Posted by: mrdmcday | July 3, 2011

Shadow’s Angel

Darkness beckons my swift return.

His boisterous yet calm tone bringing to mind times of old.

The sweet smell of insignificance…

The lonely sting of solitude…

I can feel his shadows creeping up my calves.

I’m once again gazing into his lackluster stare.

I see nothing in his eyes.

Perhaps this is what comforts me most.

A world free from motion and chaos, free of the things able to pierce the veil.

Long ago, he waited for his wife here.

Here, at the threshold…

I’m shocked to hear a tale of heartbreak from such a person…

One of such a tactless nature.

He goes around, molesting the weak wills of those around him.

Slipping back into the shade once his deeds are done.

As for affection, he needs none.

And preys on the ones who do.

Destroying hope and wreaking havoc wherever he goes.

All the while never showing his face…

Exploiting the weaknesses of having faith alone…

He never educates….

Just dissipates after he annihilates…

A broken spirit operating out of hate.

The very thing he fought against so many years ago…

And that smooth animal turns to me and utters the words,

“You’re my best student…”

Posted by: mrdmcday | February 1, 2011

Wake Up Texts

Why do I text you in the morning?

Perhaps I miss you and the times we used to share

When the feelings were mutual and the chemistry was there.

I know my traveling ways are a bit much for you.

And though I love, I simply can’t be restrained.

I move forward and you claim I’m leaving us behind.

Details of my mental processes are always scarce.

I’m sorry sugar, but I have not the time to be meek.

And though I wish it was your body here, sharing these sheets,

I know if I let you in, you’ll wreak havoc upon my lifestyle.

A lost child who finds comfort in the wilderness.

I’m at home in the storm, your scorn bores me.

Why settle for the house on the beach when you can have the sea?

I’m a sailor at heart, you can’t stomach the ride.

Your emotions change more often the tide itself.

Shipwrecked, all the while staying afloat.

Because the storm isn’t out at sea, it’s in the boat.

And if I took the time to bail all the added weight,

I’d have to travel back in time to day we had our first date.

Too long a journey, old wounds are now re-opened.

My clothes are soaking and I’ve run out of Ibuprofen.

My immunity to, your overwhelming scrutiny, wanes with your reign in my life.

I let it happen twice.

Third time’s a charm.

For when you bring rain, the blame’s no longer on you.

It’s all on me.

I can no longer bring shame to myself.

My heart’s among the constellations, that’s the ultimate wealth.

And if there ever came a time I had to choose between the two,

I’d run to the outer limits

Instead of choosing you.

The clocks ticking…

Posted by: mrdmcday | October 7, 2010

Thought of the Day (10/7/10)

The only way you can progress through each day with sanity intact is to live with expectation. Wake up with expectation, get dressed with expectation, and walk with expectation. Do it as if you know today is going to be a good day, a new chance to try again. Today is the perfect opportunity to learn from yesterday’s mistakes, try something new, and work toward a better tomorrow. It’s a new day people! Why not be happy in the meantime?

Posted by: mrdmcday | September 21, 2010

Thought of the Day (9/22/10)

If history tends to keep repeating itself, maybe there’s something about the story YOU missed. There’s a reason this dilemma keeps resurfacing in your life. Stop being stubborn and study!

Posted by: mrdmcday | September 6, 2010

Hip Hop tries to talk to me…sometimes…

A short story about this girl,
Could I get you to listen?
Just for a brief moment, could I have your attention?

Wasn’t my first time meeting her, we spoke before…
But every time she opened her mouth, this radio roared….

“BOOM, BOOM, BOOM…Get Money.”
“BOOM, BOOM, BOOM…Get Money.”


Paint gleaming green, sound pumping, windows tinted.
That’s why I could never tell who was in it.
They cruised slow as her and I conversed, then sped off when they got to end of the curb…


I saw her again the next day!
She looked even better.
She had on a Sundress and this cute little sweater.
Had that same wink, and, of course, that same white smile.
Had some time to kill, so I took her out for awhile.

We walked through the park, showed her my side of town.
But in the distance, I could still hear that carnal sound.
And just like the day before, damn tank rolls up on us
And then speeds off when it gets to the end of the corner!


“Sooo…do you know those guys?!” I finally ask.
She looks down at her glass and starts to laughs
They’re supposed to be old friends from uptown
But how come every time I’m with her, they come around?


Irritating to say the least, but, for her?
I’ll make do with the lime paint and greasy beats.

