shut the door

and i'm still not able to listen to brian mcknight sing "one last cry" to the end.

so i substitute the playlist for one with nothing but sade.

and although her shxt is sad - none of those songs tell our story.

and as soon as i hear "it's only love that gets you through" i put it on song repeat for three goes around the merry-go-round - and all is well.

this is that part of life men fear.

i've lost my calf love on some road to fresh sneakers and low caesars.

college found her to be nothing but a memory in old journals and random get-ups over the school vacations.

but you were going to the be that love i married.

when we both seemed to disappear behind state lines and new lives - i moved on.

i found the warm dew of others to be equally comforting and their smiles to be just as bright.

a couple - even more so.

and the distance lessened - and we became too comfortable with the once new lives - and needed reassurance in the front seat of your suv.

i could have married you right there.

the music stopped when your door open and we needed to question what we did.

i'm still muslim.

you're still christian.

i'm not christian.

and i'm left to admit - i've never questioned any of it.

and i still don't want to.

i just want you to shut the door and allow your hands to find the back of my head.

i want out eyelashes to touch.

i just want you to shut the door so the music can play.

and now that i'm looking at the time and this half empty glass of vodka and naked juice i don't know what to tell you.

i just want you to shut the door - and let me explain to you why we don't look like what we've been through - together

and i promise - the music will play again.

this man i am becoming

i have fallen out of love with the man i am becoming.

he seems a bit too serious.

he's too focused on his goals and not focused enough on shiny things and tattoos.

well, shiny things have never really caught my attention unless we count the bangles marinda james (now smith) wore everyday since kindergarten. i loved her first. she taught me to color in the lines.

the man i am becoming seems to not tolerate too much, which is cool - but it's also getting rid of some of the dead weight (bad friends) that hung around.

there is no room for idiots, real-life assholes, and the incompetent.

-----

i heard a 25 year old bragging on his latest number bump.

he had gone from 75 to 81. not a bad leap in a matter of 3 days - but you're 25.

at 21 & sometimes 22 you're allowed the foolish mistakes and bad decisions that have to happen to shape paradigms and shxt of the sort - but at 25 you are not.

your biggest fxck up should not have a name and a ponytail.

there should be no left over goals tucked under your bed with your box of porn and dirty plates.

the house you live in should not be shared with your folks - and your name should not have to be written on the orange juice.

you are grown.

and then there is:

the economy is bad

student loans are expensive

mom needs help paying bills

trying to get your credit together

just graduated college and need to get on the good foot

this is the point where i sigh and not go into any of the bullshit excuses listed above.

-----

the man i am becoming - like the man i was - is still the most important thing.

he is to be loved with the mind - not the heart.

neither of us have quite learned a concrete method to break the mind (without sacrificing self).

so it's safer.

the heart is easily broken after the promises and expectations. they all seem to shatter.

they subscribe to chinua (smart people know what i'm talking about).

-----

the man i am becoming is closing this blog with the following:

there are no lucky people on this planet on which i live - just hustlers.

the last poem for you

i got one last train poem for you

i suggest we kiss hard under ads that ain't got shit to do with us

smile at people speaking curses under their breath

this ain't where we supposed to be

we should be giggling in our sleep

and smiling when we wake up to pee

we need to be in love late at night

in case the sun decides to not attend the party

8.24.09

is.it.a.crime?

you picked a fine time to leave me, lucille

so the picture you painted one christmas is no longer around
and neither are the socks you brought one birthday trying to be funny - but i wore them anyway because the old ones had holes

i miss the socks with the holes

i sat at a coffee shop today writing pieces of a script that began much like we did
a bit confusing - but simple nonetheless

coffee shops don't do it for me anymore
and i've been trying to get you to call me for the past month
word on the horn is you're playing house with your ex boyfriend

'but you don't get your dude back like that'

my number hasn't changed
it's been turned off a few times thanks to tmobile's fuck ups
but the number is still the same
and you haven't called me

you picked a fine time to leave me lucille

you can't even look me in the face anymore
i've started drinking again - drinking again
bottles of vodka and barefoot moscato

whoever is standing downwind of me is wearing chance perfume and drinking espresso
i'm sorry if the train of thought here gets derailed every so often
i'm not stable

there was confusion with that last letter you left
"don't let him take me. don't let him handle me and drive me mad"
there was something very gershwin about it.
something very porgy and bess about it

and the maxwell album is good but it will never beat out urban hang suite

'lead me on girl if you want
take my heart and my love
take of me all that you want
and if there's a thing that you need
i'd give you the breath that i breath
and if ever you yearn for the love in me
whenever whereever whatever
baby'

we practiced conceiving children to that song
hoping for at least one boy

your facebook status changed to 'married to' some clown
and i've been trying to get you to call for the past month

you hate me now because he can't live up to his potential no matter how hard he tries

you can't look me in the face because i remind you of a life that can no longer happen for you.
i remind you of that time you were happiest about your weight loss - and you said you'd never gain weight with me because you only gained weight when you were depressed.

you're mad at me because you're at your heaviest.

you picked a fine time to leave me, lucille

this may come as some surprise
but - i miss you
is it a crime that i still want you
and i want you to want me too?
you took his love
but it doesn't feel like mine

and i've been trying to get you to call me for a month

surely you want me back
i still want you
and i want you to want me too

i still love you!

i can't give you more that
surely you want me back.

you picked a fine time to leave me, lucille