Daydream

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“All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity; but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible. This I did.”

– T.E. Lawrence aka Lawrence of Arabia

She walked into my Human Anatomy classroom with red heels as high as my state of mind, dangerous weapons of mass seduction that immediately inspired my perpetual infatuation. She carried on her right shoulder a Louis Vutton purse as big as my ego, and her countenance bore a sparkling pair of eyes as charming as my charisma. It was like The Lord had returned prematurely as a woman, because the light she radiated was undoubtedly divine. And I’d heard through the grapevine, that she only considered herself a nine. Faint attempt at modesty if you ask me because this girl was phenomenally fine. Her lips wore the color of sweet red wine. And all I wanted to do was dine…with her. Ok maybe I lied…more like have her…for dinner. And perhaps also for dessert. Oh the thirst! She was the oasis to my desert! Her hips were like an hour glass pouring infinite golden grains of sand, with enough winding curves to leave even the Prince of Persia wishing he had a genie of his own, like Aladdin, so he could simply wish to be reduced into just one of those tiny grains of sand pouring down inside her. And her thighs? Lawd her thighs! Suffice it to say they’d make many a priest reconsider, and let out long deep sighs. Not to mention her breasts…now they were like luminous lanterns, lighting the way for sore eyes. A counter-intuitive sight, considering that they practically frequently rendered me blind as I eventually found my face planking in them! But not before we were married (of course). For this woman of wonder would not be hurried. Her disposition was rather clear: the only manner of man she would ever seriously entertain was he who would position himself to patiently wait; who would not treat her like some kind of helpless bait…but who would gladly withstand the fire, and yet never tire…of waiting to exhale, at just that precise moment when he’d finally have her approval, after first obtaining her Almighty Father’s approval. Honestly, that narrow path less traveled was preposterously difficult, especially for one who’s already quickly stumbled, along the wide path all too frequently traveled, by way too many sailors, rocking all the wrong fishing boats. I almost called it quits as I was seeming to lose my wits! But then I remembered, nothing worth acquiring is ever easily acquired. For me, that was a very, necessary, epiphany. It’s been more than worth it ever since that defining lesson. Today, I have the pleasure of experiencing Heaven…on Earth in two places – when I kneel with her in church, and when I lie with her in bed, making love faces. After a love life of hopelessly romantic strife, this is the story of how I met my lovely wife. And for the rest of my life…well it would seem, that I will never forget this…daydream.

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A Different Man

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“To be counted among the best, you must be different from the rest.” -kR

He approached her and said, “These other men obviously think you’re pretty but I’m afraid they’re either blind or simply gravely mistaken…”
She looked up at him most contemptuously, as if feeling insulted. But before she could retort in kind he continued, “You’re much more than that…”
Just a moment ago he had her resentment. Now he had her attention.
“Just in case you’re just as mistaken, please allow me to show you what I mean…”
As she sat in her seat perplexed by the range of emotions this strange man had just taken her through in mere moments, he perplexed her even further. Taking a knee before her he removed a mirror from his coat pocket, held it up to her face and said, “Tell me beautiful stranger, what is it you see?”
“Uhm…pieces of me I guess?” She replied timidly. “Your mirror is broken, Sir…I don’t understand.” In response he simply gave a hint of a smile. Tucking the mirror away he said, “Now look me in the eyes and tell me what it is you see.”
At this point she was transfixed to her seat, uncertain about what to think, say or do. Never before had she been approached in such a manner, or by such a manner of man. And she had been approached more times than she even cared to remember, and by more men than she’d ever bother to consider. But to say that this man was different would be an understatement. He then extended his hand toward her as if requesting a formal dance. Taking her left hand in his right he placed a gentle kiss upon it. As he did, he looked into her big, lovely, curious brown eyes and said, “What you saw when you looked into my broken mirror were but fragments of the puzzle that you are; parts of your body and pieces of your heart that reflected the misplaced desires of many a common man, and the many failures of your previous men, respectively…”
By this time her breathing was getting heavy as she had begun to feel the thoughts in her mind accelerate and the heartbeat in her chest palpitate. “What you saw when you looked into my eyes was the future, the whole picture; the full reflection of the wonder of woman I am certain is to become my completion. And I…”
Without thinking she said, “I do!” Realizing her response might have been way too premature and feeling embarrassed for it, she quickly turned her gaze from him and down at her feet. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” She was amazed at how such a routine task had suddenly become a near impossible feat for her.
“It’s okay, I was just wondering if you would care to share this dance with me.”
It was only then she realized that she hadn’t even noticed when the soft music had started playing. Regaining her bearings and only appearing to regain her signature composure, she smiled from ear to ear and looked up at him. “How could I possibly say no now?”

