Birth Pain

Contrary to what they try to feed us

We all start out as a fetus

Woman births man

Man births gun

Gun births bullets

Bullets birth tears...

No birth is easy

There is always pain

Does the gun cry

Does the gun scream out for its babies it could never birth again

Like a mother giving birth to 16 children...

What's post partum for a revolver like... 

Is it regret

Is it shame

Or pride for each bang?

It only takes a few seconds to switch from one recently fertile clip to a fresh one ready to make babies of its own- 

Talk about speedy recovery.

Automatics dont know how to quit giving birth

They scream and scream and scream

Til their canal is molten red and smoke drifts to heaven 

Can they smell gun smoke up there with all the ones sent there BY guns?

Are the children of Sandy Hook warming their hands by the same gun fire that the children of Robb Elementary do?

The looks on their faces they must have had. Talk about ' Me Too '.

The last things they must have heard...

The last things they must have thought...

One minute I'm new to this world and the next I'm back in the stream of consciousness i came from...

To live shock and awe but too young to understand the reference...

How can you be anti abortion AND pro gun at the same time when a baby's adult future is aborted at 6 weeks or six years what's the difference? 

We can't abort school shooters like we couldn't abort fetus Hitler but a gun purchase should be aborted if it's by a mentally unstable purchaser bent on bringing the pain of hell to 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th graders...

Like many of us

Bullets leave their parents too fast

To get to know their parents. 

They don't know where they're going or where they came from

But they won't stop 

Til something drops

Too far gone

To look back to the parents it came from

The bullet lives half a second

But mom and dad keep going on...

A gun cant be anything but a gun...

Bullets cant be anything other than a bullet...

History can be a teacher or a slave driver...

The truth can be a key

Or it can be an invisible 800 lb gorilla shrouded in nuance and mystery awaiting enough third eyes to bring it into universal reality

Or the truth can be a gun in the hands of everyone

Pointed at the temples of self we worship

As we hold our collective selves hostage to history

But if you ask if we've learned anything

All you will draw is collective blanks. 

Stares from one empty cranium to another

No power for those with thought

And ONLY thoughts from those with power. 

History is the cruelest 

To the surviving parents

A true slave driver

Cracking the whip so loud it hollers

As if they need a heartless reminder

That we as a SOCIETY

Let down their son or daughter

Because we don't live to protect each other

Or we wouldnt allow retailers to profit from legally facilitating MASS murder. 

Notice I said WE

You and me. 

We create our killers

We elect our leaders

We call ourselves a civilized society 

Though there are more guns than people in this country.

But there isn't a militia in the world capable of defeating the United States military. 

Imagine you and me versus the U.S. military. 

Would it matter if we had 1 gun or 50?

Nope. 

We'd lose just like the babies from Sandy Hook and Robb Elementary. 

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

#QUORIZMA #NEOETRY #POETRY #SandyHook #RobbElementary #SchoolShooting #GunViolence

#Neoetry on the Flizeye 2

Yeah it's Quorizma

Mobbin through ya area

Makin niggas sick

Like I got malaria

I am not an Amazon

But this is Audible trauma 

You could come back with Jesus

And I still wouldn't be scared of ya

Fearless like a tiger

I'm a dope writer 

They say I'm too bright

A not-your-type writer

But I float like a butterfly

And sting like a fighter 

I'm all you wanna be

Like Muhammad Ali.

I grew up slangin Watchtowers 

Now I love to fornicate

When I step out the shower.

Titties in the air 

Head against the board

Pussy pissin everywhere

Cervix screaming for more. 

I get classy

But love to keep it nasty

Married three times

But like Ghost

They still couldnt trap me.

Proud to be single

Too dangerous to let the dick just mingle

Strapped up like a taped double cup

More sausage than Pizza Hut

Nut tattooed to her butt

She called me Superman

When I climbed her tree

And beat the kitty up. 

Dumped in her truck 

Like a firetruck

Anytime I want

I can just pull up.

