Lone Soldier

Do not let your loneliness give way to desolation

Do not let your differences make you hopeless

You may be alone in the dark right now

But understand that this is the best place for you to shine your light

I know you feel abandoned by those whom you love

And that you crave the simple care of those who say they love you

I know what it is to be a part of something and yet not at all

I know what it is to wonder if you are ever, truly seen at all

You are.

This is what I know…

You may not be seen by those you would like to be seen by

You may not feel the way, in your mind, you ought to feel

But despite that, your penchant for impact, is firmly intact

Solo doesn’t mean you can’t glow- it means let the fuel for your blaze be an unquenchable hope

I see you- Lone Soldier…

So get up in arms- the world knows us not, yet needs what we are


For faith… hope… and love.

Keep up the good fight- Lone Soldier


Fly (remix)

Dear journal, better dear diary

Feelin Michellin, I am tiring

Old milk in the fridge I’m expiring

Workin for myself cuz no one’s hiring

What I desire is a full break through

Not another manager tellin me my break’s through

Dream is a window reality breaks through

And the drift in my drive is one the brake’s threw

I’ve got to believe in me

Achieve in me, cuz something is grieving me

Policing my mind for doubtful disorders

Snatchin the green card from thoughts that cross borders

What I am is royalty- sire

Fresh and verylintless- drier

Born under a star, like the Messiah

Birthed to make the earth glow- fire


Word to Minaj for the very next statement

I represent an entire generation

Racket to the pavement, we are not playin

Look us in the eyes, don’t send us to your agent

I am contorting, morphing

Optimus, Bumblebee, I am transforming

Narnia.  Aslan.  I am roaring

We need the Lord to reign.  Glory.  Pourin

These days peeps wanna do things they self

You’re considered an urban legend if you’re prayin for help

But what I’m posed to do?  I can’t reach the top shelf

The power to change is one greater than myself

So I will fight.  I will win.

I will pray, and I will live.

Use the Force, and walk on the sky

Cuz deep inside our hearts we are ALL Jedi


The Wordsmith

Voice of the People

I can hardly breathe…

I can barely form my lips to speak.

I’ve gone plumb dumb on the light from my memories, because the nightmares of this present reality keeps haunting me…

I close my eyes and all I see is the perverted light.

I open and my pupils are consumed by the fervent night.

The widows wail, the orphans cry, and the tears from my eyes smash with a thunderous echo…

Where is justice?

How long has it been since justice received its own death sentence amid the cacophony of ruses invented to prevent us from hearing it?

How many “whys” have we missed in the glistening essence of our self righteous sighs?

We have placed the dollar sign as the price of the self righteous life, knowing it’s not right, but not willing to bankrupt ourselves to change a life…

I mean- how am I supposed to feel about this?!  What use is there in eloquence, or usefulness in bitterness?!

As much as my mind doesn’t want to admit it, my heart SCREAMS that we first need forgiveness!  Forgiveness will open the door to proper living…Everybody wants to live, but nobody wants to die for life-

So we make the unjust sacrifice.

What’s next?!  When will that line be drawn?!

Perhaps a pregnant lady needs to be shot in the face, or a child nailed to a wall.

Let’s dip a newborn into scalding hot water, or resurrect negro torture- tar and burn.

It’s turn or burn at this point, but we’ve cut ourselves on it, and chosen the flames!  Hell hath no need of us, nor Satan, for we proudly bear their namesake.

Haiti was a love fest until two months after the earthquake… Through injustice we submit ourselves to date rape, but then want to abort the baby!!  At LEAST let the life emerge from the tragedy… Elsewise these dramas are in vain… Shakespeare moans in his grave…

A movement of justice should not end with a catastrophe- the catastrophe is designed to get feet moving.  Like a treadmill under a fat man, it is built to get your feet MOVING.

The body of humanity can suffer only so many heart attacks, before the system shuts down entirely.

Got the Gospel?


