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Thursday, August 12, 2010

A mistake...

We... she and I were defined by all these things...

...until it all broke.

I Couldn’t (Soulful Laments)
Female-Well, remember when I told you I had a confession a while ago?


Female-Can I tell you now?


Female-Promise to have an open mind and continue talking to me? You promise? Baby?



Male VO
He sat listening, not with bated breath but with the knowledge that he would feel a portion of the weight that had been weighing her down since he’d gone. It would be heavy, it would hurt. But he loved her so he was willing to be crushed verbally if it meant that it would heal the both of them emotionally.

Well, while you were away...
While we were unable to communicate
Back when I was just convinced that your omissions
Were deceptions and lies
When your letters never came
Just couldn't take
Not knowing anything
Back toward the second
Decided that I was no longer yours
It started with simply yelling
When the DJ asked where
All the single ladies are tonight
Then I started referring to you as “the former”
To myself when I would think about you
Started saying it casually in conversation,
You were “the former” to new people I met
Began to feel better about not knowing anything about you
Or how to contact you
Convinced myself that none of those things mattered
Because you were “the former”
So when guys would approach me
Words told them I was single
There were numbers
There were messages
Even invites
Held the way I wanted you to hold me
Conversations that I wanted from your lips
Attention I wanted from you
But of the guys that I've engaged in conversation with...
The best talks I've ever had were
With you
After calling you “the former”
While dancing with a new fire
And talking to different men
Still couldn't let you go
Couldn't stop thinking of you
Wishing for you
Praying for you
Promoting you
Despite my anger
Mentioning your name
Whenever fresh, new creative talent is topic of daily gab
My friends still know who you are
Because I never let you go
Even when I tried
Can't shake you
Of all the men I talked to,
None of them came close to you...
And frankly, it upset me
Disgusted that I couldn't get you out of my system
Mad at the situation
Couldn't convince myself that you
Were not lying to me
Mad that I couldn't tell you all my secrets
Couldn't see my new piercings or
Come to church with me one Sunday
Or relax in the park
Angry at all the days missed
About everything
Enough was enough
Invited one of the guys over to my place
Made him dinner
Watched a movie
It was late
He was sleepy, lived at a distance
Asked him to stay the night
Didn't want him to get sleepy at the wheel
He slept on the couch
I slept in my room with the door closed
We never did anything
I couldn't
Hurt you that way
Couldn't disrespect us that way
Wouldn't reject myself that way
Couldn't think of giving my body to anyone else
I couldn't let it happen
So my confession is...
I wanted to let this go
So badly
Because I couldn't handle being
So emotionally tied to a person
It is too hard.
I didn't want the burden
So I tried to remove myself from it
And failed
When he left the next day, I just felt lonelier
Because no seemed to fill the void you left
Had to deal with that void until you came back
When you came back I still didn't have you
No calls
Not the same.
Been hurt
Still hurting
Thought I was abandoned.
Abandoned by you....
And by love
I couldn’t

Male VO
It was hard to hear, no question. Yet he heard it and he understood and felt, if possible, worse. There is was, raw, open, and vulnerable. In her transparency he felt the same way. What they had died but from what she said and what he felt there may be a chance to be Lazarus, to come forth and live again. Surely everyone who cared about her would hate him as they hated the more terrible things. But even though it would cut into him like whips and tortures, he felt that if there was even a fraction of a chance to rebuild he’d be able to take whatever was thrown his way. So he took her soulful laments to heart and vowed to himself that, if she’d allow him, he’d try to spend the days, weeks, and months trying to prove himself as the same person she had fallen for.

Black, White, indifferent

In our lives at one time or another we all wear two mantles, one being good and the other evil. So in essence we are both kindness and cruelty. Often times we try to discard one when it gets too overwhelming not truly realizing a balance of the two is what defines us. -Lucius Black

And I figure it's true because even the nicest folks have moments of less than stellar moments. Conversely even the cruelest of us has a heart and a conscience. The balance here is important. Without it, you are in an internal struggle to find it.


Verse One
By the rules of a thumb I don’t often wear white
And it might be simply because it dirties up too easily
A quiet reason however measly
Past Labor Day isn’t the matter of real discussion
So it’s no fussing, no cussing
Then again it could be that connotation
Of things I paint
Colored a little eggshell off
Since I ain’t a grand saint
There’s always an attempt to do right by everyone
Try as the big heart might to accommodate
Facilitate every direction pulled, every expectation
It tends to end, bend into devastation
Cracked hearts and broken perceptions
Fucked up without an ounce of protection
In recollection intent was questioned, confused a few
The things I do, maybe odd
God, I try to make it right for those who
For lovers, brothers, and sisters
And sometimes I resent her
For questioning mother of pearl colors here
When at night I always lent the ear
In the face of the flaws
Disregarded laws I pause
Thinking that the tint of Jesus robes don’t fit
Then I quit believing that goodness is in me
Even if it was put on repeat and repeat
More deceit bonded to my fleet feats
Mere feet from a pure T-shirt, looks nice and right
But I remember why I don’t wear white