Cant make any sense of this scene 

Pick a side and join a Mean Dream Team

Not average schemes

Apocalyptic biblical dreams

So prophetic 

But I refuse to be evangelistic

While babies are hungry

And the sick stay sick.

Fuck the vaccine 

I've always been a prick.

Masked up like bandits

Robbin a stagecoach full of Corona

But we're still stuck with it.

For heaven's sake

We're still drunk off it.

Psychological strip tease

I'm a beast

With these lyrical memes

I got one hand and two thumbs

Locked and loaded

Strapped with neurons ready to fire

Like I AM World War 3

I fought demons

And devils 

Hell bent on gaslighting my psychology 

But I got a third eye

Giving me revelations 

The Apostle Paul wouldn't believe 

Experience synchronicity pursued-

This is to be continued....

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

#QUORIZMA #NEOETRY #POETRY 

#NEOETRY ON THE FLY 1

They said that bodily training was beneficial for a little

I'm standing next to this machine putting the pedal to the metal. 

It's a hard rock life 

For us

It's no justice 

NO PIECE

Of the pie 

And it's robbing me of 

Any peace.

I just need to release.

Banging my head against the bed

Of my mistakes

Making love to this iron 

And stacking up my plates.

I'm hungry

 

Feeding the wolf inside of me.

 

The third eye of a tiger

Fuckin guiding me.

This is not a dissertation 

More of a soliloquy 

Written by none other

Than Yours Truly...

Best believe me...

I'm rarer than a

Box office Trilogy.

Real like

Harriet

On the Twenty.

I'm the Black Swan 

Instigator-

Dragon fire 

I stay breathing 

As I conspire

To change the game

And break mental

Barriers 

Blocking my energy.

The trauma cycle-

 Draining

Life experience held hostage

By my ignorance.

To say my relationship status is complicated 

Is an understatement.

Lost Lesley cause that chick 

Put a hickie on me in the basement

I was so ashamed to admit it

Tried to hide it

But my skin so bright

Divinely highlighted

No cappin

12 years later lost Izzy

Because the same thing happened....

Bright skin problems

Yeah I got em

If she gave me a shot

Like Steph Curry 

I shocked em

Came in the game breaking headboards 

Like Shaq did backboards

Kobe in the sack

Grabbin her titties

They love my RACK attack.

Relationships sink

Faster than loose lips

Like hoola hoops 

Falling off the hips

Jumpin through emotional hoops

Like Back to the Future

Fighting paradoxical time loops.

I keep tickin

Clockers stay clockin

But cha boy 

Just stay rockin 

Like a crooked 

bell bottom 

Your ding don't sway

And your dong don't swing 

Like the #Neoetry I bring

Verbally exorcising Like a demon 

I'm #Quorizmatizing

Fuck bein a priest 

This ain't proselytizing 

Never worked on a doctorate

But my neurons 

Stay theorizing.

I put the C in class

Even though I graduated at the bottom 

I put the G in grass

Even though the chiggers were gnawing on my scrotum

I put the D in ding a ling 

Cause that's just how my balls swing

I put the E in everything

And gave my self an A

Because I dont have to explain anything.

My word is my game

Bonded and rooted by my

Deoxyribonucleic juices 

Passed down from my tutors 

Even though my history was neutered 

By the incompetent impotence

Of massa's remaining students.

Who needs math?

I AM the problem.

©️2021 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

#QUORIZMA #NEOETRY #POETRY 

Thirsty Dreams

Thirsty for knowledge like a sponge in the desert 

Suffocating for wisdom like black needing the night

Searching for purpose like a cake for a palate

Diving for destiny despite the trickery

Self manipulation is plaguing me

Slipped and got a banana stuck in my tailpipe 

Cant burnout without smoking up my mind's eye

All my energy blocked up like Hoover damned my chakras to a reservoir of lies

What I see I despise 

Slowly my dreams are beginning to materialize like a butterfly in a cocoon 

I tried to bloom too soon

To be a god

I had to turn goon

Instead of depression stalking me

I staked out depression

And escaped a religious prison 

But got swallowed up by the system

Kept talking to God

Even though I couldnt hear Him

Even though I didnt wanna listen

I paid the cost to be lost in the sauce

Still he never left me 

Full of unholy imagery

That would never become reality

Blessed to see my progeny's progeny

Despite me and in spite of me

I will see them

Do better 

Than me

Praying they keep searching for wisdom

Like a diver for pearls 

Like a pirate for silver 

Purpose delivers

From discontentement 

And disillusionment 

To holy ground 

They will find it.