Got love?


Deny yourself everything you deserve in greater service to the herd…

Only then will we weaken this spirit of the night…

Only then shall the power of Truth, truly ignite…

Never settle- not even in your mind…






~The Wordsmith


Good Women

This is an ode to the good women…

The women who are proud of their ethnicity, and can genuinely affirm their own beauty…

This is a shout out to the women who survived abuse, and daddy issues, and now issue a decree of new like the dawn of the sun on January first…

This is a reverent praise to the strong and the few… The ones whose lives were shattered, but used resolve and God as their emotional glue… The ladies who shine like night lights that survived the red light and emerged into the daylight… The ones who did what they had to do to get to the honey like winnie the pooh, and aren’t bound by a deluding sense of having something to prove- the ones who have seen the paw print of Jesus and caught a clue…. His blood purifies and rectifies you.

This is for the women swimmin’ upstream from their past… Who recognize that, constant reflection is bad, who can inch one limping step ahead at a time until they reach the golden path…

This is for the women who became women to early, and for the mothers who became mothers too soon… I salute your fight, and your staunch resilience against the grief the WORLD delivered to you.

This is for the women who through shaded jaded perspective can spot a good man… The women who can, be honest with themselves and, be transparent to the point of exposing GOD’S plan… For the women who hold it together despite coming undone… For the women who do not lose their stance under pressure, but rather become living diamonds… Good women.

This goes out to all the women, from the lightest to the tinted, who have tented their “ness” and became at home in their own skin…

This is for the women who- with no solid examples- managed to become wife material… The women who fed on lack yet now nurture.  Who were raised by lazy, but became workers.  Who were attempted abortions, and emerged to become sanctified BIRTHERS…

This is for the good women.

This is for the women who learned to be women, without the catalyst of a horror story… The women who had to pave the road of peace… This is for the women who make living a joy… The women who draw real men out from their caves to come and see…

This is an ode from a young man blessed on every side by women who may have started off as less, but transcended into Queens capable of taking over the land…

Praise God…

For the good women.


~The Wordsmith

Free 32

Ay what you thinkin?  Fall back homie

I am the authentic.  Thats right, the real thing.

You might find yourself alive if you try and kill me

My cup already runneth over, so you can’t spill me

But sit here a spell.  And weave your magic on my mind

You can’t touch me, I’m divine, but please- try

Sell me your product, and multiply your lies

Derail me with false conduct, and try to make me cry

I’m looking in your mind.  Yessir I’m Xavier.

And you’ve been exed man, because of your enmity

Attempting to crush me because you see me as your enemy but

TRUE power comes at that point between rage and serenity

It seems so surreal, that power isn’t serene

But I tell you it’s the truth, just like yo in-laws are mean

Cook a pot of beans.  Digest and excrete.

And in the fumes of the aftermath admit your defeat


I don’t wanna burst your bubble, but all I know is, that I got to

We are breaking from the huddle, to get in formation so we can break you

Blitz your quarterback, take it to the bank, we done flipped your fish in that tank

We stayed electrified, something like crank, see us on our knees, it’s God we thank

Ha…. So I hope by now, you’ve listened to me, and learn that lesson

Because a secondary course would probably be depressin

Now you need medicine.  Now you need benefits.  Because wisdom’s scrubs you wouldn’t fit

You sick of this?  Get rid of it.  Unball your fists, and have a sit

I mean a seat.  Homie please.  I’m tired of hangin my adversaries from trees

I would much rather sit down with you and drink some coffee

The alternative is that you strike me, and I end up killin you softly

Or slowly.  Unholy.  Separating your life from its molding

So the moral.  Of this story.  Is don’t squeeze the hand you’re holding

Do not torch the jungle and think that you ain’t gon’ deal with Mowgli

Dude got so much attitude he could star in a Tyler Perry story

Goodnight on you.  I’m higher than you.  You can call me the morning glory


~The Wordsmith