Category Archives: I’m Just Saying!

the song of the horse eaters

singing in captivity is not a sign of happy slaves nor is dancing which may occur almost anywhere grace in the storm may be hard to understand may not always be seen as divinity holding hands with resilience what do … Continue reading

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The Horse Eater’s Children

i can only go back three generations ten generations is your pantheon of ancestors i am short six generations i can only go forward maybe one day I can go back across to the other side of the graveyard in … Continue reading

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Child of the Horse Eaters

  I am a horse eater I am dungeon seed my pantheon divided 6/10’s  on the other side of the water 4 generations walk after crossing the graveyard in the ocean exiting doors of no return I have not returned … Continue reading

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12. 26. 15

red cloth tales & miracles abound I am on the bottom of the ocean walking the bones with Wilson we follow the 1024 a solemn pantheon grandparents great grand parents we walk where they walked how they walked great greats … Continue reading

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The Sad and Sorry Tale of Caesar Wilkes. (Radio Golf: Production notes #1)

To understand the end one must have an appreciation for the beginning. So as I begin production of Radio Golf by August Wilson I am compelled to look back over the American Century Cycle to the beginning. I met Caesar … Continue reading

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the house hustle made

this is the house hustle made born blessings due 101 in the shade rough rider striding through life behind the veil imperial no fade  the light in the house  hustle made instructed by the bones bottom of the ocean on … Continue reading

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weathered

standing in the storm rust the soul stand too long you crumble from within the ocean leaking from your middle saltwater eating at the outside I was born  standing in the storm long drops falling without end pregnant with sorrow … Continue reading

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Old Men

blue black creased by living gin on their breath underneath the weight of the crush of being born invisible 5 dollar cigars and knowing in their mouths long eyes pained by memory grown in the shadows of years stacked atop … Continue reading

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Race Card

prelude language could help us build the truth wake it from where it sleeps if used like surgeons knives to cut past the fat the augmentations of smoke and mirror language has ever been a weapon always in the beginning … Continue reading

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a final dream of flight

i have a pen i have written my own story i read yours it was narrow sad predictable on so many levels it did not predict my flight i wrote it over the text offered i spoke it softly looking … Continue reading

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