#Bearer of Men

[bearerofmen]

Legacies, Blue Prints, Footprints

Let me take a moment to celebrate you

My lifeline

You keep me grounded in this life time

When I see them

I take notice of you

The lessons you share

Our little blessing are aware

When I see them I appreciate you

They walk like you

Talk like you

It’s something I knew they’d do

My muse

A reminder of my family is you

So familiar

I see your ancestors

So particular

Knowing just the right moment to share a memory

A photo of the love you have for your family 

Raising our princes

Doing it honorably

Lets celebrate you and everyone like

I understand your strife

I am here for the celebration

You my love are God’s creation

He broke the mold

Constantly thinking about when we  grow old

Bold with audacity of hope for parts of our stories that are untold

I celebrate my left hand

Tatted on the knuckle

At times I chuckle

Obsessing over how you exceed expectations

You’re a lover of the Kobe System

Suggestions of lowering the bar tempt your patience

You’ve blown my imagination

When you acquired the label father

You haven’t taken it lightly

Blemishes surround that title but you dusted it off slightly

Stepped into the role with a vest on your chest

Slayer of perpetual perfection

Apple of our eye

Leading lovingly with correction

Confidently leading us in a direction

Joy, is that you playa?

Back again with my best friend?

Someone I willingly defend

Stand tall today my love you earned it

Don’t ever misunderstand brother

By your side not only as your lover

Here, confidently I stand

I watch silently when you grab our princes’ hand

The small gestures

The hero looks

The smiles they wear when you read them a book

I see you brother

We see you

Wake up grind

4 a.m. grind

Get to the coffee grinds

Baby we see you

Every time you chase a monster away

I see the looks on their face at night

Showing up daily despite life’s plight

My love we see you

And we thank you always

Happy Father’s Day

[bearerofmen]

Childishly Dreaming

          Believe me or not, before puberty, I could sing. Probably like every child can. I even sang for a few weddings. Now a day, I sound like a chicken coming home to roost. Sometimes I find myself in the shower with my middle finger closing my ear much like the renowned diva Mariah Carey, only sounding like a "dried mouth Mimi", singing to my heart's content. I live in America where "anything" is possible so I belt out my tone deaf notes and let the shower head act as my microphone and let her rip (everyone's ear drums that is). I do this until my three year old terrorist bangs on the bathroom door and shouts for me to,

          "Stop screaming mommy, please!"

          My Darling Terrorist can't appreciate my lack of talent.

          Afterward, I get out of the shower and think childishly of a time when I believed in "The American Dream." I reminisced about a time when I lived in St. Louis.

          On a crisp autumn evening, after the sun set, I sat on our front porch and sang Whitney Houston's song, I Will Always Love You.

          We lived in front of The Botanical Gardens. There are concerts held there on a regular basis. During concerts, we could never find a place to park in front of our home. Patrons of the concerts eagerly stole them from the residents. I whole heartedly believed, like on a movie, someone (specifically some sort of talent scout and Botanical Gardens patron) would walk down my street and discover my talent. I would end up a child star and be whisked away from that porch. From there I would go on to live in Hollywood, sing, become an actress, and then transition into writing movies or plays.

          I'm sure you all are laughing by now. I had it all figured out as most children my age at the time did. I knew the "American Dream" would come true because that's what America was. The land of the free. People moved here to fulfill its promises.

          I would give anything, do you understand, anything to believe that with the same passion I had as a child again.

          I grew up to be a realist. I should fill in the onomatopoeia response that may go with the facial expression of my readers. What does that supposed to mean right? Being a realist isn't always great. It can stifle your ability to dream or even worse, it can prevent you from figuring out how to achieve a dream.

           I often wonder, due to my realness, where I went wrong with most of my dreams? Did I give up singing because I had no talent or did I give up because someone told me I didn't. Everyone knows what is given to you as a gift can be taken away if you don't use it.

          I was really great friends with a guy that was more of a realist than I was. I thought we were becoming best friends and mistakenly shared my dream of becoming an actress with him.

