Concrete Love

 Real  L                              whole. 
E             O                  made         Companion
 V                V           be                 Only yours
  E                  E    to                    Made for you
    R                   is                      Passionate
      Y                                       Loving kisses
         W                                Everlasting
             A                        Thoughtful
                 Y               Encouraging
                     !        Inviting always
                         Never demanding



Raw feelings dressed in lexicon verse
Ink poured out, inadequate to contain
The thoughts lost in translation’s curse
Hieroglyphic scratch that fails to retain
Impassion’s triumph redeemed in terse
Watered script left, composed aflame

If these pages could consistently convey
Love’s passion with feelings to impart
Today, all my words just get in the way
When I try to write what is in my heart
If you could hear the things I fail to say
Together then, we could imbue true art



Endeavoring to acquire a pleasing reflection
  to earn the company of your personal affection
I feel myself growing, becoming what you see
  but in transformation am no longer sure of me
Maybe you could indicate to where I was sent
  and to whom my heart purposely has been lent
For you now, I no longer exist
Find me, accept me, love me
   In this thing, I must persist


Why Do I Write?

    I am the kind of person that likes to reason things out and work with the ‘end in mind’ before I begin. Yet, writing this daily blog is an endeavor where I don’t know were I am going. It seems that I stumble along just trying to put some letters on paper. Some days things just pour out of me, and on others, it is really an arduous process. Also, there is the thing that once I create something, then I have feelings for it. Those feelings can be good, bad or indifferent, but they are still feelings. Feelings that I have and would have never encountered, had I not created the thing. Sometimes I feel it would be better to not….create.
    Why do I write? I tried FaceBook before coming to Tumblr, and can say that experience did not turn out well. Despite me having close to two hundred friends, none commented and very few 'liked’. It makes me feel like the creation died upon print, like the words did not mean a thing. I asked some over time why they did not comment, 'like’, or even read the creation. For the most part, It is claimed that they do not understand me or are to lazy to click on a note, since FB limits me to 420 characters. This surprised me some, because after all, I did read their mundane colloquial phrase stuff. The preverbal “Good Morning”, or “Now I am eating”. It makes me sick. I refuse to believe that human beings do not desire deeper thought, laced with meaning and thoughtfulness.
    Why do I write? Sometimes I desire to tell someone something. To impart knowledge that I have collected along the way, something really erudite or majestic. Other times I imagine my words will be inspirational, something some lonely person can cling to for the day. Then there are the times where I need a soapbox and pretend my audience is trapped and must listen to my rant. I have found that at least for me, It is an effective cathartic outlet. It frees up my mind to just write it down.
    Why do I write? Because you are reading and listening, and I know you are much like me. Just another person on the planet with something small to say, that can somehow make a difference or establish the fact that we are here and not alone. Just know that I am here and daily reading you.
    Why do I write? The answer really is, I don’t know.
                                                                                              I just do.



Insidious conclave, she prompts me posthaste

Addict’s hunger, she requires a delicacy to taste
Devious advance refrains prolog of my resist 
Obsidian eyes, whet my desire; I don’t pretend
Revel in love’s sting, actuates our secret tryst
Entwined our bodies endeavor to comprehend
Decoy of what is amiss upon my mental heist

Your intoxicate kiss conveys shivers of delight
Only this pure love can feed me and feel right
Undulate waves sweep each intoxicating bite

       Yielding no defense I sacrifice myself to write
        I ADORED YOU
       and lay dying, succumbed by sensual appetite



Sometimes more than others, things in life seem to carry to much weight. We are faced with life decisions, more important than the ones we face on a daily basis. Decisions about college, career, and family that could be the key decision that shapes the rest of our lives. It is hard to know if the move to a new job is the change we need to highlight our leadership abilities, or if our move will allow others to get the promotion that would be ours, if we would only stay. Big decisions can define who we are and how people will view and respect us.

How often do we stop to ponder the decision of our faith? Have we relentlessly procrastinated in making a life choice and kicked the can down the road? Fearing that a final decision here can lock us into a label that will define who we are and pronounce once and for all, a boxed in set of rules to govern our lives. Our johari window is open for the world to see and must be filled with our choice, not relegated to be determined by a prefixed paradigm provided by the history of a choice. Our resolute pride abdicates this view, for we are seekers of free will and absolute choice. Yet, in our hearts we know, there can be only one choice. Simple really, we believe in a creator or resign it all to chance. Yet, what about our decision to always speak the truth to ourselves. We have resolved that to lie to ourselves is the biggest lie of all. What does it matter what other people think? The most important factor here is to find the truth of me. Yes, we pause to think that there can be only one truth that stands bright amongst the minutia of information bombarding our decision. We instinctively know that there is only one way that will lead us to the creator whom made us in His image. Some decisions do weight heavier than others and certainly this one is the most important. We could refute His existence, claim agnosticism or atheism. After all, this does make us look like part of the intelligentsia and surmounts wonderful conversation topics, but can we speak what may be the ultimate human demise? To proclaim that our existence is only by chance and conclude that this thought is lost without ever reaching His ears.

Yes, believe now that somethings are worth our thought and consideration. Decisions that are important and weigh the most when we consider eternity and are faced with her great insurmountable levity.