Praying they dig deep in their hearts

Dont get caught up in societies desecration of their art

Standing in who they are

Never pretending to be 

Who they ain't and cant be

Proud of what they intend their lives

To be

Spiritually.

The truth is the truth

You reap what you truth

Karma cant lie

I am what I created in my youth

Mirrors always reflect what was

Every millisecond is a blessing

Once the image is shattered

It is gone forever

And will never be again

Eat, drink, smoke, love, and be merry

Live like today

Is the last of your tomorrows

When the dream ends

Nobody knows....

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA

#QUORIZMA #NEOETRY #POETRY 

Mama Do You Pray For Me

Mama do you pray for me

There's a bear that keeps stalking me in my dreams

Mama do you pray for me

My tragedies are stalking me

Mama do you pray for me

I dont recognize the image staring back at me

Mama do you pray for me 

I'm not the man I thought I'd be

Mama do you pray for me

I'm not the son i should be

Mama do you pray for me

I cant find free

Mama do you pray for me

Your boy turned man thinks Baby

Mama do you pray for me

Thanks for getting Daddy off of me- that one time

Mama do you pray for me

Mama do you pray for me

Mama I need you to pray for me

Say my whole name at the altar

45 and I'm stuck at Gibraltar 

Searching the seas to find my purpose 

You see in me 

Mama I'll die when you stop praying for me

My breath was first breathed outside of you and ever since then the only time I feel like I'm home is when I'm beside you

You breathe I breathe 

Mama breathe life back into me

If you stop praying for me

Mama dont stop praying for me

I need your prayers like I need G O D

Your prayers are the ink I bleed

When writers block gives me blood clots like ink blots clogging my heart trapping my thoughts in a space jam with no music.

Mama do you pray for my green lights 

Pray I see the dawn of progress and cruise through the suicidal course between dusk and twilight 

Mama do you pray for me

Prayers from you fill my tank with godly energy I cant see but flows through me freely following me like a trail behind a snail crystallizing my past in a Hall of Shame and Plans Derailed spelling out the letters H E L L

Mama do you pray for my soul

Mama where you go I wanna go

Mama do you pray for me

Mama do you pray for me

Mama do you still pray for me

Mama dont pray for me...

Pray for your grandchildren you never get to see....

Mama...

 

Mama...

 

MAMA!!!

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

#QUORIZMA #NEOETRY #POETRY 

De Press Melodee

I can sit and I can spin in my own circles

My mind keeps racin and the clock keeps ticking

Counting down to a fade like a barber 

God keeps perfect timing 

I wont miss my dead line

Addicted to procrastination

Stagnant situations 

Sticky contractions pushin out my fantasies

Nothing in front of me shows up clearly

Everything is distant and blurry

My heart is my logo

None of my shots are free throws

They're all long like Steph Curry

I got 3 points left

0 seconds on the clock

The rim is so salty

Cant take me with me

I been sober so long

I cant remember the forgotten me

Strung out on the streets

In a domestic chasin foreign pussy

Pussy that defined me

Pussy that strangled the I out of my identity

Didnt I see this me

Trapped in a loop like Dormamu

I'm not a Dr but Strange looks in the mirror 

Got me reciting hypocratic oaths to myself as i shake and shiver

Birth of a winner

Blood pressure still high from eating frozen Hungry Man chicken dinners

But I'm still hungry 

No sustenance can sustain the beast in me

This road is meant for struggling

Not for traveling

Walkers walk

Talkers talk

Riders end up in chalk

Playing above the rim 

Is where the eagles soar

Picking up my lip off the floor 

Words knocked out of my subconscious 

Pages torn from my journal 

Bout my journey

Of distractions 

Like the cities on a map

Stuck living life in 2 dimensions 

Somethings missing 

And I know it doesnt make sense to be this lost

I wish I paid attention when I could afford the cost....

