81 Revolutions

 81 Octobers,

each one a chapter,

written in the quiet rhythm

of time you filled with love,

even when words were few.

A life woven through soft mornings

and the steady hum of days,

you taught me how to walk,

even as you were slowly leaving.

Your hands once held so much—

now they rest, forever,

still warm in the memory of care.

I wanted you to see another birthday,

just one more to cradle in your heart.

But the seasons slipped away too fast,

I saw it in the way you moved,

the way your eyes searched for peace.

for relief.

Still, I hoped—

even when the leaves were telling me

you wouldn't see them fall.

81 Octobers.

81 Revolutions.

each one more precious than the last,

yet none as precious

as those fragile moments,

where time bent,

and I sat beside you,

even as you slipped through the spaces

we could not mend.

You didn't make it to the next dawn,

but you are already eternal,

in every smile I carry,

in every part of me that loves

because of you.

81 Octobers

 81 Octobers,

each one a chapter,

written in the quiet rhythm

of time you filled with love,

even when words were few.

A life woven through soft mornings

and the steady hum of days,

you taught me how to walk,

even now, as you are slowly leaving.

Your hands once held so much—

now they rest, tired,

but still warm with the memory of care.

I wanted you to see another birthday,

just one more to cradle in your heart.

But the seasons are slipping away too fast,

and I see it in the way you move,

the way your eyes search for peace.

Still, I hope—

even when the leaves are telling me

you may not see them fall.

81 Octobers—

each one more precious than the last,

yet none as precious

as this fragile moment,

where time bends,

and I hold onto you,

even as you slip through the spaces

we cannot mend.

You may not make it to the next dawn,

but you are already eternal,

in every smile I carry,

in every part of me that loves

because of you.

The Weight of Yesterday

 Shadows stretch long from history's towers,

Their foundations sunk deep in blood and bone.

Yet we walk blithely through concrete hours,

Pretending the ground beneath is our own.

How swiftly mankind forgets its scars,

The chains that shaped our very DNA.

We gaze at screens instead of at stars,

Blind to the ghosts that haunt every day.

But listen close—the wind carries cries

Of those whose suffering birthed our world.

In every institution's lies,

The flags of conquest remain unfurled.

To move forward while honoring the dead,

We must feel the weight upon our head.

-me

My Aspiration

 I dream of a love

where I am both fortress and sanctuary,

where my strength doesn't overshadow my tenderness,

and my softness doesn't diminish my resolve.

I want to be the oak that stands firm,

roots deep, branches reaching,

and also the river that bends and flows,

adapting, nurturing, ever-moving.

In my ideal love,

I listen with the patience of mountains,

speak with the gentleness of a breeze,

touch with hands that know both labor and caress.

And my partner—

a mirror of this fluidity,

soft as morning mist when I need comfort,

unyielding as bedrock when I falter.

Together, we'll dance this delicate balance,

taking turns to lead and follow,

to protect and be protected,

to challenge and support.

I aspire to a love where

vulnerability is strength,

where tears and laughter hold equal value,

where we are both sword and shield for each other.

In this love I seek,

we'll be free to be all parts of ourselves—

the hard, the soft, the in-between,

knowing we're accepted, cherished, whole.

This is my goal:

a partnership of equals,

fluid in our roles,

steady in our commitment,

where love is both our softest touch

and our strongest foundation.

 -me

Beyond the Ticking Clock

 we

are echoes in the wind,

faint and fleeting,

tracing lines in the sand

that the tide will wash away.

we speak in whispers,

trying to capture the infinite

with words that crumble

before they leave our lips.

time pulls us forward,

a relentless current

we cannot fight,

and yet we grasp at moments,

hoping to hold them still,

to make them last

just a little longer.

we are shadows,

caught between the sun and the earth,

dancing in the light

only to fade as night falls.

and in our hearts,

we carry the weight of stars,

the deep, unspoken knowing

that we are more

than this fleeting breath,

more than the ticking of clocks.

but how to say it?

how to find the language

that does not break

under the weight of what we feel?

so we live,

and we dream,

and we try to remember

that though we may pass,

there is something within us

that does not fade,

that does not bow

to time or space.