Poet's Escape

Great poetry is composed of subjects that elicit strong emotion, treading deep into the fissures, leaving her cherished footprints upon the soft tissues of our inmost parts. Hearts commune via works in art, exhuming mastered strokes for the colored quandaries’ salve. Where cites of wisdom, insightful renderings and accumulated collections of ancestral tried voices, flame the heart’s candled call. Their echoed impress tossing fragments of meaning upon ragged edges, paving each crevice in a syrupy discourse, latent with melancholy meanderings of the soul. Proffering prose tears, those tepid fountains for the empty voyeur eyes, peering beneath voids long pumped dry, drenching fences of imprisoned bounds. The poets pasture knows no bounds and offers a deep valley wide. Nestle into green grass and listen as the gentle wind lifts upon the weights of your heart and the watery brook bubbles a life spring fountain for your troubled water, producing a sink of comfort resource. Within this varied valley place, search for me under the shade tree, buried beneath long blades of grass, gazing upward into a clear blue sky. There, gather close to feel the warmth of my words as I bleed dark stains upon the empty page of your heart. Then, we will compose a verse entwined together of how in life, we are truly alive.



Years of minutes drip by
where a man’s esteem ebbs and flows
in to the
mundane of an existence.
Confounding inordinate desire to grip life
by the throat and self-actualize the core of
his soul. Yield the creative prowess
to conquer the first
rendition of his heart.
To purpose and craft his course
and reach for
a dream!
May it consummate my last voice
and eulogize my last line of pure prose.



Relationships in life are like individual strands of a chord that weave together to form a rope that anchors me to my path. Some strands are long and well placed; they imbue the melancholy joy that effortlessly flows within my soul. Others are short strands of remembrances from long ago, a friend encountered by the way as I continued past. Yet, I find the most indelible cords are those that were in place for me at birth with the continuation of my family. Most of these strands now reflect only a memory of loved ones long past, Grandparents, Uncles, and Cousins. Yet, each person continued through life to weave a pattern that intertwined with mine in a unique way, thereby granting me a cherished moment or unique conservation that formed statues of immortal replicas within my memory. Years of sentimental reflection and nostalgic notions grant value to each strand and yield a sweet savor of memories and a strong anchor for my on journey. How important it is to know the value of each unique relationship no matter how small.


Draw Me

There is none like you
Draw out this man in me
This hidden man you see
Draw out this man in me
I ask for nothing else in life
The truth is not just how I feel
Here I am, a man in reveal
Train this heart for today
This one thing I pray
There is none like you

Else, I am lost



Train them to equip my way for less chaos while absent
Return to find order in motion, amazement of the ardent
Disturbed, displaced and wonderment of myself not needed
Revelation with relish feeling, duplicate of me succeeded

What happens when we are absent for a long time or move on to a new job.  As leaders we have to work to build replacements that can step into the critical processes we do that would cripple the enterprise if not completed in our absence.  The job of mentoring is very important and can be difficult to do.  Many times it is easier to complete the task ourselves than to bother with the training.  Sometimes, we wonder if the job will ever be done as we would like to see it.  We must press on and build in others the competence of achievement, and allow them to learn the way of excellence.  Then we will find that upon our absence all things will work with smooth efficiency.  It is like when one sticks their hand in a bucket of water and swirls it around creating upheaval of motion then quickly removes it.  If we watch closely we will see that after an initial disturbance of change the waves suspend and calm returns with gentle normalcy.  Our absence can create the change that causes a great commotion, but if we are diligent mentors then the ripples of change are just the waves of a new generation.



Anxious mood for the thing gone unsaid
   Beacon me lovely to your cool embrace
Atrocious grievance my tracks have tread
   Bring my fingers, your cheek line to trace
Anger upon the fray seems love’s intent
   Borrow my heart now and melt me away
Avenues of ardor calls us toward content
   Become mine now, known only for today
And forever know,
                       I am yours.



When you’re young and have it all figured out
Hold on to love and do not look back
When you are trudging forward strong and stout
Hold on to love and do not look back
When life catches up and crashes down on you
Hold on to love and do not look back
When wisdom is needed but you have not a clue
Hold on to love and do not look back
When you have lived a full life and now are through
Look back and see how love held you


Carpe Diem

Do not breach the scope of a honed plan
Or leach upon the heart of a scorned man
Nor seek to defeat the aim of his content
For a soul voided cries inward on the rent

Do not rest with hope shone for yesterday
To close eyes in death’s final plight of way
But light a new path with a hope that lingers
Till long aged tears are traced by her fingers

Life is love
Love is life



I lit a candle today,
and watched as the
flame leaped from the
match to the wick as a
mother gently passing life
to a child. She flickered just
a bit as the plume stretched as
far as it could reach. The fire was
defined by a brilliant yellow, blue and
red that stood bold against the backdrop
of a dark room. I could hear a small sound
as her amber sheen cracked into life and waifed
upon the liquid wax, flitting to and fro. Smoke collectively
swirled and lifted to the ceiling as it painted its dark path giving
evidence to the essence of the moment. I exhaled a deep breath and
watched the stamina of the flame resist its turbulence and flutter holding
fast to the knowledge of its own existence. The only one it knew, not
yielding to the extinguishing efforts of that wind. That persistent
wind who did prevail agains her fragile existence. In a final
tumble, the flame blew sideways and flicked out.
Exhausting all possessions into a billowing
smoke, giving rise to the magnificence
and prominence of her existence.

Today, August 28, I experienced
one more chronological trip
around the sun, and
realize my
for life is
the flame.



Now begins this new day
For me to know, I’m alone
Left for a while, got away
It’s to late now, I’ve gone

Thinking of you, all we had
I’m wrong, forgive me please
Miss you, makes me real sad
Take me back, I won’t leave

I love you, now know it’s true
Babe, if you just call my name
Quick, I’ll fly right back to you
Return, like a love boomerang

Won’t you call tonight.
We both know it’s right.
Just call my name.



Don’t we all necessitate to be seen?
Yearning to be known for who we are,
Not just what we do and how we think,
But a composite knowledge of our essence
Captured and existing in a friend’s mind.

When I look in your eyes my friend
I look to see if you know that “I see you”,
But my heart’s content, when the look I see
Contains the same, and you can see me.

Joy’s personification identified
in value of a few choice friends.