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

#QUORIZMA #NEOETRY #POETRY 

Memory of Happy

Riding the merry go round

Swinging so high I turned upside down

Fishing til the sun burnt my face

Occasional snake slithering near my chosen space

70s R&B on WDIA AM radio

Maybe a tidbit of the Paul Harvey Show

All the crawdads we could eat

Mosquitoes biting everything but my feet

Enough cousins at reunion

To give grandparents fits of confusion

A fan in the window

Green trees turned to shadow 

Moonlight pure as a dream

Shoeless double dutching 

Cranking mowers to cut familiar grass

Raking leaves into large Glad bags

Skipping rocks and maybe school

Loved breaking rules

Come in from the rain?

Only if there's lightning mane

I'd be remissed if I forgot to mention 

Yearly District Conventions

Even the Memorial broke the monotony

Shoney's was the after party

Only so many ways to remember happy moments long gone few and far between the moments of blessed boredom. 

Not able to define gratitude for all taken for granted. Too focused on harvested seeds of anger that were planted.

Walking in a shadow perfectly... sorta. Just a couple degrees off but there's no college for nightmare hoarders.

They say focus on the good, it wasnt all that bad, and at least you HAD a dad. I did. I had a dad and it wasnt all good and it wasnt all bad but I had a dad that was never going to be glad I was his firstborn son if I didnt choose to fit the vision that HE had and my dad never saw nor cared that every single day I was at school being 'bad' because every single day I spent with him I was so sad. 

Happiness is an abstract concept to a child that hasn't been neglected but willfully and presently abandoned to someone else's version of happiness that makes no sense to them because it chokes their very soul from their lungs. 

How many scriptures and belts tied around my neck and drug with me from The Theocratic Ministry School to the bottom of the Walker Park swimming pool?

So many songs that couldn't lift the spirit of a ghost. "We're Jehovah's Witnesses" was the one I enjoyed the most.  'Men make gods of wood and stone...' But purpose was a god unknown.

Knocking on doors with sleeping dogs and barking humans behind them kept my nerves in a constant state of wracked like being a Saturday morning alarm clock with the face of a cat. 

For my first 15 years I did that and more and for ten years more I did a dance back and forth that defined me to my core until 2004 when I decided I couldn't take it anymore and I superglued shut that revolving door.  

I did what any other captive aware of their captivity would do. I escaped my prison of sadness and enslaved myself to a journey of inner happiness. 

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA

#QUORIZMA #NEOETRY #POETRY 

SALVATION

How does God save me 

From me...

What pole

Do I have to jump on

To strip off this old

So I can put on the New

Personality....

Draped in exquisite iniquity 

I stay fresh to death

Sacrificed mental health

Always hungry for more sin 

Makin up metaphors

For you to believe in

But I'm really trying to write myself

Out of these hidden dungeons I'm draggin

Praying for forgiveness

Instead of wisdom

I worshiped blissful ignorance 

My flesh deteriorated 

Positivity exfoliated 

Whenever someone offered help

I hated it

In Loving Color

Two snaps in a circle

Abandoned my baby brother

To a cradle of devastation

But now he's the chef 

In a Little Rock Fire Station 

While I'm still toting the same boulders

On my shoulders

Tears keep putting the fire out in my heart

I get older

And it gets colder

Poetry be to me

What key be to lock

These rhymes unlock

The collar that tied me to the block

Grateful to not 

Be where I was

Hateful enemies

Cant get credit for creating Quorizma

But where would I be 

If they didn't fuel me?

Somewhere cussin at Jehovah

Drowning in misery

Like I jumped up and landed

In a bottomless pastry

Convinced my addiction

Is a mystery

When I'm really just a genius

At disguising repeated inner stories

I keep telling myself

I'm going to improve

And get some help 

But struggling

Started giving my life meaning

Struggling to find meaning

In the struggling

Distracted me from breathing

So I started zombieing 

But I am a spiritual being 

Resurrected focus

Floating like lotus

Eating honey with locusts

Prince turned to frog

Writing on my lily pad

Pen light leading me out the fog

To Freedom-

The most precious goal I have. 

