. Well ,I would sit here and tell you of how I got really busy and lie to you that I would make it up with 17 stories of your liking and that I wouldn’t repeat that ever again. I will just have earned the name “liar” and I am not good at that so I will just tell you the truth.

The most basic reason I would give is I got drained. I got drained after a week of non-stop writing! Writing a script of mine, soon to be film. I got drained and exhausted and as much as the conversations in my head were interesting enough to put on paper, after taking my computer it just seem all too hard to put them into words. That is a writer’s pain.

When you have a great angle, numerous stories that just can’t come out of your head because you are going through a writer’s block is like waking up to a dark rainy day that seem to be constantly preaching doom for you, for the rest of your day, or like having to see the other half leave you with your broken pieces of your heart, or when you fall right before you’ve began…well clearly I’m not good at imagery but you get the point!

When you get too preoccupied and try to jot a few words down so you can try and convince yourself that your sole purpose in life is not just to tell stories so as to justify why you are not writing, why you can’t write! Writing isn’t just for the mood ,I could tell myself “get there ,take “le blanc”(my laptop’s name-yes it has a name) and write. Then I take “blonkie” (short for leblanc) and I open word and write a few sentences…that seem to make sense…

So the last time didn’t go as expected. Shit! my boner had me cursing myself ,my name damn even Jesus’!…and hers. In my room alone…I can’t forget about her, all this torment she’s caused me. I should have moved on…yes I should moved on…okay maybe after I check her whatsapp, she hasn’t texted since then ,maybe she is dead! well okay that’s far fetched…not dead maybe kidnapped…or sick…okay I’ll stop stressing. I take my phone and check on my whatsapp, her profile picture ,she’s smiling looking straight at me. She has a really good smile, those tender lips, her eyes…she is looking straight at me:)oh my Gloria I smile back 🙂

😦 Mmmh okay I think it could be anyone who’s checking it but still SHE IS looking at me:).Her status ”my power my pleasure my pain.”…wait isn’t that a song! Okay she was last seen online just 20 minutes ago…damn I just missed her.

“hey, how you doing” I send her a text, well it is not received yet. I zone off whatsapp leaving my net on, googling some stupid shit.

“hey hawayu!” Her message just popped!…

Or just a title IS MY COUNTRY INVADED BY SEASONAL PSYCHOPHANTS!

What is this that dwells in this country, what is this spirit that haunts people every after a few days passing****

And well the asterisk just ends it all. I get a bunch of unfinished stories all written down. This is more than a heartbreak, tornado, volcano shit even the P.E.V, because it is single handedly happening to one persons soul!!! When you feel you are detaching yourself from the very things that make you-you, sort of an athlete losing his legs, loosing words is the pain of a writer, losing expressions and the comfortable zeal that comes in spreading the word.

 

frustrated