I Want To Talk About You

The room is still, chills thrill my imagination

incinuations from my heart yell out violently but

Tonight, I want to talk about you..

Control me, control me with all your strength

let the warmth of your breath, bring fret

to those that know not love's length

Why? why fight the inevitable..

the more I speak, the more your descriptions

slip thru my teeth, the more I find myself on my knees

and im not praying

Tonight, I want to talk about you..

Sometimes words don't suffice, let's throw rice into the air

and let the feeling of their descent explain the goosebump

effect my body has with your name

I'm married to your memory, if you pass I won't be a widower

Sports, fashion, politics, religion, seem like conversations for children

they sound like vain repetitions, cold dead fingertips next to your delicious.

Tonight, I want to talk about you..

What's my name? What does it matter? when all that brings me life-giving

laughter is sitting directly across from me,

the waves of your perfume sway me, with smells of Lilacs and Cinnamon

I'm engulfed, taken, reawakened, yet fractions of time too small to tell have passed

Let me have your hand to grasp, let your body talk to me and tell me my kisses

to the neck, bring fire from inside you and your body twitches to the rhythm

of African drums, my lips to your Eternal Valley passes me to places 3-dimensions

could not fathom...

Tonight, I want to talk about you..

I swim in your rivers of love, backstroke in your sexy, ski your slopes,

your smile of completion when you've trekked to the top of Mt. Everest and you're cheeks

are as bloodshot as my eyes, slowly walkin down your chin, breasts, womb, thighs

watch my inner man rise

I lie, I lie in the pools of truth when adultery fails to persuade me, i'm indebted to you,

i'm ingrafted in you, i'm a reverse-narcissist for you, i'm a, i'm a..... lost in you..

I have every day of my life to talk about everything else,

Tonight, for the whole night, I want to talk about you...

V for Vendetta

"Hope that we feel this Feel this way forever You could plan a pretty picnic But you can't predict the weather" -Andre 3000

If you're standing on any rock other than the 3rd rock from the sun, I'm sorry to remind you that its Valentines Day. I'm not a V-Day hater, but I am definitely not a fan. Yes, it's awesome to have a day where you can make-up for any mess-ups you might have had during the year. It's like a Mr. Clean 'Magic Eraser' for the heartache and words unsaid that last carried to its end. Other than being assumed to be a "Vday Terrorist", which none other than someone who picks a fight on V-Day so that the responsibility of a gift is nil, I am actually enjoying the day.

I woke up from a light sleep at about 10 am, smelling the sweat lingering from the arduos dream of the night before signaling the time for a shower. Phone laying on the floor and my half-blunt beside it, I was leaving myself clues as what to do with the day. Since my girlfriend caught a titi attack yesterday because it got late and my friend's car got stuck in the snow, I woke up quite angry. Irony, irony, irony, what would I do without you. The reply to my, "Happy Valentines Day, im home btw" text from the night before which said, "Thanks, okay. Goodnight." was still on the screen and the bitter taste of "fuck you then" was still on my tongue.

Even though the day started ugly, a constant influenza of classical hip hop filled the air and broke those barriers. Tunes from Jay-Z, Kanye West, Cam'ron, Outkast, Jay Electronica, and many more opened my mind to the times I was the saddest, to the times my heart took a vacation and my mind drove my soul into an oblivion. That period of time that was still. I became oveerwhelmed and thankful for having what I have. My Belle might tight with me but I'm a Beast that's gonna fight for her. At the end of the day, this girl has taken me by surprise and proved herself- without me asking- to be the person necessary for my life. Her smile came to my mind and my heart continually melts and freezes and melts again like the extremes of the seasons over bodies of water.

I'm not posing to be to a love expert. I'm not trying to receive pats on the back. But at the same time, I'm not trying to be judged, I'm trying to have cruel and unusual standards placed over me, and I definitely do not want to be alone. Today has become a lashing back for treating me like crap the night before. I miss you and no vendetta is held against you.

The Lonely Stoner

"The pain is deep (what, what) A silent sleeper you won't hear a peep, peep (what, what) ... He's all alone some things will never change (yea) (never change)The lonely loner seems to free his mind (yea) at night (at, at, yea at night)" - Kid Cudi "Day n Nite"

There's just something about the night that makes it so much better than day. The freezing breaths of a world asleep. The trees receiving the so needed shade after 12 hours of scorching sun. I light my cigarette and I watch the night watch me. Everything is still, even the discarded items on the curb ask the wind permission to move. Alley cats take smoother strides not worried of their 2 legged coinhabitants and cars rarely make their appearance.