Lifted hands

Cant gaslight God 

Reads my heart 

As I write each thought

The Lord is my Shepherd 

He know what I want.

Which is the last thing I need

More of that same ol thing

Instead of o bay ing

More drifting

On a crowded sea

I already know how this water falls

For fallen angels

Duty calls. 

The perfect image

Of imperfection

Excuses are deflections

Obstructing my reflection

Impervious to building purpose

Impossible to rekindle focus

Consciousness requires constant maintenance

And sometimes I act like I don't know this

But I do....

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

#QUORIZMA #NEOETRY #POETRY #SALVATION

Driven Infatuation

Infatuation is a cold hearted sexy bitch. 

Steals from the poor and gives to the rich. 

Leads hearts like the Pied Piper

From one break to another.

At least envy is one color. 

Infatuation is the whole box of crayons melted together. 

An explosion of hues

Designed to discombobulate and confuse. 

A forest hiding a forest hiding a forest

So happy to just be lost in a forest lost in a forest we completely ignore it.

Trees stand taller. 

Rain feels wetter. 

Impulses uncollared. 

Pain makes it even better. 

Infatuation sticks to a fool like glue. 

Sticky situations become more toxic than Mountain Dew. 

Name a time your heart beat harder. 

Blood thick and warm rushing through your veins like a Dodge Charger.

Hormones growling to the tune of a Hell Cat

Your itches love the way infatuation scratches 

It's a must that you experience more and more of that.

Funny thing though about this cold hearted infatuation. 

It's like driving a super car on premium that cant stay away from the gas station. 

When the rush is over and the store is closed reality sets in the tank of your mind and you're stuck on the side of the road alone. 

Suddenly what was fueling is now infuriating you. 

And even though you know you should just leave that car you get out and start pushing but nobody wants to push what seemed to be unstoppable all on its own.

By the time you give up and finally call a tow truck you realize right then and there that you haven't even gone anywhere. 

Accepting that you were actually going backward makes things even more awkward. 

It's cool to go fast but sometimes we need to get out and walk so we can save time and not just waste it burning gas. 

Smell that? That's not oil burning. That's insecurity. 

See that? It's not a cracked windshield. It's codependency. 

What's that in the mirror? Looks like you and me headed off a cliff of uncertainty...

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

#QUORIZMA #NEOETRY 

Jaded Triggers

Jada cocked the hammer

To Will's trigger

No time in the slammer 

For an Academy Award winner

That couldnt be bigger.

The shock awed me

What did I just see?

I've yet to see this face

Partly amazed 

Mostly displaced.

Words wouldnt come

No sentiment to gleen thought from

Just a loss

And immediate concern for the long term costs

Adults made a lot of noise

But no sound will erase that slap from the psyche of millions of boys

For many girls

The Fresh Prince was close to the center of their world

Now the poster couple for dysfunction 

Once the image of happiness 

Now its sadness deconstructed

Playing out in the court of public opinion

Once again dividing the tribes

Over why violence was his chosen decision 

Anyone can be pushed to the edge

Despite trying so hard to not lose their heads

Especially when the pusher and pushee share beds

Or when the pusher 

Shares their bed

With their son's friend and they became lovers

Welcome to the Red Table of Deconstruction and Emasculation-

Sadly what became Will's greatest source of meme generation

And now the videos wont stop surfacing

Highlights of toxic femininity. 

Chris had to be a rock

Amidst the awe of his own shock

His sin

Havin someone's wife's name in his mouth

Despite what HER mouth was doin...

Misplaced anger

Is always a danger

Forces us out of character

Ignores causes and blames strangers

For our own wretched behavior. 

What's worse?

