First Poem

This is the first poem
This is the first poem written
From the hand of a servant
Writing for divine intervention
Only to find out he himself
Was such

This is the first poem written
On a cold day
A warm day
A hot day on the porch
Of a Bronx residence
With a bottle of Ting resting on the ground
And his lover nestled between his legs
Reading the latest Essence
Just to find how many references
To spirituality she can find

This is the first poem written
While listening to
An unreleased album
Placed on the Internet
By the record company
As they go on a tirade
About losing money knowing
They were the culprits

This is the first poem written
A week after two associates
Sat in a darken room
Deciding that maybe God
Was too slow to welcome them back home
So they blew out their life candles
Merging with the dancing smoke trails
Sending their souls upwards

This is the first poem written
With not a care about who reads, listen, or recite
These words

This poem is about just being
About happiness and sadness
About redemption and forgiveness

This poem will not change how you feel
Or
If this was from a place of truth

This poem was not written to be
Recognized or reverend

This poem will have only one
Reference to 9-11
And that was it

This poem is the vanguard for
All of the poems coming after this

Yes I placed pressure on this poem
To achieve but I have faith in it

This poem is long and short at the same time
Hence it is confused
But once again
I have faith it will work itself out

This poem was endorsed by the Most High
And those who are mostly high

This poem is an oxymoron
This poem is definitive
This poem is hurtful yet comforting
Once the pain fade

For those who stumble along their path
Let this poem be your pillar of strength
To those who couldn't bear the light of this world
Let these words be your vessel so
No one forgets you

For those who gave all they could yet felt
They came up short in their goals
Let this tome be your magnificent reward

This is the first poem written
Out of desperation and remorse
For this will become my saving grace
My prayer, autobiography, love letter
My hate mail
My downfall and ruin
My great achievement
My first born and last child
My legacy

This poem came from a place of
Sincerity with a hint of ego

This poem is a reflection of the author and reader
Whatever you get out of it
Is what this poem is

This is the first poem
And these are the last words
This poem will ever manifest…


We are all dreamers...

"You know we're back, right?"