Daydreamin' like Lupe
A new watch & a new day.
Im on repeat like a replay
I woke up with nothin' else 2 say.
Im sick like pneumonia
Lookin' for Miss California.
lookin' for tha cure
she's gotta be pure.
I found her at the gym
som1 must of left her.
Im only four years old
but too pretty 2 neglect her.
Moms says use a rubber
so thats what im doing.
Yea im her new Lover.
Its her that im persuin'.
She's MY LIFE like hi-tek wrote.
Controllin me like a remote.
How lucky that person used 2 be...
Now that Im Thinkn about it They left her for me...
Monday, December 17, 2007
The Water
Water at my feet.
Not feeling for nothing.
Looking at what i want.
not clear but its something.
Past blows by me.
future is visible.
noone knows about my life.
they just know its livable. lol
Now the water is rushing.
A tsunami it seems.
with all of my mistakes.
with all of my dreams.
too short for worries.
no time for sorrow.
Thank God for yesterdays.
And prepare for tomorrow.
Now the water is at my neck.
The choking lock its holding in.
When Its done, ITS DONE!, ITS OVER!
No extra time, No Loss, No Win.
Not feeling for nothing.
Looking at what i want.
not clear but its something.
Past blows by me.
future is visible.
noone knows about my life.
they just know its livable. lol
Now the water is rushing.
A tsunami it seems.
with all of my mistakes.
with all of my dreams.
too short for worries.
no time for sorrow.
Thank God for yesterdays.
And prepare for tomorrow.
Now the water is at my neck.
The choking lock its holding in.
When Its done, ITS DONE!, ITS OVER!
No extra time, No Loss, No Win.
Monday, December 10, 2007
STRONG WOMAN
She raised 9 children,
She was their father...
She loved all her sons and all of her daughters.
Never asked for help from No1 else...
Through disease of the heart like the stab of a sword...
She continued to work for her precious LORD.
It Still Hurts...
I Remember...
I could never forget.
The day we met.
Like it was yesterday.
The Pain, the sorrow, the cries.
The evil in your eyes.
It hurts so bad inside.
Inside it hurts so bad.
The sounds, the image, the lights.
The long and sleepless nights.
The vivid memory.
Of what you did to me.
That day...
It hurt so bad inside.
Inside it hurts so bad.
Unexpected...
I faced you.
No matter how strong your hold was.
I beat you.
Through blood and tears.
I faced my fears.
I won the fight.
Because Im still here.
It still hurts so bad inside.
Inside of me it still hurts so bad.
This day...
That which doesnt kill me makes me stronger.
Time for me to heal will take longert.
But...
God always prevails.
But YOU did do your part.
Because it still hurts in my heart...
To this day...
I remember...
I will never forget.
The day we met.
Serendipity
The most beautiful day of summer, almost as if it had rained all night before and every
one’s sins had been washed away. There was no comparison to this joyous and grateful
spirit that filled this day.. It was as if it was to good to be true, maybe it was. The
certainty of progression was present this day but it also seemed as if the day would
never end, it never did in my mind. The constant repetition and series of events that
stack on top of one another remains in the same exact order every time I think about
my last day of summer. From pleasure to horror, positive to negative, happiness to
sorrow, my Life went from an everlasting dream that gave me hopes for better days to a
nightmare that haunts me to this day.
I knew the last day of summer was special because unlike the other days, I awoke early.
Awakening early emphasized the feeling that this was going to be a unique day. My
brother, my best friend and I always had this vibe when it came to going outside to play
ball. Sometimes we would play at the park or we would even be so anxious that we would
just go outside of my house to play. Although this was our regular routine especially
during this time as school began to creep up, we decided to have an early morning
workout to start our day. I have never experienced anything more satisfying than playing
basketball with a group of ball players who not only play just as well as you do or better
but who are also your family.
The rays of heat reflected in the sun dribbling off the sweat down our backs as we
ran up and down the court, we were in heaven. Our anguished sneakers squeaked as we
ran, jumped, pushed and tugged competitively. Winning and losing was all that mattered
to us, nothing more or less. We played over and over and over again. Battle wounds and
scars covered our knees and elbows. We scraped against the floor causing the presence of
blood. We continued to play our hearts out for no ones satisfaction but our own. The
blood did not stop us.