P.S. Sometimes, when a woman so easily says yes to a man it is not because she is easy; some men just make it difficult for a woman to say no.

A Secret Name

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You couldn’t spell her name without…ah never mind that cliche, just call her unique. For truly eyes have never before beheld such a mesmerizing physique. And while her physical appearance is naturally endearing, it is her mental prowess that is most positively appealing. What wonder of woman; beyond wonderful actually, the eighth wonder of the world if we’re talking factually. I met her when she was but a caterpillar, and yet I knew this was a creature I’d someday want to make my pillar. The embodiment of language, culture, and diversity, this woman’s portrait would be the envy of the Mona Lisa. It’s a privilege to be counted among her compatriots; honestly a visit with her ought to require a visa. To accurately capture her personality I’d have to commission Da Vinci to create another masterpiece. She could make your heart go to war and still manage to leave your mind at peace. I believe her favorite word is Serendipity. I do wonder, what it would take to have Webster’s Dictionary replace it with __________.

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My Favorite Class

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She was only a stranger until I first laid eyes upon her. Impressed by her course description I decided to enroll. I then quickly moved my way up into her honor roll. And she immediately became my favorite class. I must’ve made a good first impression myself since she named me the class prefect. However, due to our natural geographic incompatibility and my financially limited mobility, I had to settle for a distance education. You know what they say about online classes, I found it so hard to focus! Seeking leverage over competing students I would’ve gladly been the teacher’s pet but this was college. So fancy, she made me trust my intuition over her tuition. Her lessons were quite expensive but worth every penny. I even applied for financial aid just so I could afford her intellectual aid. I took out emotional loans, of which I still owe the balance. I have since dropped out of all my other classes and defaulted on my outstanding loans. I pray my exes find a way to forgive me. But once you find the one for you, you’ve finally found your major. Having already changed it quite a few times, I was convinced I had at last discovered my calling. To think I started out as just a foreign exchange student who quickly became an acquaintance, who eventually became an Associate…but I messed up. I failed her! And then I became a Bachelor for it…for a while…that is, until she gave me a second chance to make amends for my bad romance. Today, I am proud to say I have a Masters in her. Soon enough I’ll be able to give her this PhD! I mean, it’s been about six years, you know! Besides, with my new-found pedigree, we both agree I’ve definitely earned THAT degree! Some tell me that it took me way too long…maybe this is true, but to each his own. It’s not a sprint but a marathon. Moreover, a wise man once told me that what matters most is not the destination but the journey. The bottom line is, I have stood the test of time and passed my final exam. Henceforth, I shall take this class every year until death do me drop out.

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Math I Am

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“I’m not the common denominator, I’m the standard deviation.” -kR

The equation I had to solve to arrive at this point was very difficult.
It took me several angles, countless functions and multiple variables.
The Statistics were dismal and my Probability for success abysmal.
Not sure which was worse – my Pythagoras dilemma or my misCalculus.

All I remember clearly is that the Matrices had me far from rational.
Were the numbers real or were they prime?
How much farther did I have to extend my radius in order to reach my diameter?
I couldn’t tell while trapped in my oversized parabolas.

I do recall that in my limited circumference someone offered me Π
I was elated until I discovered that this Π was rather tasteless.
Then I met a lovely figure, a Sweet 16 in whom I was well delighted.
Until I found that the Square of my feelings was merely the Square Root of hers.

I was depressed for a while in the small Area where I lived.
Not to mention the pain I endured while circling her Perimeter over and over.
The length and the width, times two; again and again and again.
It’s hard not to reminisce about my lost x, who many are still trying to find today.

One Professor X once told me that there would always be a need to find her.
But after I’d found x umpteen times I found myself looking for y.
Fearing it wouldn’t be much longer before I would be asked to find both x and y,
I gave up on such infinite and futile searches altogether.

I took a long voyage with several others aboard The Geometry.
Soon enough we encountered a storm that left us stranded on the Island of Trigonometry.
From there, there would be no escaping until the rescue ship Algebra came around our way.
And that’s how I came upon the Quadratic Formula that forever changed my life.

I multiplied my strengths and divided my weaknesses.
I added my faith and subtracted my fear.
It was then that I truly became a factor.
It was then that the fraction that was me was converted into a whole number.

