In Front

In front of the people, she's like,
"Ladies and gentlemen..."
Her hair is over her ear and her teeth are clean
And her self esteem is there, too.

She shivers and a gray day
Plays in her head.
The mouth speaks and the soul lifts.
Her eyes are even following the paper.
But her mind is dabbling in paints.

She holds her arm up to match the words:
"I say that we, the youth, are winners."
She says this, but her mind has woven a
Tapestry of spiders with furry gray hairs.

The watchers are clapping with admiration.
She though, is dancing in her imagination.
Stars are slate and the streets of her thoughts
Are the color of pencil lead.

The crowd relaxes at the ebbs of her sayings.
She still sees (even while talking)things
Like flowing platinum ink in motion
like Flash animation.

She quotes: "Thank you, and God bless."
They become observers of a great speaker
And show their trust in this idea by giving great praises
To the messenger and the most high.

The gray pedestrian crossing sign in her mind turns yellow.
She smiles, bows, and walks.

The Ball is Work

The ball is work.
When you pass the ball to a teammate, that's
You giving them a job.

Shaq's pass to Wade is giving him work.
Wade's slam is the cashing in on that work.
Some people are myopic and their Abdul-Jabbar goggles
Are fogged.

They think that those points are the end of it.
The big picture, however, is this:
Those points win that game. That game contributes to wins for that season.
That season gives way to the playoffs. Those playoffs are for you to win.
The finals, finally, must be won.

The end goal is not a saffron ring with nylon teeth.
The end goal is that ring with the year you won in the NBA Finals against the
Second best team.

What awaits you is a yellow cup with a glowing orb frozen on the end
Signifying to the rest your on court opulence.
Put all of your war paint on while you grind in the paint.
Go hard for boards and crash the floor if necessary.

Dash and dish
And add assists.
Your assets are your teammates
And they are the advantages to adavancement.

When you take up the work, cash in on demand.
And since the ball is work,
Always remember that's what takes your team to the Promised Land.

It Turned Kite

It jumped from the ground.
The body of it in all its green and white leapt and
Flew into the wind.

It flew.
The tent flew into the air.
It turned kite and flew like a flea.

It flew, it flew, it flew, it flew.
The tent, it turned kite.
Well, it leapt from its stakes
And flew.

Like wings into blue
The green and white went and
The whole tent flew.
Picture wind carrying white strings
And tarpaulin into the sky.

It flew and flew and seemed to want
To break free of the ground.
Stakes were returned to their original posts
And their trials were set back on track.

Strings strained only for a few more moments.
For the tent which desired to be a kite
Flew again.

The metal structures lost thought
And those poles were stripped from sockets.
That tarpaulin assumed a roll shape.

It flew, it flew, it flew, it flew.
But the tent never flew in the garage.

Omit it/ Omitted and then...Found!

Charge it to the...
You don't remember, do you?
Well, there is a fine line twisting in the wind.

What about all the frills that poured before you?
What about that?
Do you remember at all?

There were also wisps of gifts of weight you could have acknowledged?
Did you know that they say smart people have dumb money but you're money is a genius?
The former fits with the latter, of course.

Convenience for you, but there are blank faces about you, see them?
Murmurs are thrashing at you and you begin to cry out.
That's right. Start your begging 'cause there's never gonna be another day.

All you had to say was thank you.
It's that simple kid!
But ghosts raped your moment and took hold of your invention.

Quacks giggled at your indiscretion and handled their prizes with care.
Thieves skipped to the beats of your own poor prudence.
Hypocrites tickled their tastes and supped up all that was left.

It's a shame! I'm telling you! You don't hear.
Take away this bland day and insert at least an apology.

Consider the pains of broken backs and shredded flesh.
Peer designs of dreams expelled from the minds of your helpers.

They had missions that died after being slashed to ashes.
They had leather reigns wrested from them after they had just obtained positions.
Tears, rejection, loss, defeat, and exhaustion screamed louder.

In the dirt is where their hearts now lie.
And their minds are not unlike the spaces of silence before you think.

That's it! That's it! That's it!
Charge it to the mind.

Thanks again.