Becoming the Writer

This was the trouble
I wanted to make a song
But I ain’t have no rhythm
And I couldn’t sang
And I couldn’t dance
And so I wrote
Starting telling some stories
Glancing over my glasses
Got passionate for it and took a few classes
Started to share
Started to talk
Seems writing was my thang
The ideas wouldn’t halt
The ink flow was continuous
It was love
It was discontent
It was turnt up
It was drunk
It was calm
It got delirious sometimes
The ebb
The flow
Spoke to hundreds sometimes
Reading my thoughts is going along for a ride
Sometimes I’m too tame to be a roller coaster
I am the 86 Cadillac Deville going 85 on the freeway
Destination real no leeway
Hoping seizing the day is still in
Because before I was scared to go all in
I cared about so many insignificant opinions
I was listening to haters one,two, and they minions
Thinking I needed friends that could really get me
Them fakers got me
That wannabe thing was not me
That writing about things going on was all me
And yes if you’ve met me you’re part of my story
Whether naysaying or encouraging
Well that’s your convo with Jesus
For those of us trying to make it
I sure hope he sees us

Falling

I’m falling

Flailing towards the bottom

Friends around I’ve got them

Turning like leaves in autumn

Ignoring my trail of tears that has surpassed my path

Not preventing me from laughing just to be laughing

Nothing is funny

My act is just intact

I’m excelling in class

Feeling like I’m still dead last

The world is too vast for me to imagine my future is not some narrow channel in time

 

The only thing sure is my future is mine

The choices are mine

And if you can fathom being stuck in a corner

Notebook and pen with no real prompt for your life to begin

You’re watching the party

No inclination to join in

Not sure you’ll ever have a reason to celebrate

Quite sure together is not a thing you can communicate

Especially when solitude is all you can relate to

 

Friendships pattern, a bunch of mistakes who keep popping up out of the woodworks

Reminding me of things that still hurt

I remember being naïve and believing words

Affected by people and things they’ve heard

I wasn’t even trying to be special

I hoped to disappear

Now I have to remind people that I’m here

Here in the flesh

Thrashing about

Making a mess

Sharing my feelings with people I’ve never met

Until the whole world knows the rhythm of my beating heart

 

Maybe then I will land

Perhaps even gently