Outsider’s thoughts

So sometimes I write things that were not meant to see the light of day for whatever reason. There may be a time or two where they will reach some eyes & go no further. Regardless, whenever I stumble back upon them, I consider posting or throwing them away. The latter is less likely to happen nowadays because I believe there is always a use for something in them. I don’t think a writer should throw anything away, anyway. No matter how bad you think it is, there is something in it that could be used at some point. The following is not exactly that. I never felt it was meant to be seen by anyone, but at the same time, if posted maybe it would be seen by eyes who understood the feeling that was attempted to be expressed in it.

Not sure what has compelled me to post this because I didn’t think it was very good when I wrote it months ago. Haven’t gone far from that thought, either. Anyway, take this as a small step to me baring a little more of myself to you all.

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And here I sit. In a booth far into the corner. I am checking out the scene as only I can. As only I am allowing myself. Invisible. I can see the whole room from here. People laughing, dancing to band that is playing, various stages of undress to be viewed & admired, tables of couples talking to each other and their acquaintances about the pending night’s debauchery or some time of naughty chat. I wish to be in their world. To take it all in as a participant and not just a fly on the wall. But here I sit, and not out there. An outsider to the people living in themselves deep within the atmosphere of this club. One who desperately wishes he could join them.

One who wishes he could shed his inhibitions like a snake does it’s skin. One who wishes to flung amongst the bodies to be chatted or touched or used in some pleasurable fashion. To be wanted instead of just wanting to be in that world. But this is not so easy a task as it seems. As any outsider knows, even the most accepting of groups have their boundaries mined for reasons of their own. And let us not forget the boundaries placed in front of our own selves. Land mines within themselves full of pity & hurdles high. One day, they will be defused. One day, the hurdles will be scaled. One day, I will be stripped bare of all of the baggage weighing me down. One day, I will cross the moat into this castle fully and take my place between it’s walls and not sitting on them like some gargoyle standing watch. One day, I will be accepted by these people enjoying their freedom from the confines of the outside world. And in turn, accepting of myself. One day….

But until that time, here I sit, wishing for the nerve to move closer.

The lake symphonic imagery

One day I was out for a walk in some very unfamiliar woods when I stumbled upon a gorgeous, yet seemingly familiar lake. As I got closer & closer, the sounds of water resonated through me as if the melody of song was playing. It was near dusk and the setting sun lowered itself on the horizon. From where I was standing, it appeared as if the sun was melting into the lake as it sank. Not even in sorrow, but with joy as it felt to me in the merger of the two bodies.

There was a giant rock near the edge of the lake not far from where I was. It invited me to sit against it to enjoy the scenery, which I did. It was strange to me that in a territory so foreign to me, I would find a place that felt like I’ve visited many times and was so at home in. Once I took my place sitting against the big rock, a gentle breeze started through the area as if to join in as a welcome to me. The breeze, so sweet, sung so harmoniously along with the sound of the rolling water. Lyrics to a glorious song, it was. I leaned my head back & closed my eyes briefly to take in it all in. A melody of peace, tranquility made itself my friend in that moment.

The sun, now fully set, must have called out in it’s wake as the sky was clear and the moon shone brightly and full. The stars danced in their twinkling signaling their addition to this play I was privy to. The moonlight, as spotlight, seemed to guide my gaze towards the water. In it, shapes seemed to gather in form to make images. Yet not just normal ones, ones seemingly made for me to see. Some were of happy memories gone by, but mostly they were images of loved ones. It was if they were projected from my heart onto the water in some fashion. I smiled in seeing this & my heart grew big in the watching. The images, as vivid as they were, almost made themselves for me to join with them. I went to reach out to do just that, but stopped short of actually touching the water. Everything and everyone in the images were full of joy and happiness and very tempting. And yet, as tempting as it was, I could not join them. Disturbing the flow felt wrong to do & I wanted to continue to indulge in proceedings as it was. I leaned back and watched the lake as if it were a television reveling in the faces of my loved ones on the water. I wished for continued peace & happiness to all of the faces showing up though I could not join them.

As a cloud came and covered the moon and the breeze started to dwindle, I knew it was time for me to depart this place. As I got up from the rock, I wondered if I was ever going to find this place in the future since I wasn’t sure how I got here. Thinking about it for a moment, I came to the conclusion that I as long as I carried memory of this place with me, I would not need to know how to back to it. Were it meant for me to, I would find it. Were it not, then it is with me in memory along with other cherished treasures. I took one last look at the lake before turning and walking away. I thanked it, the rock, the wind, sun, moon, & stars for everything it has just given me.

And then I walked away smiling, humming the song I’d learned from the wind. At peace.

