An open letter By: A Miseducated Young Black Genius

 To: Whoever decides to crack open this sad excuse for a note book and read my notes… this is something to try and understand about your author…

I don’t believe people understand the upbringing of the vast amount of African American people like me.  I was once confused on what I was meant to do in this world, at first I thought it was all about the girls and being the center of attention, To have the glorious shine of the lime light cast over me. I remember watching cars drive by on my block and I would just sit there in awe, Me and my creative imagination thought that  maybe one day I can wake up in a car of my dreams with the women that everyone desires.

 Figures, I wanted the life of a simple man walking around my hood with a simple plan. Now think for a minute who could pass that up, the money and the cream, it only comes with the price of ducking all those bullets and crooked schemes. You see I wanted the life of a foolish man, one that showed I didn't have a foolish chance…

 Dam…

I grew up from that mind state; I learn that the slow road has a better success rate, I saw that men that worked hard for their family, did right by their wives, & kept living through the stressful days and trials will all find their own individual heaven in the sky. I started to look for a better dream, something that could keep my mind clean, but at the same time something that could keep my mind playing. Because, you see, life is and will always be a game. It is actually “thee” game & I always wanted to be challenged so I play. I wanted to find the best way out, so I did, college was my next level in the game of life. It’s a long trip to the road of success but after these four years it shall all be worth it.

I found that women that everyone else wants and I didn't even have to flip any bricks. I try to keep her close so my eyes won’t wonder though, Temptation is a deadly sin, and it’s easy to fall deep into the trap being the simple minded ones better known as men.

Realize that I grew up without a father, no one ever showed me how to get pass the cannon fodder, & no one showed me how to ride a bike or how to talk to a chick. These are things I learned how to do on my own and add some of my own tricks. & I had to learn through all my mistakes, I don’t take them as an action or judgment that is misguided or wrong, I used them as lessons that I can keep locked in my brain to keep me going on.  

God, I wonder what is going on with you, everyone calls you their father but to me you are cool. The Idea you bring to our people makes me understand why you are around but at the same time will all that happens to us things do start to fall short from your crown. I learned everything when you wanted to teach it, I even keep minimal contact with you just so you know that I believe in you; but you see man I’m stuck in this world still trying to get the difference, why life can be so hard but I see a whole lot of other people live through it so proficient, & it’s sickening… not knowing what to do.

For now I will just stay here in school

& make my time worth it…

Truly yours:

A Miseducated Young Black Genius 

From inside my window

From what I see inside my window can make a man go blind. Pain, Heartache, and all of this I keep inside.

This is no regular window to the outside of any ones house.

Nah, this is a window that’s looking inside to me, my soul, my problems, and my stress.

True friends, Seems to be a lack of them. Love, never really had a real pass at me, Karma, Is still and forever will be a bitch, jealousy, still a problem I have yet to work on, and trust, That word is dead like chivalry, who can you trust when everyone wants to be number one.

There is fog in my window, must be from the smoke I blow. There is rain falling on my window pane, it might be the tears or I’m just slowly going insane, there cracks in my window, must be the pride, there are bars blocking people out, I’m neglecting that my grandfather died.

From inside my window you would rather be the one looking in, because on the inside I don’t know where I should start or when the glass frame ends.

The Thief

Stolen…now when you think of the word stolen you think of bad...Horrible…unspeakable things well this thief as I shall call her has swept in to my dorm room at the depth of night. Gray sweat pants purple jacket fuzzy long black hair. This person came in to my room one night looked through all of my belongings and stole something near and dear to my soul. Something, that can’t be replaced, something that only one can have and many would love to grab.  This thief came in to my place of peace and mixed them self in to the gumbo of my life. This thief lay in my bed and played in my emotions under the bed sheets. My Prized Possession is missing, lost but found… Because see I set this up I put my Goods on the line and let all my defenses down and called the attack dogs off to let this person in.  I am the one that sat in the back and watched the robbery take place. I opened the door for her, and showed her the way to the jackpot… she got it.

