The Holiday season

Its the holiday season. Christmas has come and gone and now we're in the middle of Kwanza. But I couldn't leave Christmas behind along with the rest of this joyus time of the year...for most families. Without having written something to reflecthow I feel about it, as a poet, and believer in faith. I've relished in this heart warming time of year with family and friends. So I wrote this piece back on Christmas day, upon request of my pastor in my church. Enjoy and happy holidays and New year!!

The Christmas 3...

While walking in the winter wonderland of life

9:30 am on a Christmas morning,

My mind scribing poetic scriptures cause 

the mind of a poet never sleeps.

Pen and pad in my back pack

ready to pull out to put down what just came to me;

When I happen to run into a group of 

lyrical black Mages who called themselves 

THREE WISE MEN...

Then they told me how thankful I should be this holiday season.

One said, God blessed you with the gift of spoken word.

I kinda figured that, but decided to continue listening

to his rhyme and reasoning;

The 2nd one said, frosty the sand snow man couldn't keep this spoken soldier

of Jesus from speaking the truth to the people;

because like in the bible, there's nothing more powerful than the word.

But I'm like, if you knew the pain of a prophet's torment, then

you'd know spreading the word ain't always easy;

though I must have been put on this earth for a reason

or I wouldn't have taken on the catholic-Christian name of the angel Anthony

Then it was like the third one read my mind cause 

he told me, there real names weren't important,

all that we ask is that you continue letting the jingle bells ring in your soul.

And bring solace to the minds and hearts  of your brothers & sisters

on a spiritual level;

Let go of the chains of pain of ancestors past, and

obstacles of devil worshipers

The children need the conscious reality launched through lethal loogies,

Hawked with heralds the angels can sing

understand, that you, Honest Abraham was birthed into

a county of kings bred from Christ;

your name wasn't a mistake by your parents

it was given precise

Even John the Baptist was a poet.

Who spoke words making the masses honored to know a product of Bethlehem;

This verbal vernacular hit home in my dome,

from the Sunday my pastor asked me to write this poem.

So here on this stage I can stand before you,

providing a dose of hope damaged souls no longer need

wheelchairs to get around in;

original sin that cursed mankind can will no longer exist.

This is for the teachers & preachers that try to make sense of this.

May the lord continue to let me live to the point

as my guide to end negativity  bliss

bring joy to the world with prose that deserves a "10"

whether this piece is performed in a slam competition or church congregation!!

In the name of the father, son and the holy spirit, AMEN!!

-Honest Abe

Time....

Some of us treat it like life should be as...gift. By living in the present, and using the length of it wisely being worth wild. Others treat it like pest that eat your existence clock out of house and home. Letting it make and take you instead of the opposite. I wouldn't call myself an expert, but am a student of life, history...and by some peoples standards, bad timing. 

From my experience, time is a double edged sword. I start everyday I wake up as optimistic as the next man. Thinking I can have a great day today, with my plans firmy in place. Brush, shave, shower, dress and keep an eye on the clock. Having the feeling I'm gonna make it out of here when I need to. For the most part, I do. But never know what surprises are in store for me throughout the day. But somes days, time, makes me rush. Trailblazing like a road runner with no brakes. Knowing whats at stake if I stop it will be a waste. Waiting to enjoy the sweet taste of satisfaction when I've arrive to my destination tardy-less. Cause even with the speed of a demon and lack of patience, time is the acquaintence of no man. I've let it creep up on me too many times to count(when it came to school, work, and doing shows.) and it became, like me, my own worst enemy.

I've done my best to avoid the plagues of my history repeating itself. But like everyone else walking this earth, I'm not perfect. Fact is, at times, mistakes have to beat hard heads till they cum to the realization to learn from them. I guess in some aspect, you can call it trial and error. Life is a experiental process and God is the scientist. As far as I'm concerned, we're concockted in his holy lab, and are following his scientific method. I don't mean to get too religious on people, but thats what I believe. High school was a scientific experiment test for me. I failed it on more than one occasion, due in part to self-diaria procrastination. Once I figured out the right formula and got through it...most of my friends had moved on and I lost touch with a lot of them. 

If you linger on times past which can't be altered...father time will have you...mind body and soul. I've seen how its affected people I know. Thats why its so neccesary to set your own time table. Like when you lose some one close to you or not close, but you do know them(by disease, accident, murder...or was God's will to take them cause it was their "TIME"). Events like this(assassination of black leaders and admirable men and women of the past century, Garvey, Adam clayton powell, malcom, medgar, Lincoln, martin, Coretta, Huey newton, Kennedy, Tubman, Ossie Davis...the list goes on) make you reevaluate time, you existence and what you plan to do with both while your here.

Life is a process. And we are all a work in progress. Also should be graceful enough to open our eyes when a new day arrives to see you've been granted a new opportunity...to use time to your advantage to make history in your lifetime. I'm not trying to preech. I just firmly believe that when I wake up every day, if I haven't done at least one thing productive, prosperous, and positive by the end of it....I've just wasted 24hrs by being in this world.

But whoever reads this may just see it as the ramblings of poet/man that don't know what he's talking about. Take my inciteful message for what it is. I'm just hopefull someone sees where I'm coming from and it helps him/her in some way, shape or form. The truth has spoken....thankyou for listening. 

-Honest Abe

Why at a time in my life I didn't wanna speak...so people couldn't jus listen

It may kinda surprise some people who haven't know me before I ended up knee deep in this poetry thing...but I wasn't the most talkative/conversationalist growing up. Though I've heard I still am not by a handfull of people now a days.

When I was younger, I didn't really converse much or want to with most indivisuals I wasn't related to. So most decided to label me with the "shy/quiet" stigma. And don't misconstrue as to why I was. It wasn't that I was afraid, it was that if I ain't know you well by any short measure...I just didn't feel comfirtable being open with you. There are others even some artists and celebrities(including some of your favorite movie stars and such) that are like that even up to today, despite how they act in their profession. But as the years went by, I had no choice but to be active with conversing with strangers if I were to advance and prosper to the point I'm at today. Especially concerning school, distant relatives and at the jobs I held down over the years, given how long I had work there.

I guess with those solitary, reserved yrs. I went through some, if not all that pented up feelings and frustration that came with some missed opportunities (some potential relationships, friendships...etc...) had to come out in some form.

The stigma place on me from an early age started to be lifted little by little as I became more social and progressive in my demanor with my voice and actions regaurding school and other public places....but shades of my past descretions of being the "shy one" came back in some ways. Which affected my learning proccess during my highschool years.(there were some long nights I stayed up, pondering why I was like this and couldn't jus do what seemed to be & look so simple to and for others around me) And though I never openly addmitted it to fam & the few friends I did have. I was in a session of depression. Some wondered what was going on with me...but few bothered to even ask.

I'm not sure if anyone else went through anything even similar to this...and alot of people may be thinking "suck it up and move on already!" but if you can't even phathom to understand what I went through and am talking about...then you don't and won't ever will. Its still not easy for me to understand why I do or did certain things I have done.

But I just think, like M.I.M.S. believes music is his savior....I happen to believe in P.I.M.S.(poetry is my savior) Because i can't begin to tell you what might have done, negatively within these past two and a 1/2 yrs if I hadn't fell knee deep into the art of spoken word poetry and started to realize that WHEN THE TRUTH SPEAKS...JUS LISTEN......

-honest Abe