Wednesday, December 23, 2009
This house is a new mind; a fresh mine
for memories. The snow outside fades footsteps
of early day. The children played
before the blizzard powdered Mama Earth’s face.
“So what we ‘gon do?” Badu sings to me.
We ‘gon remain a blank sheet. Innocence
is coming back to me. These new beginnings
envelop me, a signed and sealed delivery.
Snow scatters in every direction. The flakes
are too fast to identify. Clouds come steady as a train.
Full Steam! Frenzy. The tree nods at me heavy,
Storm on its shoulders.
Flakes visit my window like children in a zoo.
I am tamed by lies, laws, sayings and school.
I want to feel, express and create. To grow and be,
just how Lowdown Loretta Brown told me.
Now I am so happy.
Everything is new to me:
this snow, this home, my family, these feelings.
I am a bird jumping out of its tree to take wing.
This is how it feels to love God.
Free, with each attachment
as heavy as a feather.
Robert Gibson Jr.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
" Shy Days Come Away"
deluxe is nothing ordinary:
I feel no pain because I couldn’t love you more.
Like a tattoo, I wear your kiss of life permanent on my lips.
I cherish the day your pearls of thought penetrated my bulletproof soul.
Like a mermaid, I don’t know why I drowned under seas of sorrow
for seven years straight. You got my cold cold heart feelin’ the same way.
I appreciate you, so come away with me. Let’s lay in cerulean meadows,
shoot the moon and keep missing. Turn me on, light up this lonestar.
I’ve got to see you again wearing your skin. You are this painter’s song.
We are only one flight down from heaven. Let’s fly, my nightingale;
the long day is over. The nearness of you
Robert Gibson Jr.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
six feet into the Cathedral's skin;
fixed, overlooking the scenery of Monroe park.
Fools are rushin' rushin' around;
the weather weathers them down,
you sit silent and watch.
Their umbrellas dance to the sound of raindrops dying.
A midday sun escapes from its cloudy cage
and every shadow holds its breath.
Petals bow and a stalks sway;
the wind knows no death.
Ancient trees wrestle the sky
as hardened humans heave heavy souls;
too enslaved to chisel down their lives
they fight over fool's gold.
Their umbrellas die to the sight of raindrops hiding.
Still, you are not Sunnyside up:
If only they would rotate their free wills well
and dispatch into life, leading.
If only you could escape that stifling shell
and hatch into a heavenly being.
But indulgence is a discontinued sale; they never will, you never will.
You, the monstrous yet marvelous, grudgingly gaze
as their eyes, now swallowed by sunshades,
skim over the beauty of this scripted day,
ignore the position of each actor onstage
and forget that life is but a play inside the Playwright's Play.
Even so, you know the sparrow
will sing its redemption song
as bones descend at dusk.
Spirits will ascend at dawn
as humans keep building up.
Their buildings may fall
as the earth absorbs it all.
Yet your building will fall
as the earth absorbs it all.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Rooted in earth, always reaching for sunlight.
Our relationships bud, flourish and fall,
but memories are evergreen decoration.
Heartwood dreams leave us gorgeously scarred;
living for Life is the richest sensation.
We are trees polished by the seasons of life;
rooted in each other, always reaching for starlight.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
I was standing in my grandmother’s backyard when I saw another moon eclipsing our moon. It happened second by second. I told Matt and Tristan to look. But they couldn’t see it. I tried to take a picture through my camera but it was unreliable. The eclipse was over; the second moon slipped into a hidden pocket in the sky. I pondered on this bizarreness.
I wanted to go to the root of this nonsense. Tristan, with his know every human being on Earth self, referred me to a lady that could take me to outer space. Matt, with his overly curious and adventurous self, tagged along. I remember the process being quick; we hopped in the ship and within 5 minutes we were up there.
She dropped us off into a beautiful sight. We were above everything. Earth was the same as my elementary school depictions: a carefully drawn sphere circled by a necklace of dotted lines looped through the moon. Right there, I saw the other moon I saw from earth. What was it doing in our orbit? I reached to take it down. I tried to touch it but it pushed me into a spiraling frenzy and spun away into the abyss.