But the next day, we didn’t meet at the usual spot.
I remember the air was dry and scorchingly hot.
I tried to call her twice, but no reply
And then that damn green Chevy falls from the sky.
I’m at the bus stop, sitting…daydreaming
When three pairs of eyes glare at me from black hoodies.

May I help you, sirs?
Perhaps, reason with you?
But thugs never reason when their angry with you.

Down on the ground,
Knee on my throat, Glock to my face.

Said if they saw me with her again, they would start taking limbs.
And if that didn’t work, they were gonna take my life.
“Your last date with the girl ended last night.”

Pride said, “Speak up!”
So I licked my lips and put on my hard face!
But when common sense spoke next… wasn’t hard for me to replace that.
Wanted to grab the gun, but knew Id be dead if I tried that.

God dammit…

They asked me if I understood their demands and if I’d obey
But could I really let their envy get in the way?
Of something so good that I never felt before?
If not, I could wind up dead on this floor.

So, reluctantly, I said I wouldn’t see her.
Got teary eyed as I stared down the heater.
“Yeah, you better not.
Or we’ll find you nigga.
And next time, we won’t wait to pull the trigger.”

They still beat me up after I agreed to follow orders
And left me a bloody pulp to rot on the corner.
I think I woke up a few hours after
A subject to the local lunatic’s laughter.

Nigga they got you! Are you ok?”
Negro telling jokes right in front of my face.
“Damn dude, they knocked you right the fuck out!
I think they stomped a couple teeth out your mouth!”

“Shut up, stupid!”
Got up, dusted myself off…
Pushed the old man out the way and stormed off.
Of course, when I got home I checked in the mirror anyway…
What? Couldn’t settle for being a snaggle tooth everyday.
Anyways, Hip Hop calls me the night after.
Said she missed seeing my smile, hearing my laughter.
Said I’m not too sure I have much to be happy about.
Ever since your homeboys stomped me out.


Yeah. I met your friends yesterday..
Reeeeally nice people. Showed me their guns!
Bear me up on the corner and took all my funds.
I had to walk the rest of the way back home.
And I called you twice, you just left me there to die!

She was speechless, I guess she felt bad
But no matter how she felt, I was still mad.
Screwing with this girl got me choked up and almost killed!
And then she tells me to calm down and take a chill pill?

Oh yeah…I’m relaxed all right…

I think we both went to bed angry that night…
But the next day, she caught me off guard at the park again.

Dammit, didn’t I tell you what they said to me?
Don’t You know they’re gonna see you here with me?
You just want me dead, don’t you?

She kissed my scarred eye and took hold of my hand.
Said if I kept living right, I could be her man.
And like clockwork, that Chevy circled the park and drove off quick.
But she told me not worry and said the pain would quit.

We had a good day again, like the times before…
Even though I couldn’t help but to look over my shoulder.
Then she pulled my arms around her waist, tried to get me hold her!
Nuh uh! We at that stage?
Here’s the cold shoulder.

I love you but there’s a bounty on my head!
And your something too good not to be shared.
If I can’t walk in the light with you, I refuse to go dark just to lie with you.


She respected my decision, took it well.
But when she’s upset, I can always tell.

Told me people may hate you because your different.
And your walk puts them in an awkward position
Said my life was too full of purpose
For this reason, we couldn’t be together on the surface.

Then she slipped a note in my jacket, said this is where true love can be found…

But can anyone tell me what this one word means?


Posted by: mrdmcday | August 21, 2010

Chasing Summer

The leaves of Summer brown as she leaves.
Autumn approaches, aloof in her gestures.
Her little efforts don’t compare to the rays you’ve displayed.
Those streams of warmth that flew ever so beautifully, into me.

Am I to rest upon your riverbeds once more?
My weariness cured upon your love’s shores?

Why do you run?
Is it me whom you fear?
If my heart is a clock, your love turns the gears!
What are my hands to do without you?

Could you surrender your arms and let me bask in your splendor?
Or will you resist and rob me of your hearts timbre?

My empress…
My songstress…

Have your melodies grown cold?
Could it be you’ve those feelings of old?
Were we nothing more than a summer’s romance?
I guess I should have never your left love up to chance…

There was a time in human history—with a focus on Europe—where it was commonplace to believe in God. Everyone believed in God and a great religious foundation was set in the community. But, as one could’ve guess, abuses came within this ancient institution. With utter control over the spiritual guidance of society’s members, and the stratification that placed the clergy upon a worldly pedestal despite their spiritual obligation to the people, there were those individuals who sought to prostitute the church in order to maintain their esteemed way of life.

