Unbroken ...

From deep inside my fractured soul I spit fire in the form of
quotes/tattered dreams litter potholes sealed with disappointments
from/years lost, ideas squandered, & promises left unspoken/i've
been/crushed by the foot of the cross and branded by calling's scarlet
letter/however clever were my theories & musings/dainty morsels to the
ear of those blinded by their self-righteous mediocrity/but I remain
unbroken/a niggaz gifts shinning a spotlight all on his crusty ghetto
flair/how could I ever prepare for the total disillusionment that was
to follow/spiritual shape shifters, fork tongued prophets, and gossip
stained pork bellyed harlots/all zombie walking with stretched out
hands/memory heeds my mother's warning/not to give away my precious
inheritance/but I remain unbroken/dooped for the location of my
philosophies and personal space by a charismatic con man carrying a
briefcase full of personalized paradise road maps/pointing towards the
alter for the sacrifice of my personal hopes & dreams/but still I
remain unbroken/like a fountain in the middle of the park I spit
publicly/like a mountain to be scaled cautiously when in private this
nigga is a fly vet-teran/scuffled tough terrain from LES to East L.A.
Sac town to Twin Cities and will always rep my prep school
beginnings/because still I remain unbroken

Cloud Room Manifesto

It have my nose running like bad ass kids ‘round old school family parties/sweetie’s bubble tush painted my eyes stained glass lush fantasies played by the smokey exhale bonged out on bubble kush/ vivid translations of reality unedited, unloaded, and unfuckwitable/to quote Allan Jones/nigga I can’t see it/B who I be kidding M-I be easy I stay crushed dawn till dusk/tight brown sweaters /hella heavy on top refined professional swing printed on jean back pockets/if life was the mic/Miz would be in vocal booths building ciphers within scriptures holding the L too long/get a frame nigga take a picture/No, I don’t know none of ya’ll niggaz, yeah we chilled a few miles & got tatted off bless/but to truly know someone is Co-D-ing scared knees from their struggle/can’t get close to a nigga like me cuz back stabbing bullet proof walls are perpetually under construction /with a blurry eyed foreman who stays tron tronned up dealing truth about buildings I may never see again/Pork chop Davis soap box sharing visions of dream travel from gentrified Columbia Street to revitalized 1-6-1/plus other places on the map we soon to see/could I be anymore Stokely Carmichael/black fist pick reference introduced by Chandler Bing/looking for a few weeks/sunny skies & a pound to crush/still can’t see the Divine in me/from birth I’ve been bathed in the sinner’s misery

Live from somewhere ...

Forever blasted, in effort
To shelter me from the
Presence of your absence

My heart weighs heavy
My lungs challenge maximum capacity

Relentless negotiation with time for more
Nostalgic concerning each day’s unique imprint
Because today my son, you are 8
But tomorrow, you will be 8 and another day

Each story quickens my memory
While every developmental milestone exhumes
Our journey into endless infinity

My goodness you were right

She did come, the lady with stuff
To make everything … better

Back to the Blog ...

Well, I know I have been away from the blog universe for quite some time. Most of my attention has been spent on the first three chapters of my novel … The Divine Sinner Chronicles – Inspired by True Events.

The title does indeed give it away, it is a fictionalized version of my life … well to be honest some of the people and places are fictionalized but its pretty much going to cover the perpetually blunted adventures of Marcus Smalls, as played by Donte Baxter. I plan to create a blog for the book, so please be on the look out for the Divine Sinner blog coming soon …

I’ve missed blogging but I needed to focus on completing my sample chapters and book proposal. I have now reached the point where I’m doing query letters for perspective agents and I must say the task of sexing myself up for an agent is way tougher than the actual writing of the book.

So much has happened since we last blogged together … President Obama is whipping Capitol Hill into shape, the New York Post is fucking up as usual, and just as an aside I’ve been boycotting the Post for the past 10 years at least. The Yankees have opened spring training for the third year in a row with a steroid cloud hanging over them. My opinions on this “steroid era” are way too long to get into right now, the same goes for my opinions on most pastors … ya’ll niggaz is still whack.

Oh and my Mac died, which is what started the blog drought in the first place.

Ok, that is more than enough of my sub-conscious drivel. I will bring back my award wining Marcus shit soon but for now … L.E.S STAND UP!!!!!!!!!

Blessings,

M