As most of you know, I dabble in the hip-hop a bit. Though poetry always will be my first love, this poem actually started out as an attempt of compose an obviously poetically infused piece into a song.
As with my other pieces, anyone who knows me is familiar with a struggle that I've been going through within myself. As recently as age 18, most folks generally would have described me as a sweet, kind, gentle, teddy bear type (I hate the comparison FYI). I still get those types of compliments occassionally, but over the past seven or so years, I've also noticed a distinct change in myself...somewhere I've channelled the ability to find anger. My temper is hotter than its ever been. My concern for how others will react to things that I say is non-existent....I honestly couldn't argue with anyone who would call me mean...And I don't like that about myself. Even the relationships I have with women are changing. Once upon a time I could honestly stand before people and say that I was different....but even that's changed. I feel as if I'm becoming more like other cats with my attitudes towards women....part of that is because of some atypically bad break-ups, part is because of some shots that didn't quite beat the buzzer...all of it is rooted in actually putting myself out there on a limb...making myself open and vulnerable, and having the branch snap from beneath me. A lot of it has to do with poor communication...actually alot of it has to do with alot of things that I will discuss in a later poem ("Birth of a Purse Snatcher") once I'm able to work my thoughts out on that piece, so I'll cut this short and leave you all with this.
I'm a strong believer that if nothing is ventured, then nothing is gained. If you expect to make progress in life, you have to put yourself your mind, your heart, your sanity on the line occasionally. I want to make these strides and have laid myself out at the mercy of the world and several people many a time, and not gotten the responses I've seeked. Needless to say, in a nutshell, this poem is about how life has effected my development from a person a really liked but wasn't built for the world, into a person who I don't like as much, but has the tools necessary to make it in this cold world. So, as I lay back in the therapist's chair.........enjoy
And for those of you trying to figure out exactly what events led to me feeling this way.....the poem was written in the summer of '08 and is based on a great deal more than relationships with the fairer sex
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it's like the bitter chill made the whole world sit still
the air's stagnant
my face numbed from glares of ill will
ice grills backed with bad intention, I feel...
compelled as black mamba tryna kill bill
laid at the will of killers with penchants for doing jus that
and their cold, cold hearts are so real
and so hungry for blood meals
and even more so in such a cold December
they say only the strong survive
but I beg to differ
because the strong die too
and they get lied to
but the wise know truth and rule the strong
because though they lives lived short, their words live long
and shake every man’s soul
tiptoeing through time on the airs of whispers, they hear you
and the words are held so dear
and in the chill still heard so clear
and even more so in such a cold December
the coldness only makes me more conscious of my environment’s violence
and the fact that the more I live in this climate
the more I die within
only the Lord knows where my fire went
cause now this artic has made me lethargic and heartless
and unaware of how to navigate the darkness
and somehow I lost my way and now I’m gone forever
as if I left footprints trailing away in this cold December’s driven snow
don’t act as if you didn’t know
although I understand if the flow of your thoughts became frozen cold
like the ice water pumping through my veins
clearly I’ll never again be the same
and I want somebody to blame
or at least explain this change
and the answer came as wintry rain dancing on my face
each drop tinged with pain
and it hurts even more so in such a cold December
i never felt so alive as when i died
riding with the righteous side
fighting for what my heart desired
nevertheless, my hair’s turned grayed
my eyes is pitch white and my skin is fading away
i'm one amongst the masse, it’s tragic
that I’ve been forced to assimilate the fabric
and my mind too
the mirror’s frosted up but no reflection needed to know I’ve become you
and the chickens done come roost in the midst of this cold, cold, December
and now I find myself wishing bad on others peoples mothers
death upon other peoples brothers
it's so hard when u discover that you are no longer the you, you once knew
staring at the mirror wondering who is that dude
and you haven’t one clue
like a nigga flew over the cuckoo’s nest and left you
sitting a alone
and that’s cold, even for a cold December
even my heart is frostbitten
twice shy, indifferent
iced more than a quarter-century's exposure should allow
the result of repeated frigid impacts upon an unreciprocated affections
i've grown calloused and unwilling to try any longer
my tongue has sharpened
my concern, now non-existent
i am no longer merely influenced
you can see my body shiver, reacting to the temperature
trying to resist the bitter side-effect of contact
but it's useless
I AM cold
Even for a cold, cold December
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