Helpless and silly, I twirled into the orbital wires connecting the earth and moon. I messed everything up but wouldn’t witness its affects until I got back to Earth. I was tangled in the wires, holding onto a half-opened manila folder with pictures of myself and an empty CD case. There was a blank CD in my back pocket.
I remembered I was in space so I knew I wasn’t supposed to breathe. I panicked. I started taking shorter breaths but I didn’t die. I kept breathing.
Suddenly, Matt appeared again. We were floating about the atmosphere. We were right above the last layer of clouds covering the Earth, but far enough to see it in its entirety. Maybe it was heaven.
I swam towards the pole sticking up out of the clouds that held the Moon up from the Earth. I reached for it with my right hand and caught hold to it. Surprisingly, it was cold enough to grip like any other pole in the wintertime.
He told me to hold onto my stuff or it would get sucked into Earth’s gravitational pull and rain down like hellfire. I asked “If I leave it up here, will future generations find my pictures and music as artifacts?” He answered, “I don’t know.”
We looked away from our conversation, astonished by the scenery. Beyond us, to my left and his right, was a horizonless field of red stars and meteors. We kept turning. The moon was a light hanging perpendicular to the pole I clenched. Next was the Earth: a swirl of green and blue, powdered with clouds, sided by a cold blinding sun.
We froze to a wooden bench under the pole. Matt pulled out his iPhone. He called up the lady; it was time to go home.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Starstruck - Santogold
Do it again
And I'll see you tomorrow
I want to get it
You've got something to borrow
Can't make it feel right on my own
That's when I turn you on again
I buy it but it don't measure up
What is the missed ingredient
I, I see you fade
I, I see you fade away (2x)
Under the skin
It's not so easy to swallow
Don't reel me in
To find my dreams are so hollow
What is it you got I don't get
I watch you fumbling again
Look dreamy behind your cigarette
Know it ain't true now
Oooh wee ooh wee oooh
We all find you easy so amuse us
Don't get too heady you might abuse luck
Sunday, June 21, 2009
She was a stream of breath
down a spine
She was a taste—a tongue’s wonders
She was a sound—a rumble of lightning
She was a sight—a strike of thunder
She was a touch of glass
along a fragile soul
She was a smell of daffodils
like a drunkard’s destiny
She was a kiss
too late to heal
of a heart.
So again I say No
as you know
we have not yearned the right way yet.
I lust for love
to eliminate lust
in my mind
the organ in my chest
just that—the organ
with 4 divisions
that she played
with her hands and feet
pulsing blood through my pipes
but blaring it all out religiously
I just hope
that two-faced phantom of my mind
can make up his mind
before it is time
for this opera
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I was a dislocated football player
who fumbled love
to a hyper-extended cheerleader
on the sideline.
I didn’t mean to,
but just like listening to a song on the radio,
I didn’t like “Blame it on the Alcohol”…when I first heard it…
but I kept hearing it, so I grew tolerant of it.
I opposed everything that song stood for.
Yet, I knew about every damned word to it!
I even laughed at how ridiculous it was!
Still, I chose to listen.
And with no other selection of song to hear,
it turned into the only tune I could turn to.
It became a hopeless attachment
that I couldn’t see myself living without.
So in essence, I began to love it.
Now, I am hyper-extended
from yelling on the sideline
because she dislocated that love
and limped away.
Our time together was everything
but the scoreboard was always broken.
So by the flip of a coin,
our everything was already nothing.
And if nothing is everything and everything is time
than time is nothing.
This song is out of tune.
Reset the scoreboard if you must.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
"Skin is a distracting wrapper to the flavor of a person’s soul."
(Directed to the Black skin versus White skin theology)
Imagine humans being able to eliminate the distraction of the physical skin and just be “gray” humans walking around on earth. We would then focus on an individual's true personality and characteristics. As a result, we would lose the concepts of black versus white and beauty versus ugly, but it would only be fit as karma to our historical affairs involving the discrimination based off of them.
So in essence, we would all start from zero. Everything before that point would be history. Then we could coin the issue of the black race versus the white race as an inferior and a useless level of thinking as a whole. Unfortunately, there would be no more significance for having pride in one’s race; cultures may still exist based off of location of a group of people and their trends, but race would no longer be a driving force behind that.
Note: I say “unfortunately” because I as an individual enjoy celebrating my race and culture. It is healthy to be involved with people you share common ground with to meet a common goal. Most of us feel it is necessary in order to function and collectively progress in this world.