The perpetuation of stereotypes in one swift thrust

Playing to the fears of those that see black men as only threats and clutch their purse

Or

Belief that this is the way to defend your significant other

Even if it's brother on brother

The hell with the culture

It's ok to set us back 

To the days they watched us kill each other?

Where there's a Will

There's a better way. 

Now I'm jaded.

Interest fades by the day.

Someone told me 

"You should watch The Red Table.

It's really educational."

Really?

I find their open displays of dysfunction

To be more than hypocritical.

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

Verse In Time

Misuse of my time restriction

Is my worst affliction 

Spinning my seconds

Going in the wrong direction

A time thief

Where is my prison

Trapped in my mind

Like rainbows inside prisms

I make room for the mundane

Blinded by doubts 

So the status quo stays maintained.

Got to get up with the sun

Before my heart disappears

Like the steam over rice 

When it's done.

Only so many beats in a day

Tunes of my dreams 

My imagination is the stage 

Where they play

To an audience of invisible mes

Finger snaps like the flashes 

From the paparazzi 

Each bringing me back to reality...

Heart beat 

Woke feet

Banging my tongue 

Against the walls of my cheeks 

Like bands parading

New Orleans's streets.

Focused on internal rivalries

Diversifying my energies

Building a portfolio

Invested in my own philosophy 

Tracking my progress

Is my success

Fueled by rumors

Like the Monster Lochness 

There's more to my skin

Than what's on the surface.

Writing is my therapy

I dont have time to lay down

I function at my highest level

When I'm scripting my verses. 

Me versus me

Just me against the old me

Kissed yesterday good bye

So I could make love tomorrow

Or do I mean today 

Either way

I'm getting better

At keepin my fantasy

More and more about me

And less about her

And what she did to me

Or him

And how he did me

I listened

To what mattered 

To the spirit

That lives in me

And is desperate 

To makes its purpose 

The vision that drives me.

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

Blind Wishes...

I wish I could blow away like the wind

She stays on my mind like a soldier at attention

And I cant guard my heart from scrolling her pics to no end

She isn't even real but I have to force her out of my imagination...

Doing drive bys through Sonic on Sundays

She's sitting beside me licking the spoon freshly dipped in her sundae

Then she disappears like like a mist I wish would hide the games my mind plays

Russell Westbrick-

Every shot I shot went sideways...

So many ladies foreign to my real destiny

So many curses on my quest for family 

Lack of intention disgraced and misplaced synchronicity 

Last thing I expect to see when I look in the mirror is me. 

The journey to discover purpose is my wife

Married to the internal struggle to dispel the lies-

Lies I thought would define me and my life

But these lies turned into the disease blinding my third eye.

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

#QUORIZMA #NEOETRY #POETRY #BLINDWISHES

What I WANT To Say

Looking back at myself

I was overrun with awareness

I left a dent in the mirror

Where my eyes introduced me to my soul 

An indelible impression on my memory

That's haunted me for three decades

A lonely space I stay floating in...

Surrounded by the walking dead

Asleep and oblivious to the apparition attached to every part of my existence...

My face disfigured over the years

Crows feet splashing in the puddles of my tears.

The boy that stared back at me

Died when I was 15.

I keep trying to resurrect that dead child...

Meanwhile...

I've been trying to stand erect while building character on shaky ground...

I promised so many

That they could trust me

And that same me

Destroyed me....

Put my future in shackles

And threw away the keys

To my dreams...

And that little boy just keeps haunting me.

Rushing me through all the places and spaces where angels fear to tread....

Ignorance tried to gouge out my eye of awareness. 

But I still could see

That I am me

And I am real. 

I am really here. 

Breathing. 

Thinking. 

Feeling. 

Resisting. 

At the same moment I'm dying...

Did awareness give me life or did I give life to awareness?

Without purpose 

They are both so meaningless...

Their connection is beyond symbiotic 

It is polyamorous 

Life...

Awareness...

Purpose...

The only Trinity 

On which I know to focus

Not that I dont need

Jehovah, His Spirit, and Jesus...

I just haven't found the perfect form of authentic expression to precisely convey the way I feel about the epidemic of blissful ignorance I'm inundated with every single day...