Neither black nor white
I’m the graymalkin, killer
The balances to the checks
A calm in the thriller
Neither white nor black
Just a graymalkin, brother
The good, the bad
Tend to offset one another

Verse Two
It was a surname that was acquired and draped
No real escape from its warmth and its cold
For a number of years it counted me in the hold
It was clutching so unyielding
Stealing every feeling
And the stigma made me wonder over
A type of decision
In the ebony remains of the day
Then too willing to be just another villain
It felt right there at the heights of wrongdoing
No one to worry about but solo son
Undone was all the belief, all the hype
Broken into shatters of no matters with one swipe
But then the kindness kills, the heart breathes
From the place it was threaded upon my sleeve
Just in a second I reconsider being a bastard
Even if mastered, struck a chord
Dear Lord, black wallpaper’s been plastered
Over friend and foe alike
It was disgusting for the conscience to strike
Or to even feel reticent enough over the night
When it had that much easier to curse the light
Other shoes drop
Than I stop at the top
To really examine the shroud of eternal nightfall
Then I stall to reinvent the evil in me
Second coming as it appears and appears
And I fear what I came to hear here
Many tears stain the mantle covering the frame
As I transcend the bad guy and the surname


Verse Three
Then there was grayscale attire there in the middle
It was a third fiddle that was never considered notice
Drawn dead magnetic to this
The attraction was something so absolute
Couldn’t dilute, couldn’t refute
It exudes a little scent of both former lovers
This is what body trusts
The mundane midway still
Had enough of the evil to excite lusts
Still there was that goodness that bound me
The same from the first verse and second mentions
Intentions mingled to maybe build, imperfectly create
Pygmalion chisels art, a start towards level plates
Taking on the both easier than being just one single
Allowing the goods and the evils to mingle
There’s a tingle of honesty, lies too as well
Heavens and hells, finally at peace
For them, they, and us
Safety and the same so dangerous
In complete color of unassuming sort
A peaceful word, a retort
Flaws and the perfect flex
No pretext, merely context
Content that the collaborations is just right
The day is night with both aspects alive
So finally after over and over
I wear grays after the genes of Jean
I mean Phoenix and Marvel Girl again
Grayscale attire on a lane of Graymalkin


Attack of the Plastics
Lucius Black
L. Powell

The Death Of Ken

All you really hear about nowadays is dudes, especially African-American males, worried about their manhood being questioned. Too afraid to cry because of the childhood programming that a man isn't supposed to cry because that makes you a punk. Don't even get me started on that 'no homo' and 'pause' garbage. If you're not of the homosexual persuasion, there's no need to really clarify. But I digress...

I have ALWAYS believed that a man's experiences and the lessons he learns define his manhood as opposed to the facade of being a tough guy and not saying things that can be construed or flipped in something less than heterosexual. As far as men go, one man (although inanimate) is the true measure of a man-Ken.

I've always found a measure of strength in the way Ken is quietly contented in being little more than a set piece to the woman in his life. Granted, this isn't me bashing those go getters amongst the female constituency. Nope. This is just me in my overactive imagination just imagining that Ken grows tired of being brow beaten by all of Barbie's accomplishments with nothing to show for it but a gay ass cowboy outfit and a pink sweater. This is an extended metaphor for dudes who are like this. Hopefully I pulled it off well. Enjoy.

The Ken Dreads

Verse One
Coolest Kenny
I bet it’s torture
The anatomical lacking
When rather piranhas are snacking
On shafts to tops of the elevator
But no, it was a ruthless
Chop shop diva made the man a eunuch
Emasculated by the picture perfect dollhouse
And some pink Corvette waiting restlessly
But wait…that’s sold separately
No glory, no nuts
No Skipper, no sluts
Took the consonant at the end
Makes you woman dearest mommy, friend
Less of a total, constantly what friends said
More than anything, the thing that Ken dreads

Broke dick dolls and dogs
In for a slow slog
The loss of manhood makes kindred
And what Ken dreads

Repeat once

Verse Two
The killer K
Tantamount to doom down
Missing the members
Three minus leaving cold Decembers
To the skin grafts where towers rested
Cut off Samson after Delilah
No remaining power is survivor
That beach house bullshit was taxing
Hoping to escape thumbs of the girl
So sick until upchuck of a Barbie world
Without teeth, without balls
A prisoner, trapped in walls
Silent because of what the other side shows
Opinions and will held back by brothers, GI Joes
Going after phallus, a fallacy many said
More than everything, the thing that Ken dreads

Chorus 2xs

Verse Three
It was Ken
Alone within the hurt
Of being raped, robbed of the wood
Yelled for the return, as if it could
A trophy taken from the nagging wars
And those danger brothers contribute guard
Leaving the plastered smiles scarred
Tennis sweaters and khaki short uniformed disgust
So when Barbie came home it was to a different tone
As broken Ken picked one last bone
Take care, take stones
Perfect dolly, left alone
Three GI Joes stand at attention, wordlessly
As the blonde haired icon stares helplessly
Seems balls and words resurrect, base to head
Now there is nothing that Ken really dreads

Chorus 2xs

The Ken Dreads
Attack of the Plastics
Lucius Black
L. Powell