(this one is a love fest for my poet friends)
Teach me, Papi, what stars are made from.
I want to be a success like you.
Teach me, Dear Heart, what love is made of.
I want to give it back to you.
Teach me, Sweet Girl, how to care give.
I want open hands like yours.
Teach me, Brother Nature, the heart's way to live.
I want faith and grace like yours.
Happiness is borderline inappropriate jokes with a tall Nuyorican.
It's inhaling second-hand smoke while discussing the meaning of everything.
Acceptance is compliments and kisses from a southside white Jew.
It's pretending to put up walls specifically so he will reach through and touch.
Love is women, cast out by society, giving hugs and speaking words.
It's knowing that they've misdefined beautiful because there aren't enough more like these.
Insight is a pitbull with long hair and a strand of sacred prayer beads.
It's being blessed through a soul that forces yours to reach beyond itself.
Please, teach me.
Passion is blond hair and blue eyes born on an East Texas stage.
It's showing the world that they must look past the first page to see real.
Dedication is a world champion twice over.
It's performance over personal desire because there's always more ground to cover.
Intensity is multiples of three locked into something bigger than himself.
It's irrevocably yoked to coaxing souls back from the gates of hell.
Ferocity is packaged small but heard in the same places as that historic gunshot.
It dares us to utilize ideas outside the box that previously held our thoughts.
Desire is multifaceted, seeing what the world won't see.
It's coupled with the ferocious to change the culture of the streets.
Will you teach me?
Because there's a Krysis that makes me reach for Mo', man. It teaches me to Khary others' burdens so that Mabrey we'll hear when justice comes Colin.
When I saw the Red Eagle fly, I prayed Missa May I move the Hudge to a place where we all like to keep things Kosher and our words can heal the sick and make Manuel.