We played non stop for hours and hours. We willingly sacrificed blood and sweat for the
game. Where we come from basketball is life. It is life and its funny because this day was
filled with life. No sign of any unfortunate situations that tend to come our way this time
of year in Los Angeles, no sign at all. We didn’t want to see that sign, we did not care
much for it. That side of reality was not as pleasant. Unexpectedly, the tempo was
altered. It was comparable to playing in a basketball game, losing a twenty point lead, and
eventually losing the game. One of the hardest things to do in life is to take a loss.
It was home, sweet home after a long day of doing what we love most; all we did was
ball. The moons mysterious demeanor replaced the sunny rays of light. My kid brother,
best friend and I sat in the living room vivacious and energized as though we had been in
the house all day with cabin fever, but that wasn’t the case. We were praised the man
above. We clapped our hands and stomped our feet. His spirit floated through the room.
However, there was another spirit in our presence. It was an uninvited spirit.
At 10:46 p.m. the sense of uncertainty and fear invaded our mood of worship as well as
our home. Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! My life changed forever in an instant. Neither would
the lives of anyone else in my family be the same. The cries of my three little sisters as
they witness the blood seep through my fingers, the shocked look on my best friends face
as he remains on the couch, in a trance, speechless as though his voice was stolen from
him, the pain in my little brothers moan as he lay on the floor protecting his face. I could
not panic. I did not panic, and I would not panic. Every part of my body told me to give in
and that my life was meant to be over but I couldn’t believe that my life would end at 16
years of age. I could not give in.
The confusion of my neighbors around me including my uncle as he ramped and raved
about who had done this to us. I could see the pain in his eyes as he stared into mine.
”Keep talking”. “Everything will be okay” he said. I kept everyone else around me calm. I
did not prioritize the fact that I was the victim of this drive-by-shooting. I felt
weak as I held a towel on my neck to slow the blood flow. In my mind I was strong.
I kept telling myself to hold on just a little while longer. I prayed repetitively. I prayed out
loud. I prayed “Lord take care of me”. I was scared to stop talking. I was scared. I was
not ready to speak my last words. I noticeably played back every memory in my mind
that night as I sat there and waited. The joy and happiness of this day was
washed away and ruined by the creator of evil himself, but I never gave him the power.
Two days later I awakened in the hospital unaware that I could not speak, I
could only write to my mother, my friends, and family. I Remained unconscious most of
the time during the first three days. I had a huge tube down my throat which caused me
months of pain long after the incident. I was alive. My brother was also alive. The doctors
told me that the bullet went through my Thyroid, hit my brother at the top of his mouth,
and eliminated 3 of his teeth. Because the bullet went through me first, this reduced the
speed of the bullet and saved my little brothers life. Doctor’s said if the bullet had not
gone through me first my kid brother would have died instantly.
Rehabilitation was hard for me. Instead of sleeping, I cried most nights in the hospital.
Nightmares and replays of that night corrupted the little sleep that I tried to get. I was
scared. I was worried about the next time I played ball. I was worried whether or not my
voice would return.. I was so unsure about everything. I continuously asked myself, “why
me?” I wondered about who the shooters were and why they chose my home, “what did
we do?” I had many questions. I had my seventeenth birthday in the hospital. I was still
alive. I was happy. I cried. I smiled. I got up and walked around the hospital. I imagined
myself back on the court. That negative energy kept trying to pull me back down, the
happier I got I could feel him trying to kill my spirit. I rebuked the devil in the name of
Jesus and I forgave those who attempted to end the lives of two strong men. We walked
out of that hospital head high, stronger than ever. Despite the challenge of picking up
where we left off, we were there the first day of school. It was my senior year of high
school and my brother’s first year as a freshman. We made it! We fought
hand and hand behind our gracious God and we continue to fulfill our purpose on this
earth because we are still here for a reason. Life is Precious.
one’s sins had been washed away. There was no comparison to this joyous and grateful
spirit that filled this day.. It was as if it was to good to be true, maybe it was. The
certainty of progression was present this day but it also seemed as if the day would
never end, it never did in my mind. The constant repetition and series of events that
stack on top of one another remains in the same exact order every time I think about
my last day of summer. From pleasure to horror, positive to negative, happiness to
sorrow, my Life went from an everlasting dream that gave me hopes for better days to a
nightmare that haunts me to this day.
I knew the last day of summer was special because unlike the other days, I awoke early.
Awakening early emphasized the feeling that this was going to be a unique day. My
brother, my best friend and I always had this vibe when it came to going outside to play
ball. Sometimes we would play at the park or we would even be so anxious that we would
just go outside of my house to play. Although this was our regular routine especially
during this time as school began to creep up, we decided to have an early morning
workout to start our day. I have never experienced anything more satisfying than playing
basketball with a group of ball players who not only play just as well as you do or better
but who are also your family.
The rays of heat reflected in the sun dribbling off the sweat down our backs as we
ran up and down the court, we were in heaven. Our anguished sneakers squeaked as we
ran, jumped, pushed and tugged competitively. Winning and losing was all that mattered
to us, nothing more or less. We played over and over and over again. Battle wounds and
scars covered our knees and elbows. We scraped against the floor causing the presence of
blood. We continued to play our hearts out for no ones satisfaction but our own. The
blood did not stop us.
We played non stop for hours and hours. We willingly sacrificed blood and sweat for the
game. Where we come from basketball is life. It is life and its funny because this day was
filled with life. No sign of any unfortunate situations that tend to come our way this time
of year in Los Angeles, no sign at all. We didn’t want to see that sign, we did not care
much for it. That side of reality was not as pleasant. Unexpectedly, the tempo was
altered. It was comparable to playing in a basketball game, losing a twenty point lead, and
eventually losing the game. One of the hardest things to do in life is to take a loss.
It was home, sweet home after a long day of doing what we love most; all we did was
ball. The moons mysterious demeanor replaced the sunny rays of light. My kid brother,
best friend and I sat in the living room vivacious and energized as though we had been in
the house all day with cabin fever, but that wasn’t the case. We were praised the man
above. We clapped our hands and stomped our feet. His spirit floated through the room.
However, there was another spirit in our presence. It was an uninvited spirit.
At 10:46 p.m. the sense of uncertainty and fear invaded our mood of worship as well as
our home. Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! My life changed forever in an instant. Neither would
the lives of anyone else in my family be the same. The cries of my three little sisters as
they witness the blood seep through my fingers, the shocked look on my best friends face
as he remains on the couch, in a trance, speechless as though his voice was stolen from
him, the pain in my little brothers moan as he lay on the floor protecting his face. I could
not panic. I did not panic, and I would not panic. Every part of my body told me to give in
and that my life was meant to be over but I couldn’t believe that my life would end at 16
years of age. I could not give in.
The confusion of my neighbors around me including my uncle as he ramped and raved
about who had done this to us. I could see the pain in his eyes as he stared into mine.
”Keep talking”. “Everything will be okay” he said. I kept everyone else around me calm. I
did not prioritize the fact that I was the victim of this drive-by-shooting. I felt
weak as I held a towel on my neck to slow the blood flow. In my mind I was strong.
I kept telling myself to hold on just a little while longer. I prayed repetitively. I prayed out
loud. I prayed “Lord take care of me”. I was scared to stop talking. I was scared. I was
not ready to speak my last words. I noticeably played back every memory in my mind
that night as I sat there and waited. The joy and happiness of this day was
washed away and ruined by the creator of evil himself, but I never gave him the power.
Two days later I awakened in the hospital unaware that I could not speak, I
could only write to my mother, my friends, and family. I Remained unconscious most of
the time during the first three days. I had a huge tube down my throat which caused me
months of pain long after the incident. I was alive. My brother was also alive. The doctors
told me that the bullet went through my Thyroid, hit my brother at the top of his mouth,
and eliminated 3 of his teeth. Because the bullet went through me first, this reduced the
speed of the bullet and saved my little brothers life. Doctor’s said if the bullet had not
gone through me first my kid brother would have died instantly.
Rehabilitation was hard for me. Instead of sleeping, I cried most nights in the hospital.
Nightmares and replays of that night corrupted the little sleep that I tried to get. I was
scared. I was worried about the next time I played ball. I was worried whether or not my
voice would return.. I was so unsure about everything. I continuously asked myself, “why
me?” I wondered about who the shooters were and why they chose my home, “what did
we do?” I had many questions. I had my seventeenth birthday in the hospital. I was still
alive. I was happy. I cried. I smiled. I got up and walked around the hospital. I imagined
myself back on the court. That negative energy kept trying to pull me back down, the
happier I got I could feel him trying to kill my spirit. I rebuked the devil in the name of
Jesus and I forgave those who attempted to end the lives of two strong men. We walked
out of that hospital head high, stronger than ever. Despite the challenge of picking up
where we left off, we were there the first day of school. It was my senior year of high
school and my brother’s first year as a freshman. We made it! We fought
hand and hand behind our gracious God and we continue to fulfill our purpose on this
earth because we are still here for a reason. Life is Precious.
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