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Saturday, December 11, 2010

Atlanta Red Part 4: Conversations in Prose of Poetry (I've Seen Something in You)


Many people told me that Part 3 of Conversations in the Prose of Poetry was their favorite vocalized poem.    That's what I do "vocalized poetry".   I am not and never will be a "spoken word artist".   I wasn't meant to be a performer or an entertainer.  I was simply created to touch whomever I should through expression.   Yeah - Maybe one day you'll see or hear about me hanging out with Oprah and Maya, but it won't be for the spotlight, it will be for the fulfillment of purpose.

This is something "different" that I've done.  Instead of releasing a recorded piece, I'm releasing the written-version of a poem (for those of you who actually read.)    Those of you who are more auditory will have the opportunity of "hearing" later.     I want to hear from you "if you're a reader."   I want to know what these words mean to you personally.   How do you interpret the words?  How do they relate?  Do the words have a positive effect upon you?  How? Why?  Do they make sense to you?  Do they disagree with your belief system?  Do they agree with your belief system?  Why? 

The last chapter of "Atlanta Red" ends effectively Dec. 31st, 2010.   This piece will be included on the last CD publication of "Atlanta Red."   I want to know...  what you think and feel after reading it...  Aight?

Be Peace,


I’ve Seen Something In You

I’ve seen something in you.  Nothing can make me believe that what I saw isn’t true.  I saw a light of truth and the light was yours.  And I believe that light still shines, even though it’s hard for me to find in the midst of all the other elements that circle around your atmosphere.  Sometimes, the elements seemed to disappear  and I prayed that they were finally gone, but either I was wrong or the faith I believed I had was gone…  And those things, things that I didn’t understand, appeared again and again until the darkness of their shadows left me blinded on where I should stand.  So, I walked.  I walked and I thought and I thought as I walked and I prayed and I forgave, but the reminder of advents stayed… with me.  And even though I knew that there was victory, I didn’t know the details of how or when – and so I walked away in order to make sure that I wasn’t headed on a path to descend but the ensure that I remained on a path to ascend.   I asked God if there was truth in the external voice that reassured me that I could depend… on the light that I saw shine from within – beneath your skin – beyond the cold voice that traveled in the wind.  He said nothing except to trust Him.  He said nothing except to believe in unity.  He said nothing except to believe.   He said so little to my ears of religion and humanity, but He spoke volumes into my spiritual being.  I admitted to Him that the cold vocal winds had brought with them arrows that penetrated my faithful skin and He reminded me of the true source upon which I should always  depend.   And then – as the wounds bled with a futile flow of loss and the wounds refused to clot and stop me from breathing to death – it seemed as though my heart stopped beating – it seemed as though I stopped believing.  It seemed that all former imaginations defined by my mind’s memory of living were dimmed into an abyss where hope was surrounded with another hope of forgiveness and another weapon of darkness.    That was the day that life taught me an invaluable lesson about faith, love and forgiveness.  It taught me the necessity to let go of everything that had ever meant anything to me in order for me to have everything that God had meant for me… to have in the manifestation of my destiny.   The test of faith – between a place of escape and a place mixed with  a false face of peace and too much flesh and false testimonies…  All of them mixed with the weight of truth and the depth of unforgiving lies – surrounded by lies by liars who surrounded the atmosphere in disguise – principalities of the skies and dark spirits disguised in almost-white garments of grey instead of the bright and pure white light of glory – that few of us ever see.   My words struggled for the ability to help you see that the light inside you had set you free  because as I looked closer, I saw the wounds within you that also resembled the wounds my own weakness of strength had held inside me. I wept.  I wept quietly at night with my back turned to all the deceptions through the lies in the sky and I prayed that once we awake in the morning that we would both be witnesses to victory – but sometimes it is necessary to pray first for our own personal strengths before we pray to help another in their walk towards victory.   I didn’t forget, but instead I refused to submit to the fact that in order to see you through that I needed more strength from my Creator than I had ever witnessed and ever used.  My failure in covering you was my failure in being so faithfully see-through that I trusted the light I saw in you too much and the light inside me too little. Everything I experienced became to the mind like a riddle rather than a parable and I tried to figure out too much with my own wisdom, which was a foolish gesture.    I cried that day, just as I did every other day, but I was crying for the wrong reason.   My cries should have been for my own lack of ability so that I could receive a greater ability to contend with the all the evils and wickedness that attacked me through you.  But I was too focused on you – to see what really needed to be restored and renewed within me.  

"Even peace must fight to end war."  "Love is plentiful.  Give it freely." - re-launches on Jan. 11th, 2011

1 comment:

  1. Nice piece. I think this is something that all of us can relate too.