What a long, strange ride it’s been so far

So, a year and two weeks ago Monday (11/09/08), Taboo was born. He ultimately came from a need to explore parts of myself that I hadn’t really allowed myself to. This was/is my attempt to explore certain aspects of the me that is and, for the most part, I have. What parts? Well, it’s there if you’ve looked. Granted, not much has been actually written here about said explorations, but it has been done. In the past year, I’ve rediscovered a voice I thought lost(meaning my writing), met some people that I continue to care about (thanks due to Twitter), had been given a lesson or two(that was sometimes learned), took a look inside of myself, had a few dozen bouts with feelings, and found what I think to have been a very special muse.

And what have I come to realize? That I have many miles to go before I sleep.  Clichè aside, the things I’ve been through have had an affect on me one way or another, yet I still have a long way to go before understanding what they were & whether they were good or bad. Plus, as weird as it seems, it kinda feels like I’m in the same place I was this time last year. Deep down, I know that’s not the case. I can recall some moments that have touched me one way or another that still make me feel some kind of way. And now that I about it, some of that has come out here or somewhere. If that whole thing about wearing your heart on you sleeve is true, then I believe mine bled out into some of my writing. That part surprises me not, as that’s how it’s always been for me. That’s a post for another time.

I’ve looked back on the year & what I’ve put on this blog with mixed feelings. Doesn’t feel like I’ve put enough here, but that can always change. I’ve thrown some words together, had a thought or two, and even tried to bring some sexiness to Saturdays (These two are my favorites). There has been a little directly about me here and there, but mostly, things have sometimes come out in my writing, whether posted here or elsewhere. And it is my writing that I definitely want to put some time into going forward. It has become almost as personal to me as music is. Well, it always has been, but I feel more comfortable about sharing that now than I have in the past. Not that I’m any good, mind you, but I have come across many great writers who have shared with me their talents, and I want to thank them any way I can. One or two in particular were responsible for helping me rediscover my voice in the first place. They have a special place in my heart & I really want to make them as proud of me as I’d want to be for myself. Their faith in my ability has been a great inspiration. Hopefully, that could be part of my thanks to them for their kindness & encouragement. I owe them so much & hope to show them what they mean to me.

So, here we are. Taboo, year one. And I don’t even have my own graphic novel. The blank slate that is slowly trying to fill himself in. I thank any & everyone who have stopped by to see my words & images(as sporadic as they come) & hope that you find something here that continues to bring you. *ahem* you could leave a comment since you’re here and all. Just saying. Thank you always to the people that have touched my life in the past year, also. You continue to make me a better person. I do hope to share more of me going forward. *takes bow*

And the journey continues…

Saturday Sexy: Love Jones

Once upon a time, I had visions of being in a scene depicted in the video below. Picture a younger Taboo in a smoky jazz club on spouting poetry to the sounds of some sexy jazz music. Now realize that said younger Taboo was/is actually a very shy person who’s writing is not so much suited to that environment. I could be wrong about the writing, but doubtful. At any case, 1997 brought a movie which encapsulated the scene I’ve just described pretty well. That movie is Love Jones, starring Larenz Tate & Nia Long (mmm, sexy), & I still dig on that movie a whole lot if not the scene it’s set in. The scene below may or may not seem sexy to you, but in it’s own way, it does for me. Regardless, enjoy Larenz’s Darius Lovehall as he recites “A Blues for Nina(Brotha to the night)”.

Saturday Sexy: Cross my mind

Haven’t done one of these in a minute, so I’d figured I’d do one while I thought about. Coincidentally, that kinda fits the ‘theme’ for this one. I present to you two equally sexy songs(in my opinion) that could play like a question and answer. As I’m thinking about it, there’s one or two other songs that could fit into this but I’ll just keep it to these two. I hope you enjoy:

George Howard – Do I Ever Cross Your Mind*

Home

Home is not just four walls you reside between. It’s more than that or not that at all.

Home is a place, this is true. A place of security, warmth and happiness. A place where all of the troubles of the world at large cannot penetrate. A place of wonder & excitement that could be within your mind or no where near your place of residence. It could be within the arms of a loved one or the thoughts of someone you care about.

Home could very well be in the throes of passion. It could be in a voice or a book that takes you somewhere & frees you from constraints.

Home is a place where you belong, where you are loved & sustained.

Home could be a smell that makes you smile & calls you back when it knows you need it.

Home could be a sound that soothes or the music that moves you.

Home is what you make of it or what you make it from. Just make sure you have one to go to.