I love to take my time smoking a cig, no matter the weather around me. The smoke paints pictures, so easily overshadowed by the competitiveness of morning sunrays. My mind expands left and I wander in the vastness of it, unashamed of topics usually not discussed. Each one of my eyes constantly on the move in unison, picking up on the most subtle of movements. Sounds easily picked up, allowing my proverbial heart to pick up on sounds so low, that some doubt them even happening. Sounds becoming words allowing God to speak. Herbs build a bridge to reservoirs of thought and time does its job to resonate the secrets of the universe in and through the deepest parts of my soul.

Alone. All alone I stand. While everyone sleeps, I wake, and wander and wonder. The only time in my life that I can be me, unbiased. A gate to understanding and finding myself. Pride cannot stand in its presence and honesty is always at the tip of my tongue. The truth oozes out of me and the only lying I do, is my ass and back lying on the couch as I travel. My mother strutting as the proud Dominican that she is, proud with her head high, looks down on my mind's traveling pod and says, "y esos ojos mijo", which means, "why are your eyes like that". All I could answer is a smile of ecstasy.

Problems and disagreements, as well as doubt and disbelief in myself slowly fall to my feet and die. My body rests, my mind flies, unphased by the ugly of life. The future stretches out his hand and gives me my daily bread.

The lonely stoner frees his mind at night. Until the sun in all his jealousy tries to take all that I have fought for tonight. So my mind escapes in hiadeous, waiting anxiously until the slumbering of the Flaming Slavemaster for me to come alive and get out my dreams without fear. For now, I remain the Lonely Stoner.

Good nite.

Love is a Battlefield

"So now, all alone or not, you gotta walk ahead. Thing to remember is if we're all alone, then we're all together in that too." -P.S. I Love You.



Its such a difficult task in life to get to know who you are, like, really know who you are. Only a handful of people ever get to be content with just living and breathing. But, the Bible boldly states "man is not made to be alone" and those words are burned in my conscious like no other words.

I thought that love would be an easy feat, since I always thought that love was the funny feelings I felt around a certain girl. Throughout the years though, I started seeing that girls were becoming less interested in matters of the heart and that matter became short for material. By the time I made it to high school, girls were so jaded and hurt or just outright innocent that it made it almost impossible to understand a girl, better yet to fight for one.

Now 22, my life is a boiling pot when it comes to the L-word. I have to put up an armor of patience, a mind of maturity, a breastplate of hope, a belt of truth and loyalty, and some type of Goretex boots for those stepping on your shoes. Preparation is definitely key. Especially when you have to go through the other person's past, the other guys and their bullshit, family problems, and emotional mishaps. No matter what, never give up, never regret, never forget. Many times you lose when you try to protect yourself. You lose because no matter what you've gone through it's not the other person's fault that all those hideous and unwanted things happened to you. You lose out on love or on a necessary lesson when you levee your life.

Fight. Through the devils of your past, through the hurt and pain, the lessons and mistakes, fight. One of my favorite quotes came to me in a dream, but I never heard it before, "Wherever you go, go with all your heart". Don't worry too much about the hurt that might come, but the hurt of not going.

"Because that's what people do. They leap, and hope to God they can fly, because otherwise you just drop like a rock, wondering the whole way down, why in the hell did I jump? But here I am, Sarah, falling, and the only one that makes me feel like I can fly... is you." -Will Smith as Hitch

A Dad not just a Father

"Young cuz I'm 32, flow like I'm 22, dress like I'm 18, do what i wanna do"- Jay-Z. I really don't think Young Hov' thought of niggas like me when he wrote this line. Honestly, I think mine would go more like this, "Young wit kids tho I'm 22, dress like I'm 32, flow like I'm 18, pampers and baby food" because even though I'm in love with idea of being a father, I much rather be a dad.

Wat is a father anyway? Other than a man who's sperm somehow finds itself empregnating an egg, and a baby being born because of it of course. What about the people like myself that never had a "father" and the closest thing to one had a "step" to it, lol. Is he not my father even though he didn't "get it on" with my mom to make me. The relationship, conversations, my right-of-passage. Fathers pay child support, Dads support the child and no monetary collateral is necessary.

Me, not meeting my son until after he was already eighteen months old automatically stamped "father" on my forehead and had me believing that I was doing enough by paying child support. I wasn't. While listening to Camron's "Stop It 5" I came to the realizations of my mistakes. It's as if Cam was talking to me like, "Oh, you a Dad nigga, STOP IT 5!!", lol. I had to look deep within myself to see that being with them isn't what they really need. They need the strength, comfort, discipline that only a real man can give. I don't mean to boast, because calling myself a Dad doesn't mean I am one.

To those that are out there, having babies and justifying yourself because you pay child support or give the mother money, STOP IT 5!!

Peace and love, Charlie.