           "You won't be an actress." He said disenchanted. He had also shared a fact that I was not light skinned and no where near as beautiful or popular as the women he adored on campus. So why did I think someone would even pay attention to me?" Goodness, the negativity, the "realness".

          "Really? How can you say that to me? How can you be sure of that? You never even saw me perform." The nerve of this kill joy. He shat on my dreams. In that moment he stole my joy and took America right from the palm of my hands and told me it wasn't real.

          "It's a dumb dream of being famous that everyone has and only 1% of the population makes it. You're not doing it now, which means you'll probably never do it. Besides if you were good enough you would have made it by now already or at least be in the industry. Face it. You can't act. You're not that kind of pretty anyway."

          I know you're dying to know how I reacted. No I didn't curse him out. However, I made sure he hated me when I was done. I did the only thing I knew to do as a hard woman at the time. In my mind, I broke that son of a bitch. We ended up disagreeing about something or another and I used it as my opportunity to unload an arsenal on his insecurities. I exposed my inner terrorist. I strapped on a helmet and went crashing into him with crude and rude behavior whenever I saw fit. I would laugh when I saw him with contempt, as if there were an evil plot against him that I only knew about. He confessed to my roommate once that I bullied him and tormented him so badly that when he saw me coming he would avoid me at all cost. Haha! I once thought. I was victorious. If I would never receive fame in his eyes then infamy would just have to do.

          Now, why would I share such a story you ask? Why do I share any? That moment stuck with me because it was a bench mark in my life. I allowed another person to affect me so much that I believed them and changed my dream and behavior. His approach stole the last bit of hope I had left in my dream for myself and it devastated me. Of course being a hard ass, I wouldn't just say it or show it.

          In the past I would have said something more negative to promote my thoughts on the matter 'He was not a TRUE friend or REAL friends don't...' I have cut that crap out. He is human and said what he thought would help me get over something that he genuinely thought would waste my time. Now that I'm spiritually more mature and not a kid seeking happiness I see it for what it was. His opinion sought to limit my scope because he was limited in his. You can't hate someone for not believing in you or not doing for you what you need to do for yourself. Believe in yourself and don't seek other's opinions for affirmation. It will only delay and hold you back. He really thought he was helping me. I bet he never knew why I was so mean to him and ended our friendship later over something so petty. I bet he doesn't even remember telling me that and never knew that he hurt my feelings once. I will just be looked at as this crazy girl with the sinister laugh. Or maybe not even remembered at all.

          Instead of staying positive and chipping away at all that I wanted, I believed him and hated him for the change I allowed him to make in me. I gave up.

          It was not just him but many situations of others feelings about me that allowed me to become angry and more aggressive because I was unknowingly allowing other people to define who I was. Defending myself to negativity made me more negative and draining. It turned me into a Nay Sayer as well. When my dream died and I saw "America" for what it was, it killed my positive energy that I felt was my duty to share with the world. I have had to fight to find the positive space in my mind and ultimately become joyful ever since.

          So I will share what I have learned and pray that I can share some "realness" and preserve for others what really needs to be understood when vying for success in this world. Never ever let anyone tell you what you can do. Never ever let any other person steal your joy and change you no matter the magnitude of the circumstances. Often times, people use others as a looking glass, and will project their hate or doubt in their selves off on others.

          I have had many circumstances and some were way more drastic than the ones that I am willing to share but they do not and will never define who I am. They do not define you either. People are afraid of great people and great things because life has trained them not to dream and speak their life into fruition. The power of your words are infinite. I have watched myself become exactly what I said I would be with only the will from above. It is literal to speak and will your life into a better place. Had I never let a Nay Sayer make me believe those things about myself, had I taken those words and used them positively to figure out my next moves to propel myself forward instead of drowning myself and mood with another person's negative spirit there is no telling what I could have achieved. For anyone who says that you cannot do something, take it as a lesson to quite simply keep your aspirations to yourself. Write down your dreams, post it everywhere you do work as reminders and motivation for yourself, research ways to get there, and don't receive another person's feelings about themselves that they may attempt to project onto you. You are as great as you believe!

 The dopeness that dwells within is a sin to those that never seek things higher

Dreams can't be recognized if you never aspire

Dreams are only differed by those that cage their mind

Those who can't see the sunshine are sometimes willingly blind.

A Dream differed depends on circumstances

If you open your eyes to them, you'll see multiple chances

Success isn't on mistake but a motto for those that failed to give up

Challenges last a while but due diligence always triumphs

[bearerofmen]

I Don't Need Him

           From the moment I had my first boyfriend, I have never known what made a boy like me. My attitude, throwing fits, and fighting my brothers made my mom start calling me Evil Ann. I have never put up with any bull shit!

          I have always been a hard pill to swallow. I have never been an extremely prissy woman. I will put on a great front but the moment I seem to open my mouth, I totally give myself away. I am rough around the edges to be more frank. This being the case, when I was a girl, I often fantasized about what my husband would be like.

         I imagined him tall and handsome. His smile would be perfect because mine isn't. His eyes, well they had to sparkle. I may have even imagined he would be a prince in disguise like from the movie 'Coming to America.' He would wisk me away and rescue me from my problems. However, I knew that I would never be weak and stupid for a man at an early age. I never ever intended on putting up with a mans crap. One thing was always on my mind. If I have to put up with crap, he can hit the pavement! Clear and simple 'Baby, I don't need a Man!'

          During my teen years it became a more developed fantasy. Still tall and handsome because I was a tall glass of water. So height requirements developed for the ride. He had to give me the world without question and worship the ground I walked on. He had to do what I told him and if he didn't then I wouldn't tolerate him. I was young and ignorantly fantasizing about a fan and an assistant. Certainly not a man. Unbeknownst to what an actual relationship needed to thrive, I labeled these things as my preferences. All the while oblivious and naive to realistic expectations.

          I did not fantasize about the actual wedding itself. I am weird like that. I was raised by a single parent. Just when I thought I could think about a wedding, a new idea formed and thoughts about a wedding faded away. Perhaps deep down inside I thought I would never get married. I had heard people say no one would desire me in that way. Perhaps I bought into that at an early age.

          By the time I entered full fledge womanhood, I took a hard look in the mirror and realized that it was probably going to be difficult to find a man that would love me and the baggage of flaws I carried with me everywhere. He would have to be like a key, I thought because I am a lock. He would need to figure out a way to open me up. I had an abundance of love and positive energy to release into the world, but the truth is I did not know how to tap into it. I couldn’t even access it. This man would be hand crafted by God to deal with my bull crap and my particularly aggressive form of tough love.

          As a younger woman I mistakenly thought he would fit perfectly into my fantasies. That was a general problem of mine. I fantasized all too much about perfection and what perfection would look like in my life. Yet, I wasn't perfect.

          First off, the twenty first century woman that I am burdened with being constructed multiple false ideologies of relationships in general, and of a man’s role in a relationship. Men and women generally think of all types of ways to alienate ourselves from one another.

          I was on a hiatus from relationships when I met my husband. I had finally removed the veil from my eyes from a past relationship that convinced me that I didn't deserve love. I took ownership of my mind and body. Finally, I began to accept and love myself. I recognized all that I had to offer; saw the joy and freedom that came with being a single woman with options. That gave me strength and confidence. With that confidence I abandoned the desire for a relationship. Naturally, I was on my worst behavior.

          I even tried to friend zone my husband at one point, until I was chastised by a mutual friend of ours. He heard me speaking about being interested in an entirely different guy. So he checked me.

          "Ericka, you know my boy really likes you." He insisted this with his brows furrowed together. He had pulled me to the side so that the other women couldn't and wouldn't ruin him as his friends wing man.

          "Well, we text and stuff but I can't tell. He just seems like he wants to be friends. He has ALOT of girl friends. What makes him serious about me?" I questioned.