With society eventually gaining a collective consciousness of the vices running through the bloodstream of their temples and the rise of the scientific revolution following soon after—a new way of life was born. While some, even myself, may argue that it’s foolhardy to judge the existence of God by the actions of mere men, the masses gained a new method to understand life—rationality. And we can all agree; God’s existence is anything but rational.

But there are those who maintained a thorough believe in God, in a higher power. Returning to more recent times, it seems that behaviors and attitudes that had previously applied to God seem almost nonexistent. There is a discipline that has virtually disappeared within our religious institution. I feel this is, in part, because people of today’s society, while claiming not to be of the world, are actually falling victim to it. This, my friends, is no personal rant but an objective observation, at least, as objective as I can possibly be in regards to the topic at hand.

The evidence on which I found this claim lies within the focus of this:

How Christians poorly represent the God they claim to serve. Today, we’re focusing on symbols.

So, as you are all aware, rosary beads have become a new fashion trend within American society, especially within the black community. I am unaware of how much this trend has integrated with other cultures but I am sure that there is NO POSITIVE end result to such a fad.

Rosary beads are held as a sacred symbol within the Catholic Church. They are a core element in Catholicism, keeping track of the number of prayers and used in paying reverence and seeking intercession from Mother Mary in “Hail Mary” rituals. While they have been used in other spiritual walks, one thing is certain: That this object is definitely held sacred by a large, religious organization.

We, as black men and women, must learn not to follow the ways of the world so blindly. As you know, there is a profound stigma of ignorance attached to our race and culture, and participating in this trend only strengthens it. Not only does it reinforce the shared belief that African-Americans are oblivious to the world, it also sheds a dark light on our spirituality. To further solidify this point, let’s look at a trend that still remains predominant in our community: Tattoos and jewelry.

It wasn’t long after tattoos were invented, that Christ himself would become a fashion icon. Not only have I seen the cross, the very thing he sacrificed his life on, placed in questionable areas, but his NAME as well. The thighs and bosoms of women remain the most questionable areas to date. I pray there are none worse…

And then you have the silver, gold, and diamond-encrusted rings, earrings necklaces, chains, and pendants—all coupled with a ridiculous price tag. Do you really think these things are made in reverence to your Sovereign?

Capitalism pays no respect to Christ and the folks guided by its cold calculation and incessant hunger for more have no problem taking the sacred images and symbols of YOUR spiritual walk and prostituting them. You have become the Christian street-walkers, adorned with their hollow objects. There are folks out here that claim to be Baptist and are strolling around with Catholic symbols hanging from their necks because they think it’s cool. You’re a walking contradiction. You aren’t only giving the world a reason NOT believe in God, but, furthermore, an even more adequate reason to doubt your own beliefs in Him.

In layman’s terms, let’s stop using Christ as a conduit for “cool points.” There’s no homage that comes with the carnal tattoos and jewelry that diminish his name. The day people, especially those of the African-American race, stop repping Jesus like some street set is the day they might actually find him.


Posted by: mrdmcday | July 29, 2010

Scientific Nature

Reality is subjective;
A fleeting dream, forever elusive to interpretation.
It is not absolute.
It will never be fully understood.
A mystery that will accompany us to our graves.
Question is:
Will you make the most of it?
Or die trying to solve a riddle with no answer?
Science, once a treat
Now an irreversible cancer.
A hungry child, forever suffering from starvation.
A victim drowning in his own contemplation.
His law is flawless, without error.
His cold rationality invokes terror,
Into the spirits who he deems nonexistent
No morality, no code of conduct.
Just the experiment.
Posted by: mrdmcday | July 19, 2010

Peace Vs. Harmony

I was holding a conversation recently with a friend of mine about households. How peace can take place without any real harmony amongst the individuals. For those of you out there that say your family is doing well because you have obtained “peace” within your walls, ponder this for a second.

Peace: Freedom from disturbance; quiet.

Harmony: The quality of forming a pleasing and consistent whole.

The problem with the average Amercian home is that members are hellbent on keeping the “peace”. Confrontation seems to be the last thing on a family members mind which, in turn, usually leaves members of a household walking around with their faces down walking on eggshells-wary not to make any sudden comments or movements-or it might be their last.

