Letting Go

I needed to write this out.  Needed to see the words staring back at me on the screen.  I've made a lot of mistakes when it comes to love.  Didn't try hard enough, or didn't have enough in me to keep it together.  But I've often used those mistakes as a crutch.  They became the reason that I used to continue supporting the notion that I was "screwed up", and so therefore didn't need to bother putting myself out there.

But this was a defense mechanism.  I'm just a vulnerable poet heart that's afraid of being hurt.  In the past, I've clung to this, allowing it to cripple good relationships and ruin the hearts of some remarkable women.  Well, this time around, I'm determined to avoid going there.  I'd like to believe that I've matured enough to handle letting someone love me and loving them back.  It's that simple.  I refuse to analyze it to death.  I refuse to let my fears ruin me again.

To all the women from my past, I apologize collectively, one last time, for not realizing this sooner.  You are all beautiful, amazing, loving women who, when the right man comes along, will bless him with a lifetime of love.  I understand now that the simple truth is I was just not intended to be that man.  I wish all of you love and happiness, and thank you for your parts in helping me become a man.

To the woman who currently shares my smiles, this is my pledge to not let the past shut you out.  All I can do is promise you that I'll give this my all, and hope that it lasts forever.

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet

For those Who Need Lovers to Love Forcefully

Sledgehammer

I’m used to having to chisel at this,

and even then it doesn’t quite break through,

my heart is a granite wall

covered in vines and veins, and

granted, I’ve noticed these tendrils reaching,

but usually, no matter what it seeks,

I’m used to getting in the way

which is why you must be forceful with me,

knock me down like trendsetters

level adversity,

when I’m flat on my back, pounce on me,

because with strength, I will flee,

I’m not sure what it is, that made me this way,

so leery of opening, a waterless flower,

finding myself most comfortable in deserts,

treating love like a submissive does power,

easy to relinquish, while its majesty turns me on,

romantic repeating decimal, close to

but never quite becoming

one of those who truly love

I’m used to having to chisel at this,

chip bits and pieces, hoping to break through,

my heart is a granite wall

pleading hard, for the sledgehammer in you

Because it is Time that We Remove the Chains....

No Cuffs

the dope boys screaming fuck the police, while I

laugh inside,

already aware, and no longer blind,

intellect and pride, the tools I used to survive,

for their enlightenment, is what I strive,

don’t get me wrong

because I feel you, when you swear he wants to

kill you, but here’s a bit of truth we find it

hard to adhere to:

body deaths aren’t the only way

we become casualty, casually living

only out to support self, but if the soul dies, fuck the wealth

always screaming

crooked officer, crooker officer,

why you want to put me in that coffin sir,

but not true, he doesn’t want to see you dead,

would much rather see us in the streets, living misled,

drug dealing, gang-banging, stealing promise, defiling women,

still perpetrating slave with all the mental graves you digging,

killing youth, because they want your swagger,

fiends for the glitz and the glam because they don’t see

the dagger, protruding from your back

a self afflicted wound, you keep stabbing your promise

a suicide coming soon,

but I refuse to let them Oscar Grant me,

using negative media as ammunition to try and

transplant me

back to the roles our forefathers fought to break free from,

and if we keep refusing to use our voices

we might as well

be dumb, I’m dumbfounded

when I observe some of my people,

unwilling to put forth extra effort, when they know the playing field isn’t equal,

and yes the President is black, and I’m proud of that fact,

but a white man still signs his check,

and I too want to see the day we can rise above

black and white, but 485 years after my ancestors were forced here,

things still haven't been made right,

too many places still exist

where I can’t walk the street in peace,

too many hearts and minds still hold to the belief

that my skin makes me inferior to them

which is why my soul can’t cease

stirring up resistance to backwards mindset notions

that keep my people clutching crumbs and constantly hoping

that one day, a real change is going to come

Rare Groove, Feb. 07, 2011

edison - artemis vs. the city from edison on Vimeo.

Edison --- artemis vs. the city

This is groove music, for real!! Just sit back relax and get lost in it.  (And the light show is pretty cool, at least to all of us geeks...lol)

Special birthday shout out: Theresse Bynum....happy 25th (lol...joking :p)

This groove's for you!! Enjoy!

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet