conversation standing barefoot on 135 @ 1am

me: hi
officer: how r u?
me: fine
officer: i pulled u over because your registration has expired
me: yes sir
officer: may i see you dl, proof of registration, and insurance please
me: yes sir (shit im gone...handed him id, insurance, and registration)
officer: you don't have an license?
me: not anymore sir
officer: how old r u?
me: 37 sir
officer: you know better right?
me: yes sir i do
officer:hold on (walks to his car)
me: (crap i'm soooo gone)
officer: ma'am do u have shoes on?
me: no sir
officer:can u put them on?
(now i know im gone)
me: my shoes were killing me sir, do i have to put them back on
officer: thats up to u, please come back here with me
(i turn to put my phone down....female cop smiling at me from passenger side...where the hell did she come from?...her hand was on her gun...images of me getting my head blown off...images of others getting the same fate)
officer: have u been drinking tonite?
me: yes sir
officer: how many?
me: one drink sir.........(YEAH RIGHT)
officer: have u had any illicit drugs tonite?
me: no sir........(YEAH RIGHT)
officer: then u wouldn't mind if i have my dog come and search your car
me: no sir not at all(trying not to flinch, calling his bluff.....there really was no dog)
officer: where r u coming from?
me: antonios
officer: u wk there?
me: no sir, i am a poet...we have an open mic every wednesday (crap just told him how to find me....wondering if i should invite him to the showcase on sat?)
officer: you know if i really want to push the issue i would say that tag on your window is illegal
me: the green one sir?
me: yes sir, you would be right
officer: thank u for your honesty (then proceeds to issue me 4 citations)
officer: please take care of these before next month okay
me: i will sir, thank u
officer: have a good night ma'am
me: the same to u sir
crap crap crap double crap
so honesty is the best policy
anybody got a money tree i can have?

i can't find the words

i have been in a writing funk lately. bits and pieces come to me, nothing ever completed. though in a funk, i feel something brewing just below the surface...like watching a pot boil on simmer. my fellow poet and friend, who i also claim my big brotha b has been such an inspiration for me. he is one of the few people in my life that require nothing of me but to just 'be'. so we got together last night for a one on one writing lab. did some good...the piece he is working on is phenomenal...and i hope he shares it soon w/the rest of us. we gave one another subjects and words to use -so here it goes-in progress of course:
Open notebook
pages before me-empty
empty like a mother's arms awaiting her firt born
who will never return from war
the silence of my mind
of my own pen
is deafening
i cant find the words

nouns, verbs, metaphors and similies
play hide and seek within the corners of my mind
and i'm always it
laid out
stretched too thin
i torment myself
with this game of cat and mouse
only to be trapped inside a cage with no bars
a life sentence
i plead for clemency
even parole will do

at night i pray to the poet gods for clarity
lay sacrifices of cannibus at their feet
they tease me in my sleep
speak to me in whispers and ironies
with promises of tomorrow you will write
only to allude one more time come mornng light
i feel like i'm failing fast
feriously fighting for a poet's faith
only to freefall thru my own mind
like alice in wonder land

doubt feels these pages
i know what it is to be blind
for i see nothing
i just cant find the words
abandoned by my own or was it mutiny?
for stagnancy and mediocracy have taken over
like a virus invading the thought process only to process nothing
i need an injection to cure this viral infection of writer's block

i want to become my own surgeon
extract my brain
dissect my memories
let the past and present spill onto this paper
take my heart out
give it a beat
a cadence
extract my soul
give it life
amputate my hands
so it will grab you and pull you in
sever my veins
let the blood fll my pen
recreate who it is i am
was
or yet to be
....................................not finished

Observing thru the haze w/in my mind

wedneday night i did not partake in the feast of the-as usual-hot azz mic. several reasons as to why. it was quite an interesting experience just merely watching. i had to leave my seat and stand against the wall to really take it all in. People never fail to amaze me....and poets, well we are in a league of our own. i saw perfection ats its peak, saw some who just needed to be heard, saw weights lifted and burdens shifted. i saw the timid hide what they dare not read, of you i say comeback please.i saw how some crave the mic, for it is the only place they are able to be heard. i saw smiles, grimaces, rolling of the eyes, and tears fall. i saw myself then, now, and where i want to be, in all of these faces. i am coming to yet another crossroad in my life. strange feeling, like traveling on a path made but no stones unturned yet, the setting sun at your back and the moon is your only source of light. bring a light jacket, winds of change are coming.
i feel her screaming at me w/in the lining of my soul. she is tired of my own mediocracy, has always expected more of me...yet i always let myself down. she has words dying to be heard, but will i die before they are heard?
i feel her fire burning, but i keep water by my pen....why?
pray for the poet god's to sacrifice my soul for her freedom...for her words to be heard.