It’s disturbing how many would label this a “success”–A home with no arguments, no real disputes–deemed an suitable environment. But the big picture isn’t being seen here.

For a moment, take your own home into account.

How often do you talk to your loved ones? How often do you tell them you still love them and vice versa? Can you recall the last time you had a conversation longer than a few seconds?

“How was your day?”


*Walks away*

This is a blatant example of a disconnected family–fractured to the point that the smallest attempt at normal conversation seems almost painful. So you stroll around (for youth, probably with your earbuds in) isolating yourself and exiling those around you.

True. There is peace. No one risks being disturbed or disturbing others. But there’s no harmony.

I’ve yet to find a singular, omnipotent answer to this problem but, one thing’s for sure, a home without confrontation–one absent of thesis and antithesis–will never come to find synthesis. Talk it out and do so in love.

Posted by: mrdmcday | July 18, 2010

Her name was Anesthesia…

Her name was Anesthesia…

She was a light girl, beautiful features.

Soft complexion, modest in complexities.

Her touch was soothing, almost dreamlike

Her fingertips pushed words back down my windpipe

Pushed thoughts to the back of mind.

If I weren’t at ease, she didn’t hesitate to please.

If I were at a variance with her, she had to ultimate power to persuade

All without some type of love to be made

Her eyes were like one-way mirrors, though.

I always saw myself but, when I searched, I didn’t see her

I mean…

I saw her but I didn’t see her

There was something lurking much deeper

I always felt a slight pinch every time I looked too hard

I slight tweak every time I dug too deep

And in that blink, I’d lose all memory of previous engagements

My love life up a few social arrangements when I woke next

With a white picket fence, and a dog on the lawn

Hardest days of my life are already gone.

I sit in the shade as she brings me lemonade

A slight kiss on the cheek, she returns to the humble abode.

I guess she must’ve seen me as she looked out the window

My eyes catching something floating in my drink.

Not a fly or hair, but a fine powder…

Must not have stirred this drink as well she ought’ve.

She ran outside and asked what the problem was,

Snatched the drink out of my hand and began to stir.

My spirit stirred with it as I watched;

The world spinning out of control the longer I looked on.

That’s when the house started shifting, changing colors.

All of a sudden, the green grass browned all around us.

Her yellow skin, my blackness,

Our red blood

Mix the three together, you get mud.

These colors weren’t meant to float in the same pool, a beautiful hue.

If shit is all you get, what else is there do?

She started to churn the liquor faster, a rapid arm’s race

But I had already put the barrel of a pistol to her face.

“Why did you lie to me? What did you do?”

“Nothing is wrong baby. The drink isn’t through.”

She smiled at me again with her ivory teeth.

Then I noticed her canines were twice the length of mine.

A dogmatic dictator, a spin artist

Been dead all along, her feeding off my carcass

My smooth brown skin withered and turned gray

Then I noticed my vision began to give way.

I stormed off, her shrill cries chasing me

Like a barrage of bullets, her words abrading me.

But the affects of her dosage remained potent.

Spread through me but my eyes remained open.

Truth kept me awake, revolution kept me running

Fear raced me, and doubt kept gunning.

I see a cliff in the distance, what am I going to do when I get there?

I don’t know; guess we’ll see when we get there.

The soft grass underneath my toes has retreated.

A blanket of sharp stones has been pleated instead.

As I tread…ever further into oblivion.

Is this reality or is this delirium?

Opium bomb on her waist, doctor’s mask her face

Blood Red Cross on her chest, ammunition in her vest.

Yellow, elastic bands, long needle in hand.

Another liquified commodity, a gurney for my body.

I can fight back or I can give in quietly

That’s when I hear the ocean’s whisper quiet me.

I turn around to see outstretched arms…

Then turn back to see destined harm…

Tunnel vision ensues;

A see a light glimmering in the depths

A pool of tears, over the years, I’ve wept

Promises I’ve kept, questions unanswered

Stuck with a doctor who’s yet to cure my cancer

My illness is terminal.

My body, deceased.

This light encapsulating the plight I have seen.

Euros sheds dancing yet withered leaves.

Zephyr made them ripple beautifully with the sea.

Boreas gathered them all in one great funnel.

Revealing a gem,

Bottom of the sea, end of the tunnel.

Notus whispered in my ear, the end was near.

And that this light would make all my problems disappear.

That’s when I felt a crack in my heart, a rift in my spirit

So I jumped off the cliff in an attempt to get nearer it.

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