Passing By (8) These days we pass by eyes that look to pass inside of us passively, I want you to remember 8 things about passing by, One…science tells us we don’t lose but material shifts, Green shifts hands magnificently, were so afraid of friction, Would rather be cold below freezing, wishing winter upon our freezers, Our heart suffers from seizures, Watching temper tantrums jump over the moon, Media lays the Yellow Brick Road across our palms, Hands holding the Psalms privy to the idea of one’s eyes, We don’t need to be crying to have the heart not singing songs to the beat of a young child’s heart rate, We can search for the pulse, searching high and low for the perfect fixture, The perfect picture, the perfect scripture, The perfect rapture dances around our belly buttons circulating poetry as prey, Two…it would arrive at standstill, Eyes meeting travesty running faster than the speed of light, Treadmills create post sonic booms traveling through nerves, Leaving us catatonic to the cries of freedom ringing in ears, I had taken the hand of Trevor, not Hoffman yet this brother I remember from separation, His IQ separated from the rest, it reminded me of the distance between the heavens and this earth, Death knowing lives have to be taken for brilliance can only be held in for so long, Pulses race in our hands, Usain Bolt finishes in first, Trevor wasn’t a flirt but he knew a woman’s body as if he created, Meeting in this place, it had been similar to murder, I remember sitting in the auditorium, his laughter rose from the center of roses, Idealistic beauty poets can’t spell out beauty without this memory, Trevor had listened to the heartbeat of honey bee’s, The connection of antenna to the stem of organic chemistry, He took the dance of ballerina’s, commanded excellence based on your integrity, Three…were told energy is neither created nor destroyed, In South Side Chicago we ring bullets not door bells, Halfway around the globe a 12 year Syrian child feels the Chicago’ child’s fear, Passing by encompasses neglect, treachery spills from your heels through your shoes, Your wallet doesn’t contain wealth, Your car doesn’t contain Women who understand the meaning of life, If we are going to search for the lost, understanding passing by is not simple, Complex circuit boards rush post trauma pills down our throats, I had watched the news reels of death by society, Watching the strongest breeze pass the tree’s, No matter how hard braids or turn table’s turn, rivers will always run up-stream, Were not circulating money or the exchange of idea’s, nor purifying water, We watched as Malcolm stood upfront, wishing peace upon a stranger, His oxygen weathered storms masterfully, Not enough of a master to stop 35 bullets from penetrating his body, Were given master keys following master orders, Master Chief were not playing Halo, Relaying 100 point games while the street lays waste to individuals with zero reasons to live, Four…when searching for the lost, Explain techno colored dream coats more use than your bible, Explain critical thinking isn’t critical reasoning, We need your vision more than your speaking, Treasuring basketball courts the same way the youth treasure baskets, I watch as your skin transference of hoping sneak in late, Your golden complexion hides your insecure addiction to attention, Speaking of incriminating defense, we watch as our fences rise higher, Your morals sink lower, Your heels attain inches, Your stuffed pockets look bigger, Watch as reversal of labor, love rushes from our chest, We will listen to the carbon copies of brilliant minds float gently upon separated sea’s, I walk transparency on a leash, days of murder rush to hands as knife wounds, Each ounce of sorrow digs deeper than a Freshman’s question to a girl and being denied, Five…we pass by asking questions yet not luminous to our own thoughts, Sparks exchange Trevor’s voice when he sang his favorite song, I remembered when his high notes would plaster cement blocks with his eyes of virtuous soldiers, His smile radiated the search for the loss almost over, Almost closer than not trying, your idea of trying not the same, When you hide secrets wishing he will notice you in Victoria, Size doesn’t matter, guys will do Push-ups as girls deceive in Push-ups, I wonder what happened to Trevor as his mind enters a windy storm on a lonely day, Call it a bad day, or measure it up to bad luck and societies upside down turn table, The newspaper said it was an accident, the courts said the officers had evidence, I wished the blocks could talk, the sun could measure up to its potential, Passing by does not answer my prayers, as I watch young black boys praying nightly, Ending up in the same position they started but not lively, Six..If we took the angles and opened up wings listening and glistening for God, We would notice passing by has significant prayers attached as the base, Prefixes the way you fix your hair before leaving the house, The way wearing less signified the sun doesn’t hide behind clouds, Your legs blend in fields of dreams, As tree’s pass benches with a young woman with nowhere to go, Your answer to questions measure how sweet one can be with the professor, I remember when I was given hand gestures by a young woman, Similarly next to me sat a blue-eyed blond hair sorority, Hand gestures motioned for me to circulate, I watched my body perform miraculous odyssey, All she needed was my name, she was used to men asking for her number, I gave her what she wanted, nothing close to what others perform, I attained my maturity with target practice, asked for assistance hoping for David, My own Goliath wished bending rules for the naked yet passing by became easier, Seven…at the end of the day we are vessels wishing life from birth, Watching as passing by is not a possessive or a trick question, When I wished sacrifice for the death of Trevor, I was told meadows destroyed my mind, I couldn’t sway swag wishing for greatness, I had been standing walking along the fence a game of 21, My hand swiped the fence feeling numbness and coldness, I was numb from the opera house that positioned itself on each church block, The coldness swept my feet trying to hide the warmth, Eight…if you didn’t get anything, If you couldn’t take one thing from our walk along passing by, I wish for you to examine the chests of those who perpetuate truth from acting, Wearing gold doesn’t make you a player, Just as wearing booty shorts and waxing curves in daylight don’t mean your beautiful, It strays far from the truth as I found passing by, A young woman barely 15, her eyes spoke of dark nights, The color of her past as dark as red wine spilled on a white canvas, This 15-year-old tied her hair back with string found from recycled yarn, Often I wondered if women wore beauty as nature accounted for, This 15 year didn’t pretend, her lips the same color as the blood spilled on lands, Her hands rough having to walk patiently, bare-feet stepped daily on the grind, Her back ached having to hold more weight than your man wished for you to have where it matters, I had been looking when passing by seemed not to exist, I watched as I was lifted from the strongest breeze, The air pushed through my chest, penetrating my rib-cage with a 15 year old’s pain, Her roots gave me passing by, death does not come when we are ready, Death passes us by when our brilliance cannot be contained any longer.
Posted on: Mon, 02 Sep 2013 01:56:11 +0000
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