Today, I am confident as I approach life’s multitude of problems.
I know that as long as I have the right formula I can solve them all.
For years I have practiced and put my skills to the test.
I have even earned a brand new name – Math I Am.

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The Circle of Life

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“The difference between a man and a boy is analogous to that between a lion and a cub. One’s king, while the other plays around like he’s king.” -kR

These days I see but a jungle full of cubs posing for lions. Too many Simbas, not enough Mufasas! Oh so you just can’t wait to be king, and yet you couldn’t get your so called queen a wedding ring. First you sniffed her all around, getting her all aroused. Then you played around her, then you played around with her, then you played with her, and then ultimately you played her. Your roar was so fake, for you swore she was your only cake. But then she caught you eating quite a number of other cupcakes. And now you come crawling back to me talking about how the stakes…are so high, and you just have to have her back. Fool, you’d still have her if only you’d never turned your back on her, but had continued to have her back instead of cheating behind her back. It was your pride that was your undoing. Now you are a victim of your own wrongdoing. No son, it’s not that life is unfair, it’s just the circle of life! What goes around comes around…and now you’ve crash landed into the ground – a wounded lion. Now tell me, what hurts more – is it your heart or your pride? That’s important for you to decide. For you see, if it’s the former, then there’s hope for you yet; because while hearts may bend they can still mend if you would make amends. But if it’s the latter, then understand that no amount of flatter will help you resolve this matter. I’m afraid my own pride will not let me welcome you back into the Pride. For a lion to claim a queen he must first become a king. Until you learn that lesson my little cub, you deserve no more than those thirsty little hyenas. Remember:  In the jungle, you only reap what you sow! Now at last my dear son, now at least…you know!

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N***as ain’t S**t

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“I don’t need no man,” her unsolicited mantra would sound the alarm in our ear drums, a constant reminder to whomever was unfortunate enough to be counted among her audience, whereas our sole wish was to hit the damn snooze button. “I don’t want a man,” would follow suit, as if to properly distinguish her needs versus wants and nevertheless inaccurately disparage both as unnecessary synonyms that were not applicable to her chosen life of hermitical solitude. “Niggas ain’t shit!” Well, the n-word must’ve been used here to identify and emphasize her disdain for the alleged culprit, although this rhetoric had worn its welcome and now bordered on gross annoyance. Undoubtedly, this woman was suffering from a paralysis of the heart. Yes, she was hearticapped! Apparently, the last “nigga” had put her heart in a chokehold and strangled it, crippling whatever little love she had left. This tragedy obviously resulted in the disintegration of what was once a peculiarly strong black woman, and had replaced it with an utterly destructive black hole, capable of sucking with overwhelming gravity, even the faintest of feelings that would naturally fall upon those around her who would dare to fall in love. “Ain’t nobody got time fo that!” She would instinctively retort whenever questioned about her bitter disposition toward her male counterparts; and for that matter, all matters of the heart. No harm, no foul, she swore. Besides, all is fair in love and war. She’d become indifferent to the difference between the two. But here’s the irony of it all: One fateful day, she received a call…from her 9 year old son’s school informing her he’d been sent home for acting a fool, and coming to school…in a dress. Apparently, he’d insisted all day that he wanted to be a woman instead. As she confronted the boy when he got home later that afternoon, she looked at him scornfully and scolded, “Boy, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” A sad scene followed indeed as the young boy sobbed uncontrollably. At once overwhelmed and emboldened by his misery, the poor boy looked up at his mother pitifully. His face flooded in tears, he managed only to reply all too familiar words, “Niggas ain’t shit!”

 

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I Need More Ink

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Drip, drip, drip…

That is the sound of ink spilling from my veins as I clutch desperately to the reins of this flamboyant work of art, eerily similar to that of Mozart. I know Life is better with art in it, and that the earth is just “eh” without “art” in it. Staring at a blank page, seeing my reflection in its blatant nothingness; brainstorming on how to unfathomably craft some semblance of intelligence out of this most profound emptiness. Mind over matter, and I normally pay no mind to that which doesn’t matter. And yet in this peculiar moment my good old creativity is transfixed, like The Good Lord on a crucifix. For this predicament I’m afraid there is no quick fix, no red pill to awaken me from this elaborate Matrix. My mind is bleeding profusely, so much so that I cannot help but feel my aching heart cry. I find myself unable to write anymore, as if all of my ink has finally run completely dry.

Drip, drip, drip…I need more ink!

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