And now, a belated poetry moment

(This post probably should have been done a few days ago for National Poetry Day)

     When I was a younger Taboo, I kept a journal. I also kept another notebook(both I still have) on the side that had various notes, poems, and whatever my little bit that my sanity (or lack thereof) felt needed to be there. I remember going to the campus library to look for poems. Didn’t happen that often, but when it did, it was cool. Side note: yes, I’ve been a nerdy, shy person for a long time if you hadn’t figured that out by now. Anyway, one particular trip, could have been the first one, I ran across a book with poems from various poets. As I was thumbing through the pages, I came across one that really resonated with me. It still does, actually. You see, back then, I was shy as I’ve already said. I’ve had a few unrequited loves during my young life. During that time, and prior, I wrote poems and stories based on how I was feeling at the moment. Oddly enough, the strongest, most fluid time of writing for me was when I was sad or angry. Apparently, some things don’t change.  When I saw this poem, I immediately felt it and just as quickly copied for posterity as I did with a few poems at the time.

     Flash forward to this past October 8th. When I found out that it was National Poetry day in the UK, I thought to post one of my favorites here in honor of the day. Well, that didn’t happen but I still wanted to post something. The thing is, when I searched for the poem in question, “I loved you…” by Alexander Pushkin, it was different from what I remember. Still beautiful, but different. Reason being, i’m guessing, is because it was translated from Russian. So here for your enjoyment are a couple of versions of said poem.

1. (via absolutelypoetry.com) This is version that first saw

I loved you;
even now I may confess,
Some embers of my love their fire retain;
But do not let it cause you more distress,
I do not want to sadden you again.
Hopeless and tongue-tied, yet I loved you dearly,
With pangs the jealous and the timid know;
So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely,
I pray God grant another love you so.

2) (via poemhunter.com)

I loved you, and I probably still do,
And for a while the feeling may remain…
But let my love no longer trouble you,
I do not wish to cause you any pain.
I loved you; and the hopelessness I knew,
The jealousy, the shyness – though in vain -
Made up a love so tender and so true
As may God grant you to be loved again.

3) (via http://max.mmlc.northwestern.edu/~mdenner/Demo/texts/loved_you_once.htm) As far as I know, this is the closest translation of the original text(according to the site). As much as I love the version I first came across, this one feels like something familiar.

I loved you once: perhaps that love has yet
To die down thoroughly within my soul;
But let it not dismay you any longer;
I have no wish to cause you any sorrow.
I loved you wordlessly, without a hope,
By shyness tortured, or by jealousy.
I loved you with such tenderness and candor
And pray God grants you to be loved that way again.

Ok, so it’s not the happiest of poems, but that’s what appealed to me at the time. And yes, there wasn’t much difference between them. It is something I could hope to say and mean to someone I cared about. I hope you’ve enjoyed it as well.

Lie To Me

Make it good. Make me believe it. Make it true.

This lie belongs to you & no one else because I can’t take it from them.

I won’t have it from them as I want you.

Deeply. To believe this for the truth I wish it to truly be.

Mean it. Stare into my eyes with it. Press your lips to mine

& make me want more of your true lie. Quench my desire. Fuel my pleasure.

Make me wash in it to keep my thoughts pure for it.

I need this from you as I much as I need you.

Maybe even more, though this is no act of desperation.

This is a want that needs to have to have it.

Let me feed from it. Nourish my soul to keep it healthy.
For the actual truth is painful but very much known,
but I need to convince myself otherwise so that I can go on.

The road travelled

And it is this way, because it is written so.

The way, the walk, the path I take is right there winding,

though my vision blurs and the path not completely lit.

I continue on in my belief that end of the road is worth

the bruises & wrong turns I may encounter towards it.

I’ve felt the urge to  stop many a time, though I feel

I cannot quit. I feel that I am needed & wanted at my journey’s end.

All that’s against me fuels my desire to reach it.

Taking with me all I learn & meet along the way, for strength.

I walk alone, it seems, but I know that’s not true.

Little to nothing packed, but somehow loaded with baggage.

The wind offers both deterrent and encouragement,

the sun, a smile and a frown thrown down upon me.

Some rain that touches & cries out,

Forces I cannot fault, only friend.

Forces I can’t fully comprehend, or should even try.

But for guidance, I know they’re there.

My own personal work release

Which basically means I’m working to release some of the thoughts in my mind. Not an easy feat no matter how much you relax and let it flow. Especially when you have stuff that, on the surface, makes no sense….or does it.? Case in point:

You have taken over my senses.
And since it’s this time, I thought I should tell you so.
Because I want you to know, and don’t want to go
away for letting this grow to much for me hold on to.
I live by my feelings, which is bad and it hurts when it hurts
crossing the jagged edged line into territory not mine to cross.
But a far greater loss it would be, if I were to let things be
and not be me. Because what you feel is important, you see,
and paramount to me, so in this I can’t mess around.

Though my heart does resound, dropping and breaking
touched to ground from this very dilemma.
So I don’t ask for what I chose to ask with,
but I ask for audience & plea.
I wish no violence to your thought(s) or static like snow
blinding the way you seek to go. I only want silence to my own
fears by friendly whispers from you of what I’ve rought.