When she realizes what I have done….she will understand how important my heart is to me...and she can keep it as long as she likes

Bunch of unsober thoughts

So if I die before I wake what would my father say? 40Oz's  mixed with dro & pain let’s see what’s 1st to go away. I was down in the dumps & there just  ain't really much more to say, an intellectual misunderstood can make one’s sanity just to go astray.

& my mind’s never relaxing, there’s perks to being a Queens nigga & they insure satisfaction. I'm only out here to please people that never experienced any action, but t what does it take for me to get people to give me some type of other  reaction.

They say my time is coming but it really doesn't look that way to me; they take a glance at my poems & their first response is that they think it’s deep. Well what else can you give to me, everything I write is me, do I need to dumb it down  so maybe you can futher explain some things to me.

I’m still smoking sour cause I couldn't find no better shit, People want to watch me walk in to a grave, but the thing is I will forever live. I only celebrate when the greats admire me on my penmanship & I often look for acceptance from the people that want to show companionship.

If no one recognizes me it’s cool, but I wish you kind of did & this isn't a poem no more it’s just something to kind of fill you in. I just roll with the punches, I’m gone with this fire hemp my stanzas are so cool they remind me of the breeze of the wind on  October 10th.

Your words don't mean shit when you write poems like an idiot; I started to rhyme a lot but all the things I write are ligament. Always working on my craft & you ask "what the fuck for?" I write this from gut & the pain of my peoples misunderstood belligerence.

They tell me all I need is swag, they tell me I need these Armani suits & Louie slacks, all the Philly niggas say “you got to get in your bag.” But I break a Philly down & contemplate bout what’s in this bag, I inhale the stress & just laughs.

Falling for love isn't something you can take easy; I know I have some angels in my past & they will greet me when they see me, and then maybe we patch it up, things aren't that bad & tough, lose pride and try to just bring it up, The topic of the discussion is still near & dear to me.

I remember when it would be 3 in the morning & I was on the block with some hood niggas, no college degree but they family & that’s why everyone chilled with us. We used to get double cup loopy, just kicking freestyles while the world turns & I would pray to God that everything would be good with us.

Are you good with us? cause I give up sinning, I tell these girls that I’m in love but I’m just pushed to other women, I stay on cloud 5 cause broken hearts are just a given, that’s probably why I speak so negative with such conviction.

An Unordinary 1st impression

Swimming for women I’m devious like a shark..... Hold up; let me stop before I get ahead of myself. I know my wealth & what I'm capable of, I see the fame & the lights, that rape-able love, that love you can't kick off like a drug ,& so what , I don't fall in line like most niggas. I'm not regularly divine like the people that find safe haven with the nine. My mind is in another place, somewhere out in the land of the "Un-ordinary". The farther from people's commentary can keep me out the cemetery. I was told to take advice from the mouth of one man, but that man's dead now so where can this one stand? That’s a good question, I'm just trying to make a great 1st impression, but whatever you think of me is gladly left to your discretion.

My Notebook

She wants a nickel for my thoughts; I gave her a dollar for all my tears and a story of all my pain that I've been through for all of my years. She said she wanted more so I told her all my fears, then I tried to end it with a story full of cheers. It didn't last long so yeah, I kind of froze, it’s like sad situations are the only things a young brother knows.

I took a deep breath because she makes me shy. I really try to hide it but she has the ability to see it in my eyes. I told her I can do her no wrong but I think she feels its all lies. I just hope this love I have will not be the event of my demise …

Worthy

   Sometimes like the sun rises and when it soon falls I awake with thoughts of you and I enter slumber with internal visions of you in my dreams. You're my every waking moment until the moment I rest my eyes upon you. And I think to myself in the sublime moment of truth, are you worth it? I contemplate the situation over and over in my head thinking, wondering; dreaming is this love for me? Or will this be another run around looking for love like it used to be or is this something tangible to my reality? I sit, I wonder, I think is this a good investment of my time? Because when I invest in something like this, I'm in it till the earth stops moving or until I stop moving. I was always a sucker for a woman’s touch but never like this. Your visions in my brain makes me weak. I complain about you in my sleep, but no one hears me. Then I see you again a year later after my decision was made and my friends ask me in the up most honest way “was it worth it?" I answer nine months later "yeah"