I wasn't sure what to write about or to put on here this week, so...here's another poem:

SEVENTY FIVE PERCENT

I sit here, thirty minutes shy of the twentieth occurrence

Of the anniversary of my birth, my initial insertion

Into this world we live in and the society that inhabits it

According to the numbers, I’m almost a quarter of the way through the transit

That will take me from my first crib to my death bed

As a matter of fact, with that being said

I look back now and wonder whether I am appreciating enough

Where I am going and where I am from

There is a long way to go before I reach half time

Between now and then, as long as I stay between the lines

That constitute "out of bounds" and "on the right path"

I will be around long enough to have a last laugh

Life is like pro sports, certain things they share ring true

As everyone comes to know, there is no mercy rule

Once in a while, you are going to get beat pretty bad, if not pelted

But if you decide to fold your hand, you satisfy whoever dealt it

As the second half begins, you start running on empty

And begin feeling the oncoming antonym of entry

But as I sit here on the verge of the bewitching hour

My gut feeling about my future has yet to begin to sour

Twenty years down, who knows how many more to go

I just have to pace myself, and soon I will know

Until then, I just need to live it how I like, avoid holding out for perfect

Take every challenge as it comes, and enjoy the next seventy five percent



20 poetry projects

I hope this is what we were supposed to put on here this week...

The air's temperature is a savage beast

In fact, I've heard that it draws blood upon contact with every and any life form's skin

red blood, thick as oil, smelling of brutality and tasting salty as the sea

the sound it makes as it leaks from the body fills the mouth with the taste of vile medicine

Despite the consensus, Santa Claus hates the frigid North Pole, but lives there by default

After all, if he lived in this wonderful weather, he'd be mauled by young and old alike

Speaking of which, now that I think about it, I'm still waiting on that signed Lebron basketball

Then again, I did rip and shred a couple years back when i got that kickass mountain bike

They say; "When you fall off your bike, get up and dust off...and toss it in the scrap heap"

Y'all will never guess what i did with that bike instead

The antsy anxiety of the curiosity is killing y'all, right? Tonight, try to sleep...

Be careful, don't hurt yourself. Then again, it saved the feline in the end

Back to Santa, who is probably snorkeling in Hawaii with a couple of elves

Craigory's kind of jealous. Honestly, he wishes he was there with them

When I get back, Santa and I will be cool, and that ball will get taken off his shelf

And this December will be the ballin'est Christmas that has ever been

I'll be the starting guard on the Heat this season after Wade realizes that I'm better

"C'est la vie!" is what he'll say as he walks off the court and hangs up his jersey and Jordans

"Please, no more" the hoop will say as my shots keep floating down and in like a feather

Everyone will wish they're out in the savage beast that is the air rather than get scored on

As I have said before, I am very persnickety about poetry. I am not a fan of free verse poetry and I'm not ashamed of that. It is very hard for that kind of poetry to hold my interest. In "Blood Dazzler," the majority, if not entirety, of the book is free verse. However, the draw to this book by Patricia Smith isn't only the structure of the works inside, but their themes. The book is inspired by and based around arguably the most destructive and fatal storm in U.S. History: Hurricane Katrina. I remember when the storm hit in August 2005.  I was in Washington D.C. for a family wedding. I remember seeing live shots of the devastation on the national news channels. I remember how unexpected the strength of the storm was. I remember having a deep conflict between the jubilance of the event my family and I were there to celebrate and the concern and sympathy I had for those in New Orleans. However, any sadness or similar feelings I had at that time couldn't, and to this day doesn't, compare to what those people felt who were experiencing it personally. Their homes were being destroyed. Their friends and families were being killed. Their lives were crumbling before them. "Blood Dazzler" will by no means allow us to completely understand those experiences fully, but it will be a start.