I just wanna grab the world by its mountainous shoulders and shake it...

Hey...YOU....there's gotta be a better way...

Religious ideology 

Molested my childhood fantasies...

Lies created 

The printed lies

We call money...

Instead of surrounding fires

Trading stories and philosophy

We're crammed up

On hamster wheels

Powering light polluting cities

So we can pay for rent

And what's actually Mother Nature's utilities...

But nobody listens to me...

I cant tell who's crying harder-

The man I am

Or the boy beaten

By my father...

Nobody listened then either

And every time he killed my spirit

I'd come back the next day

Just like Easter...

So thirsty for validation

I'd sacrifice my own keister. 

No birthday 

But each day birthed

Its own disaster

Because I was never

A true believer. 

Just a childhood heathen

Of the highest order

A pain to my father

An embarrassment

To my mother...

Of their kids I'm the oldest

And perhaps my heart

Is also the coldest...

Like seeds falling off the wagon

Every child I had

I abandoned...

The sun didn't rise on their nightmares

Of Daddy walking around in his own darkness

Constantly falling down life's stairs. 

So when my unanswered texts say read

My cold heart is all too acquainted with their disappointed stares....

My imagination 

Is in dire need

Of resuscitation...

None of us will live forever

But until we get to the hereafter

All dreams matter.....

Even mine 

Fermenting like wine 

In the back of my mind...

Picking up the shards 

Of my masculinity 

Like grapes that fell from the vine...

These pieces of my being

Lead a trail of tears

From Arkansas

Through Michigan, Texas, Tennessee, Florida, California

And all the way back to Arkansas...

My pseudo formative years 

That ripped me apart

And exposed me

Before I was meant 

To be exposed...

Like a busted water hose...

The heat of being his son

Refined my will

To rebel

And since I didnt fear hell

If it would get me into any kind of trouble

It was definitely 

On the table...

I only exist 

Because he loved 

Their green Bible...

Or was it the maroon version 

That fueled his passion?

Same words...

Different hue...

Some bruises matched it perfectly

But others were Cowboy blue...

Blue as your name 

I wear as a tattoo

To remind me that I survived you...

He wrote scriptures of anger

All over my body.

Was he more angry with me

Or God 

For not having yet destroyed everybody?

He hated the world so much 

He beat the memory of my ancestors 

Right out of my DNA

Killed my joy

Dropping switches 

Like Ice Cube cruising L.A.

Choked my third eye

With a blindfold 

He wore around his waist 

Just so that dead cow's 

Hide didnt go to waste

But never mind mine...

Im still a fan of performing

Though im totally against conforming... 

Ive stood and delivered my own word

As much as I had God's now.

In that free space

Ive been shown mercy and grace

That I didn't deserve

Yet nothing feels more natural to me 

Than the taste of limelight

On my face...

One of most people's 

Most feared places

But I am not most people. 

These are the things 

I HAVE to say.

Not only the tip

But my whole tongue

Thinks this way.

The way 

I say

What I say

How I say

Came from decades 

And park benches

Dark corners

And well lit court rooms

Beaches and broken beds

Hills and valleys

Cold skies and warm toy filled closets

Fenced in yards and imaginary galaxies

Far far away

Yet they are still 

The words I must say.

No one else will say

That we are fools

For living out our lives 

Like slaves

To hell's Academy Award winning screenplays.

Frustrations and confusions

Are the dilution

To everything I say

As I deep dive 

Into my archive 

To discover the words

That only I

Was meant to say.

The way I say.

To whom I say.

Why I say.

What I say.

I say like a Christian prays.

From the depths of my soul

I'm saying what the atheist is praying.

The chorus in my heart

Has been our song

Since Creation's start.

We say

What we say

How we say

Because we say

What our lives mean

By the way

We live each day.

What does my routine say?

What do my habits say?

What do my emotions say?

What do my connections say?

How does my body interpret

The food I eat each day?

What story is still written on my face

After washing it

As I walk out into the world each day?

Can you see the words that are coming

Out of my mouth

By the warmth

Of my spark?