          The truth was that I just couldn't tell by all his friends if he was serious about me or not. I wasn't willing to fall in love with a man who would fall in love with one of his friends. Especially since I was enjoying being single. Knowing myself to love hard and knowing my level of loyalty, past bruises blinded me to this man. Sometimes falling on your face too many times can prevent you from falling at all.

          "Well he has a lot of friends because he is a good person. I'm not joking, he is a good dude. He is one of the good guys. So don't play my man. Give him a chance for real."

          I finally took a closer look at him. He was a man that was familiar in all positive ways. He drank his coffee black with one sugar. That was so familiar. He read the news paper every day and was a perfect gentleman. I felt like we had met once, but we certainly had not. Slowly, by having no expectations of this man, I started to see all the things I never knew that I needed in him. He turned out to be far from perfect. So was I. Growing together in a relationship like ours prohibits anyone from walking away unscathed. We decided one day, after years of trying to play with each other’s mind; years of involving others in our on again/off again relationship where we played with each other’s emotions; years of battling each other for the upper hand in our relationship; finally we decided to let go and give in to each other.

          We gave in to each other’s demands, started to respect each other’s views and feelings, and it changed my life. I opened up and I allowed him to see the woman I really was. The exterior I hid behind was a façade. I thought he would run for the hills because I am a mess.  But he did not run. He kissed me, held me if I cried, and honored me. Now I am his wife. I had to learn that love is a choice. I learned it is not the notion: I don't need a man, I don't have to deal with him and his bull crap. Rather: the choice is if I truly love this man, I will deal with his bull crap because he puts up with mine. Loving someone forever includes falling in love with their faults and acknowledging your own. 

[bearerofmen]

All of the Lights

           There are so many good things that I received from my family that I can't talk about them all. One thing that I am proud to mention is our ability to debate each other constantly and find a way to reason with one another to see each other's point of view. It taught me to think for myself, respect the thoughts of others, argue my own ideas, and stand firm in my beliefs. However, it also helped me to change my opinion if there were facts and notions that positive and viably made sense. We picked on each other constantly until our skin was tougher and our understanding was more mature.

          My uncles are so wonderful, not perfect, no human being is. I mean they helped raise me so clearly in my direct reflection of them, they were flawed. On a more serious note, they mean the world to me. All of them. When you are raised by five different men and have brothers to boot you are going to gain a great deal of perspective but in a more hands on way.

          Lessons came in every way imaginable. I learned not to take what life throws my way so serious from Uncle Red. I laugh at myself and shrug off my short comings. Uncle Powell taught me to see the punch lines, participate in fist to cuffs, and to be tough. Bob, weave, and keep my chin up through life's punches. Uncle Freck taught me that no matter how mean and how tough a person is there is a soft side to everyone. I alway apologize, show love, share, cook, treat others to the gifts that God's given me. Uncle Ice taught me to love myself and my culture, no matter what I was called, no matter where I come from. Thanks to him I have the confidence to hold my head high, where my crown, and except my reflection in the mirror. Uncle Hook taught me to be fun, have tolerance, and patience.

          Uncle Hook was fun to be around. He was the type of person to tell you to get up early and be ready to go. A kid could easily find himself on an adventure to the park, museum, or science center. He made things easy to learn. Instead of educating at me, he listened to me talk, and made great examples that I have taken with me everywhere.

          I used to follow him around. I started reading the Funnies section of the newspaper because he loved them. His favorite was Calvin and Hobbs. He purchased a book of Calvin and Hobbs that was pretty much bound into a graphic novel. Since he loved it, I read it from cover to cover.

          I used to hop in the car with him every time he asked if I wanted to go for a ride.  We would listen to music that ranged from rock and roll to the blues.

          "Never limit yourself Ericka. Let me tell you something. You will mess yourself up only listening to one type of music, only watching one kind of movie, only thinking one kind of way. You're better than that. There is good stuff out here if you just give it a chance. Don't be trapped in a bubble of your own comfort zone because of where you're from or how you are raised." He said this as he gestured his hands waving them in the air.

