Seafoam Black

New York makes me feel so seafoam black in the wintertime.

In this climate no matter what you choose you lose.

So I wander the world seeking various forms of warmth and empty spaces.

Here I am.

Who wouldn’t want to escape? Oh the prices one pays to follow a dream.

What would it cost to skip a step, or two?

Leaving memories right where they are when they hurt.

Learning by backtracking like The Almanac.

Now, I’m looking back on moments I couldn’t wait to complete with nostalgia and mental screenshots of how you looked at me. ‘Faded pictures in a broken glass’ or something like it.

Here we are. 

Next to you I sit, breathing in harsh realities exhaling my own interpretations of the truth with glitter sprinkled on top like greatness.

What a rush when you win.

What a rush when you have the opportunity to begin again.

What’s the rush?

Next To Me
Jheri Hardaway, Next To Me

Insight

Insight

Aware

Beautiful

Conscious

Different

Emerging as the new me

Focused

Go mode

Hearing more than I speak

Intention minded

Jheri

Knowledge over being noticed

Love

Moving towards peace

Never forgetting who I use to be

Optimistic

Perspective

Quality over quantity

Responsible

Sleeping

Thinking and paying attention to my thoughts

Using the past to move forward

Variety

With the willingness to try

XoxoxoxoX

You learn more+You earn more

Zeroing in on what is real.

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Figuring it all out. Watching closely the ones I respect.

One day at a time.

Got the Green Light

 

Green
Green

I feel like a green light. Nothing can impede my progress.Not traffic, not accidents, not even running out of gas.

There is no stopping a green light. Go means go, and I go hard. Harder than the car in the next lane. Faster than the fastest cars and the bigger cars hogging up multiple lanes.

I keep my oil changed, I rotate my tires, and maintain a clean interior so I can run efficiently and productively. I am the green light, controlling the traffic around me.

Even when the power is out my light still shines. I don’t see stop signs. I turn on and I’m out.

Some want to ride when they see my gleaming green light, but this is a coupe and no one rides for free.

So if you see me rolling around with the windows down in your town stay out of my lane.

Honk, honking shining in green on skinny tires, that’s me.

Vroom, vrooming past the Sunday drivers. Watch what you say and see, all the lights turn green for me!

Into the Light

Into the Light

Inside my tomorrows that run rampant in my dreams,
between my awakening and my destiny.
I rest thankfully inspired by my favorite word ‘go’
and for the knowledge and courage that help me grow.
When the fog grew thick, and I wanted to quit
I am eternally grateful for that voice in me hollering ‘NO!’
When it grew cold, and there was no place to go,
I sat still ignoring the slanderous cries of the crowd.
I knew past that place of love drowned in hate
waited the dream we all anticipate.
And until that date,
one request – let me be great.
And I promise every struggle I will appreciate.
The journey is the experience.
The destination the goal.
I am the conspirator, the engineer, the captain, the boss,
the gold miner chipping away at these boulders and rocks.

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Dreams #11

There was only one window. The darkness of the night left the room dreary and lonely. The entire space was cold because of the nights eerie sentiment. Closing her eyes she remembered a brighter time. It was just a week ago. She was free to roam. Free to live. Outside of all walls without guidance or instruction she wandered. She stopped only when she was exhausted and that moment had arrived. Resting outside of a small hut she sat next to a bush of green roses. She had never seen such a flower and was enamored by the vibrance. Pricked by a thorn upon attempting to touch she sat patiently looking onto the flowers. In that moment one began to bloom. She watched as the bud unfolded in front of her petal after petal after petal. She couldn’t help but wonder when she would bloom. Opening her eyes the darkness returned and the warmth of the roses became a distant memory. She knew pretending wouldn’t protect her and chill would never keep her mind still. So she sat alone in the dark without a hint or a clue.

6pm

I sat resting uneasy on that of which we exist, where the clocks are all wrong because time never mattered. I continuously wonder why we are all so bad at being good and when we became comfortable with being wrong.
With my soul as my witness I wonder what it’s all for? 
After years and years of toil in my mind I exhaled and accepted the facts. I shut down the angel and the devil on my shoulders; they became one in the same like the flightless bird and green fruit that share a name. 
Straight up like six o’clock. 

Moving On

The older I get the easier it becomes to move on.

The more mature I grow the simpler it is to say no.

With the years I’ve noticed a decrease in fears.

And the louder my headphones the less drama I hear.

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Dream #10

Trippin off the true lies I’m always running from I slid as slow as sizrup until I stopped in front of the canal.

I was trapped by the very things created to set me free. Hating the headaches. Rationing out the regrets.

Water slapped the sides of the brick bridge, where green moss floated patiently awaiting an opportunity to drift down stream.

I stuck my toe inside catching a chill from the cool calm water. The chill seized my body and everything was alright in the world.

Laying back on the grass with my hands clasped around the nape of my neck I was able to let go of the intangible.

Wind whirled around me stirring up the grass and memories in my mind. I could smell the approaching rain and prepared myself for the mental cleansing showers seem to provide.

I laughed at Mother Nature and her strange acknowledgments of my sentiments and yelled at the clouds, “don’t stop get it, get it.”

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Too Worn Out

Too Worn Out

 

Incessantly insisting ‘keep the peace’

and dry my useless tears,

forgetting that I bear

a pain beyond my years.

 

‘Wake up and smell the weeds’

tomorrow isn’t promised

nor is later,

to be honest.

 

Holding hope in my hand

until it escapes through these fingers

like sand.

Simply a shell lingers.

 

Cardinals chirp atop trees.

Brown twigs,

without leaves sway

in a dry rainforest.

 

I’d rather be blind

than watch a leman break,

coming away a lifeless

grey soul to take.

 

Regardless of the glory,

despite the sweet taste of the sun,

Another victim of the system.

Simply a lesson learned.

 

For Paul Lawrence Dunbar

Dream #10

I could feel myself melting all over the ground like a chocolate kiss in the palm of a hot hand. He would talk and talk and talk. He would rhyme from time to time. Not like a poet or rapper. Just random rhymes. I had to pay attention to speak his language it was expensive. First I had to establish the currency pounds, euros, francs sometimes dirhams.

His tirades were unending, “People like us are bright. Like all the little lights flickering over that hill at night. Like glitter they shine when the light hits them just right. You should shine more. Don’t let life dim your life. You seem so sad and beautiful. This combination won’t allow me to ever love you. Hello? How long will you act like you can’t hear me? We’re gonna be here for a while. No one will save you. Don’t believe the hype.”

“I hear you.”

We sat side by side on the screened in porch. Blackened by the moonlight his face was cut into a million spiteful shadows. I was left trying to put all the pieces together in the dark.

Living the life a gentlewomen forced me to act out my role. However, playing my part often left me upstaged.

I inquired, “Where’s the point in pretending?”

He replied, “Right next to the fun in forever.”

I couldn’t fault him for capitalizing on this young castaway. I know when I’m wanted and when I am not. I was forced to stay and everyday it grew harder to pretend. Marked with scarlet letters birds of similar feathers sat together high on the hill in the silence reminiscing on their respective past lives separately. Hope once again was gone with the wind.