-me

 'Shadows stretch long from history's towers,

Their foundations sunk deep in blood and bone.

Yet we walk blithely through concrete hours,

Pretending the ground beneath is our own.

How swiftly mankind forgets its scars,

The chains that shaped our very DNA.

We gaze at screens instead of at stars,

Blind to the ghosts that haunt every day.

But listen close—the wind carries cries

Of those whose suffering birthed our world.

In every institution's lies,

The flags of conquest remain unfurled.

To move forward while honoring the dead,

We must feel the weight upon our head.

Echoes In the Bedrock

 Beneath our feet, a whisper grows,

Of lives compressed to sediment.

Their triumphs, fears, and overthrows

Form the ground on which we're resident.

We build our towers, sleek and tall,

Atop the ruins of yesterday.

Pretending that we've heard the call

To break free from history's sway.

But in our veins runs ancient blood,

Our thoughts shaped by forgotten hands.

Try as we might to stem the flood,

The past seeps through in grains of sand.

To move ahead with open eyes,

We must first face old lullabies.

Confront the myths that comfort brings,

And listen as the bedrock sings.

-me 

Uncharted Waters

 I stand at the edge of myself,

A map unfolding in my hands,

Creased and worn, yet unexplored territories remain.

Years etched like contour lines,

Peaks of triumph, valleys of doubt,

Each step forward a conquest and surrender.

In her eyes, I see uncharted waters,

Depths I long to fathom,

Yet fear the drowning.

Love, that siren song,

Beckons me to shed my armor,

To be naked in my imperfections.

I am more than the sum of expectations,

Son, brother, friend, potential lover,

Roles that both define and shape my path.

In quiet moments of reflection,

I wonder - am I becoming

The man destined for that soulmate's heart?

Dreams of fatherhood linger on the horizon,

A future role I long to embrace,

When love and timing align.

-me

you don't know (a rough draft)

…that you’re gone.
from my life-
You’re gone,
and you don’t even know it.
you’ve spent so much time avoiding contact with me
coinciding with my needing you,
since you didn’t and don’t need anything

as they say
out of sight out of mind,
like a slowly-moving train
without even trying,
you’ve moved inch by inch
 out
of my  heart
and out of my mind.
i don't remember you.
correction
I do remember you
but I hope to forget you
the way you've forgotten about me.
You don’t know
because you’ve not been around
to check in on me
or
to ask me about me.
I’ve experienced a really really really low point.
You see,
I needed you,
And you knew that I needed you,
But you turned your back on me.
If was as if you thought my phone didn’t accept inbound calls or texts.
You don’t know that you’re gone,
But you’ll discover;
When you need something,
And you call me for another reference.

And I reciprocate your actions by saying 'sure no problem,'

and then ending the call.
and deleting your contact information.
and blocking your number.

(Love) hate (or the assimilation thereof)

I’m
gonna have a house party.
gonna invite everyone I know
(might like to come)
everyone,
every one, even those not black.
I like them.
they’s got to like me, right?
‘cause how can you be mean to someone
who  treats you nice? 
said I like them.
( i  insist)
they’s human /like  i.
got feelings/like i.
want to loved & respected/like i.
i got feelings.     If need be
need be the same.
will reach down
below
will reach down inside myself
to see them in a different light.
i hope i am not alone in this.

User Friendly

Hey,
you-
brother!
Can you play basketball for our team?
Can you play football?
Can you run fast?
               -I know you can you dance.
                 show us your moves. 
Can you fight?
Can you lift heavy things?
         Can you stand guard, and just look intimidating,
          --like normal?
Otherwise,

not needed

Ready For Battle

                        by Alieux Casey-George

u

occur but once

and having occurred

fall into dust

and occur not again

we

exist in soul

but speak only

of time and space

and the words fly off

to nowhere

look

at us now

the clock races on

time prepares itself for battle

pages turn

heads are bowed.