          We wouldn't go anywhere in particular. We would just ride. He told me how important it was to be able to close your mouth sometimes and go with the flow. Relax, hang out with different types of people in different types of places and learn something new from them. Learn something from other people and their experiences. He taught me to appreciate new experiences and respect other peoples experience as well. One of my favorite things to learn about is different cultures thanks to him.

          There were always lessons during those car rides. The current climate of the country brings a lesson to mind.

          One evening we were riding and it was dark outside. The back roads in the country are poorly lit and narrow. I was 14 and I didn't know how to drive. A man driving on the opposite side of the road turned on his bright lights. They were so bright that they blinded us on our side of the road.

          "He is rude. I know he sees us." I said irritated.

          "I don't think he is doing it on purpose. He may not even realize that he has them on anymore. No big deal Stick Lady," said Uncle Hook. He called me one of the many nicknames they gave me as a child.

          "Well they need to. We're right here driving on this side and we can't see. There isn't enough road for that!" I exclaimed with attitude.

          We were driving on a one lane highway and there were ditches on both sides of us. One false move, going the wrong speed, and we could end up stuck in one of those ditches.

          "Let me ask you this, should I put my brights on to get back at the other driver?" He asked earnestly. He used a tone that suggested I respond, what should he do? He waited patiently for my answer.

          I thought seriously about it for a moment, then replied.

          "No, that wouldn't solve anything. If we can't see, and they can't see; then all of us will end up in a car accident for sure. We both can't ride around blind."

          "Exactly. Now you're thinking. Just remember that applies to everything."

          I'm not sure if he meant for me to remember this lesson and eventually apply it to life but I have.

          Today, I feel like Americans are riding around with there emotional bright lights on blinding others. Some people honestly don't mean to, while others are out to just reek havoc on us all because they are culturally misinformed. Something made them cut those lights of prejudice and intolerance on and people on the opposite side of it are cutting theirs on too. So we are all riding around blinded by our emotions and irresponsibly crashing into each other out of rage and audacious backlash. I have been there, and despite being raised better I have been berated into a crash or two. Today I can tell you that we need to be the kind of people who can think and not be blinded by another person's thoughts and emotions. We are a Nation full of differences. In order to grow together, we have to have people who can take a step back, look at the road, and think about what would happen if we are all riding around blind. Let's not all end up in a ditch.

[bearerofmen]

The Battlefield

            The gaze of a controlled reaction to my evenings behavior was too much for me to handle. Everyone knows the look. It's a stubborn dead stare into the distance because they don't agree with your current behavior or reaction to a situation. Unless you have a band of yes men that surround you, then you know the look. The silence was insurmountable because my friend and I had past the usual label of mere friends or besties. We had graduated to sisterhood. I have a few women that I refer to as this. So I said something because I needed her opinion. I was devastated and confused. I needed to know if I was thinking clearly.

             "Well," she paced herself, "I just think that you guys really have a good thing going on E. You guys are going to just ruin it. You're going to just mess it all up with this foolishness you guys have going on if you don't fix it."

             There it was I asked for it. Honesty; not really harsh but true. My respect for it was evident because I retreated back into my thoughts. I reviewed more than just our conflict but our true love that I knew and other people also knew to be real.  It was good most of the time.

          There just seemed to always be a dispute between us.

           "Despite everything you guys are going through...I just love you guys. I think you guys are good for each other. Now, I'm not condoning anything he has done. He is an asshole. I'll give you that. But you are also a bitch, Ericka. You are so dirty for sending that text message," another confidant of mine explained.

             We shared a laugh and mine was sheepish. This man hit a nerve and hurt my feelings. Why couldn't I return the favor. A relationship is supposed to be made of reciprocity right?

             "How? He said," I started.

             "I know what he said. But you still didn't have to go there," she vehemently interrupted.

              I had an attitude but she was correct. The Kobe system couldn't apply to relationships could it? Especially not for a woman.

               Still, I found myself in battles over the security of our love.

               "Calm down Ericka," my then new friend, but now best of friends exclaimed.