On the contrary, I don’t believe in taking it to the extreme of saying my culture or race is better than someone else’s, because that would only lead to war. But the world would be boring without war to oppose peace, right? If everything was “good and peaceful” on earth, the thrill of media would not exist. So I do believe in the concept of yin and yang; it is necessary in order to keep balance in the world. But the historical matching of opposites to other opposites: positive=white and negative=black, has led us to our current way of processing everything. And personally I’d rather be an advocate of the peace found in totally denying that theology.
But back to the response of us “thinking gray”: After the shift in thought, we in our inquisitive nature, would dissect the matter and strive to find the root of that mentality to ultimately lead us to an answer or solution. At the same time, finding an answer may not be beneficial because if the human mindset remained the same when we switched from “black and white vision” to “gray vision” we would still want to find someone to blame and punish or shun to the death; causing an immediate divide in the thought of us starting from zero. But if we blamed ourselves as a whole for the problem we would not shun ourselves or go to the extreme of killing off ourselves; it wouldn't make sense. We would want our state of humanity to excel.
It is possible that we could press refresh and have a new beginning but only if we scrap our flawed ideals of the past while at the same time use them as a basis of what not to become again. Once fixed in that mentality, we humans would see each other’s souls for what they are, establish a mutual respect for each other’s diversity and finally know how to wear our skins correctly.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
I was listening to a new found friend Chris Dunn perform a piece that he had 'no words for'. I listened to him perform the song and something moved me to read my poem to it while he was playing. I discovered that if I slowed down the pace that I read it at, it matched his rhythm. So I approached Chris after he got off of stage and asked if he would play that behind my poem while I recited. He happily agreed and we even got our friend Jamie to play the drum with us. So it was complete, his wordless tune finally had lyrics to make the song complete!
Here it is. Enjoy!
(Jamie, get well soon brother, you have more music to make with us!)
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Also, that Friday before the competition I got to perform at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe.That too was an amazing experience for me, so I'll share it with you all:
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
I posted up an illustration of Saul Williams.
Well, Mr. Tardust put it up as his Facebook profile pic for a little while AND shotted out my blog.
For a moment, I felt like I won the lottery;
only without the moolah...
SO if anybody doesn't know who this extraterrestrial is than check his work out at http://saulwilliams.com/
Your support is appreciated Saul.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
So here are the Chronicles of Bobby. Enjoy!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
In the meantime, here are some illustrations I've experimented with in the last couple of weeks!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
It was one of those, "YOOoooOoO YOU TOOK THE WORDS RIGHT OUT OF MY MOUTH!" moments. So for the fact that we share the same first name and same thoughts, I felt obligated to share this.
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love;
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love.
From the very first time I rest my eyes on you, girl,
My heart says follow through.
But I know, now, that I'm way down on your line,
But the waitin' feel is fine:
So don't treat me like a puppet on a string,
cause I know I have to do my thing.
Don't talk to me as if you think I'm dumb;
I wanna know when you're gonna come - soon.
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love;
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love;
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love,
cause if summer is here,
I'm still waiting there;
Winter is here,
And I'm still waiting there.
*I don't plan on feeling like this for long ;)
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
I Can Do Better
That Real Black Music
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
When I found out about the poetry of Saul Williams in September of 2007, I submerged myself in his work: Slam, The Dead EMCEE scrolls, ,said the shotgun to the head, etc. I found it fascinating at how he addressed the galaxy and all of its positive/negative entanglements in his poems. My "discovery" of Mr. Williams ignited my lyrical liberation and inspired me to work beyond the bar I let others set for me. I don't know when, I don't know how, but one day I would like to meet him and actually present the final version of this piece to him... Oh yea, I wouldn't mind hanging out and sharing visions either, like most artists do. So until then...
Sunday, January 11, 2009
My best friend Ernest has found the love of his life Denise!
That inspired this illustration of them along with a poem aka the "2 for 1"!
I have found a love
that makes my heart flutter
like the wings of butterflies
painting my soul
with natural hues
please stain me
with your colors
Drench my fired clay shell
please glaze me
You shine so bright
but thank God
you’re not as far
I’ll lay my telescope down
because you’re my earthbound star.