Watch Sonia's Lips move

Day ONE: 10/1/00

enters Sonia,

shutting the door behind her.

She removes her full red lips

To tell me in confidence:

“I’m so glad they finally hired a

brutha here! You the only nigga that’s been in this building besides the UPS guy!

We gotta have each other’s back.

 If there is anything that you need,

nigga,

please don’t hesitate to let a sista know!”

then she quickly leaves my office

after putting her lips back

where they  remained

from my first day

through to my last;

attached

to

every

white

male

ass

in

the

company.

--alexgeorge

I will remember

When things get better, 

when my money gets right

 &

 I can exhale again, 

I will remember those who cared enough

 2 

check in on me

 when I felt like

 I 

couldn’t 

afford

 2 breathe--

alieuxcgeorge

On love being a verb

--ok, 
but- they know you went through a rough time...
               have they checked in on you at least once to ask how you're doing?

Otherwise, 

#youalreadyknow

                                         (I have to call or text first. Otherwise I will never hear from them. EVER)



In philosophy, an action is that which is done by an agent. In common speech, the term is often used interchangeably with the term "behaviour". However, in the philosophy of action, behavioural sciences, and the social sciences, a distinction is made: behavior is automatic and reflexive activity, while action is an intentional, purposive, conscious and subjectively meaningful activity[citation needed]. Thus, things like running or throwing a ball is an instance of action; it involves intention, a goal, and a bodily movement guided by the agent. On the other hand, catching a cold is not considered an action because it is something which happens to a person, not something done by one.

Control

God, take control of my steering wheel;

I’ll get out the driver’s seat.

I haven’t been driving well on my own;

Going up and down the wrong street.

And though I have a road map,

I still can’t find my way.

God, take control of my steering wheel,

I surrender to you today.

--God, Take Control of my Steering Wheel,  from the poetry collection Soultight,   

         Alieux Casey-George

Dayum

Cccan you hhhear mmme?

Can u hear me

Cccommunnicate in evvvery way pppossssible

Via phonetextemail and phonetextemail and phonetextemail and phone

Text

Email wwwearrrring mmmy heart ooon mm ssleeve

Can you ssssee me waiving mmmmy hands?

I’m looking for you

I’ve called you.

I’ve texted you.

I’ve written you.

Love,

Wwhere the hhell are you?

Damnit

Substitute for gods, Part 1

You aint no

god!

So stop acting like you’re the  judge the jury and everything in between.

You’re on the outside trying to look in to things that are none of your damn business  because you feel you need to know everything about everybody and anything you don't know  you make up  and get worked up  about it and you get pissed off for nothing?
 

God doesn't need your assistance.

You can’t cherry pick things in the bible you've misinterpreted to be a sin while committing all the others that are clear sins

and then you get mad when people point the sins out to you while you scream to them about their "sins"? 

You can’t die on the inside and scream because you  think everyone else is dying.

Judge your self

And do better for you.

why do you think you have no friends?

Spend time digging the trash out the closet that you have locked away from everyone while you insist on getting  the keys to everyone else’s closets.for exposure.

get the fuck outta here with that hypocritical bullshit.

You aint a god.

the streets  (the churches) are watching you,
and there's a consensus: 

You're a liar with an undiagnozed  neurotic psychotic bipolar disorder.

everyone has walked away from you.

get some help.

You aint a god.  

Shitty People

 

 

when 'friends' begin to smell/look/

turn

real shitty,

realize that they were never your friends.

 

 

don't even ask from where the shitty-ness came:

it was always there.

it was concealed under the blanket of friendliness.

you just chose to ignore the faintness of it.

 

just walk away.

 

Georgia Anne Muldrow - Great Blacks

This.