Highlighted echoes of insecurity

Raised walls that obscure

My destiny.

Walls that define

My truth-

My Word creates My Reality.

©️ 2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

River Road -A Vacation's Daydream

Relaxin on a beach chair

Sand in my toes

Wind in my hair

Gazin into the great blue yonder

The sweet smell of coconut in the air...

Delicate jazz

Dancing on my eardrums...

Im like the tide coming in-

No one cares

Where I came from. 

Just doin me-

Cast adrift

On a lonely sea...

©️ 2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

HIATUS -The Wine Experience

Time slipping away...

Like a dress

To the floor...

Skin popping and crackling-

The air sizzling. 

Hearts banging in cages

Beating on ribs

To be set free...

The complete death

Of mystery. 

Sweat evaporates. 

Humidity palpitates. 

Imaginations vibrate. 

Sitting still

But moving closer. 

Glued to madness. 

Thirsty for insanity. 

Bliss without ignorance. 

Flame navigating to flame. 

Trapped in a bottomless hell-

Singed souls the smell.

Arms opened wide

As the mind...

Caught

In limitless thought... 

Quenching the drought

In parched throats

Drenched in desire. 

The reckless balance

Of a Phoenix

Asleep on a high wire....

©️ 2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA 

My Black History

Somewhere deep within the shadows of my vanilla flavored melanin is just a taste of the pain my ancestors felt melting under the sun of whips and chains.

Echoes of our struggle bounced off the walls of my cocoon but the reality of my family resonated with the rhythm of my heart. 

I know who I am and who I belong to. When I gaze into a mirror I see faces of gods and ancestors too. 

I see kings and queens made of sand and dirt, wind and rain, gold and silver, diamonds and fire, wood and stone, copper and bronze, clay and lava....

The sweat on our backs sends powerful glistening rays throughout the cosmos that comets wait their whole lives to absorb.

Theres a uniqueness about being black. A fiber optic connection to every star that transcends time, space, and darkness just like the light we are made of. 

My atoms dance with no fear of shame.  My electrons are negatively charged but they keep a positive attitude like Misty Copeland.

I love to take off and fly in my dreams. Never did I ever soar like Michael Jordan. 

Branded gifted and talented. That was my curse. But I dont even deserve to hold Katherine Johnson's purse. 

I cant go one morning without squinting at the sun's rising. Nobody spits cosmic data better than Neil Degrasse Tyson.

My great grandfathers and great grandmothers spoke to slaves that passed down courage and perseverance and etched monuments on the mountain of my mind's eye. Their faces weathered storms and persecution, poverty, injustice and cruelty yet by the Grace of God they still championed humanity and I'm proud of My Black History...

©️2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA

The Beauty of Darkness...

Darkness had always been around

Technology brought it to light 

I try and laugh

But you couldn't separate my joy from my pain

With Moses' staff.

He had an easier time cracking a rock

And making water come out

Than I can crack a smile

When my head is in the clouds

Feet stuck in the fog of my mind

Sceptic thoughts flooding the surface of my brain

Consciousness would love to leave this body and go for a jog

But it can't because of the perpetual reign of rain...

Existence is my cancer

Each breath another 

Silent disaster 

My first love was depression-

My hole hearted confession.

Confined in a black space

Surrounded by evil's Black Face

A tune of desperation 

That wont stop playing

Melancholy melodies

Titled Yours Truly...

How can I be a light 

To this world

Walking around

Spewing the darkness in it?

If a light is what I'm supposed to be,

Somehow someway

I am just the opposite.

Who is with me

In this darkness

Inundating me?

The salt in my veins

Spawned from 

A Black Sea.

A community

So guilty

We cant even spell immunity.

A theocratic society

Built on diplomatic hypocrisy

Always gotta watch what 'they' say

Like Hypnotiq without the Hennessey

I cant let this system Alize me.

It could always be darker

Space isn't the darkest space

I don't know if I can make it much farther

Hiding the oceanic waste

Behind my face...

© 2022 PROPERTY OF QUORIZMA