                I couldn't gain my composure. I felt exposed. I had finally learned to hide so much about a relationship because I wanted to preserve it. The mere notion that someone could see the faults in it and in me made me panic. I was nearly stricken with paralysis. The thought made me queasy and uneasy around her at first. She assured me that she wasn't just any old person. She was my friend. I opened up a bit. Again we battled with love and trying to control parts of our relationship that mattered.

               She told me plainly, "You shouldn't make him do anything. He shouldn't make you do anything. You guys should just do the right things period. He shouldn't do things and you shouldn't do things to hurt each other because it isn't right; because he loves you. Not because you guys are afraid of what the other might find out or think or whatever the case may be. Love doesn't work like that. You guys love each other. Love each other and just let go of the other stuff. Don't do and say things out of respect for that love. You guys are people stop trying to control each other. Don't try and give any ultimatums."

               I had never been made more calm in all my life from such blunt words. She was right. Love is war but it isn't a forced battle between two people. People join it mutually knowing what work it entails.

               I'm not qualified to give advice. I have no answers on honesty, lust, or any other issue that engulfs relationships. No one relationship could ever give someone enough perspective or clarity to understand the insanity that is love.

               Insanity is a characteristic of love. Love is also a battle field. Hear me out: you are insane (a state of psychosis) when you are in love. A person could be at ease one moment and in the next moment they can catch their lover cheating. Rage can literally take over, shut down the senses and make some one behave like they belong in a mental institution. That same person, once calm, will know what they saw with their own two eyes and still be lied to. No matter if that person allows another person to lie to them or not. They eat that lie like it is a top five filet mignon and devour it whole. They may then take that very person back.  Is that not insane? To believe the very opposite of what you rationally know is true or fact, because you love and believe in your lover.

               Yes love is psychotic and if caught off guard will make you a hypocrite. You will find a sour after taste resonating on the tongue from all of the 'I would nevers' you have spoken. Life shows you in time an angel and demon lives within all of us. That is what brings about the battle field.

               Love is a game that should never be played until you realize that there is no choice in playing the game. Arming yourself properly is the only way to survive. There will always be a war. Married, open or shut relationships, or single, it doesn't matter. The labels merely provide a different scenery but the war ensues regardless.

             Battles are fought for large reasons like cheating all the way down to the most minute issues such as washing the damn dishes.  At the beginning of the battle, each partner should consider this, for every battle fought there are two losers. Pieces of the relationship can die forever depending on how gruesome and savage the warriors become.

               I am an alpha woman. In every sense of the word I have embraced the hardness, the coldness, and the savagery I have been groomed with. Being a witty and foul mouthed bitch is something of a talent mostly. My husband knew I had it day one right? So why shouldn't I deliver the same victorious blows during an argument when vicious licks are being thrown my way. I am a fucking winner. I win. However, one day I realized that I was losing. We were losing. Our great foundation crumbed and buckled after every viscous word I thought I was only using to defend myself. I am quite the writer. Poetic and dramatic. Throw a couple of f-bombs in there and I am like a modern day Shakespearian genius.  The hurt my love felt when he would bring it up later after the smoke cleared and the fires were put out  would destroy me.

               Who was I? Why was I that petty. How could I be that cruel. Even if he took it there first did I have to rise to the occasion? You see, it's something they will never admit but women, we are stronger than our men. It was built that way by design. Adam was sad and alone and viola. God gave us to man because we are what he is missing. He needs us to be strong and lift him up. Filling the empty void is exactly our purpose in his life.

            Don't misunderstand what I am saying. The fight is what keeps the relationship alive; without an argument, there is room for doubt, infidelity, anger, and loneliness. The way we handle each battle is how relationships last. If you truly love the person you have chosen to argue with, just like with true friends, spare your lover a death to your relationship. Remember that you are half the heart and they are the other half. We are all just halves of a whole until we meet the person that completes us. Hurting them only hurts you if they complete you. If one half of a human heart is shot or cut to pieces the other half can't survive. Don't turn a temporary battle within the war called love into a dynasty ending finale.