he kisses her pretty face

he kisses her pretty face

he kisses her pretty face

as she blushes

realizing maybe this is real love, not a lie

but how does she know?

his kisses are sweetly distracting her

her focus fades

now she is blinded by his love…..

~

©2009 Kai C.

Lift God's Name Higher!!!

inauguration

inauguration

obama is coming
he comes
and he comes

we will cry
we will shout
we will thank God with joy
and now we will pray

chanting, “yes we can”
i said “proud to be a beautiful American”
cos there is hope in my soul
that my country, my people will be fresh and new

with Obama, i have faith
he would change the world
and learn from mistakes and great things
as we join him and his beautiful family

on an inauguration day

“welcome to The White House!
welcome to your new home!”
~
©2009 Kai C

The Ex Files

No offence to you or anything...
I saw you the other day
And I thought to myself
What was I thinking
Really,
what
was
I
thinking...

Or was I?

horus

Horus

Horus,

you are my darker side

of my ancient God

purest blood of Africa

you were from Egypt

where you are in the sky

a star

part of sunset

and i wonder

how far away are you?

multibillion miles, i guess

cos with a bold eye

you symbolizes me

in some way

i see you

my brave king, my knight soldier

i am related to you

same black blood

cos my people came from Africa

as we were brought here

in America

through the chains of cold hearted slavery in 1400s

oh Horus,

you rose up on clouds

walk on sand

i see you grace with long stick sword

ready to fight

but you should not fight

you should make peace

throw your weapons down

and shake hands wth other gods

cos war doesn't solve anything

believe me, it doesn't

you 're a falcon

a free falcon

that made peace with other birds

and you lead them to your own stars

among the clouds

and with your bold eye,

i see you

watching over me

from the moon above

your veins rush through

my light brown skin

while i taste your soul

upon my spoken tongue

bitter and sweet

your voice in the wind

it floats through

my locs

i want to touch your hand

feel your dark skinned complexion

let your tears sprinkle down

to my fingertip

cos

i am your being

you are part of me

my ancient God

your today human

Horus,

my wanderings, my surroundings

not in Eygpt

but in the farther away in the multitrilliion, trillion miles of universes....
~

©2008 Kai C.

Each One, Teach One!

by Christoph J.

I get inspired!/ To lift HIS name higher and higher/ I admire those who get excited for Christ/It's nice to see young people get enticed by the truth/The youth of today tend to jump off the roof/ Or the bridge/ Cuz they see their friends do it/ Seems like there's nothin' to it/ Got friends named NIKE/ JUST DO IT!/ ...Who's it?/ You're it!/ Tag the next youngsta/ Who stands amongst the...crowd/ Have 'em vow to stand for/ More than just what's average/ Tell that young boy that he's "That One"/ Not a Maverick/ Teach him the way/ Don't preach him away!/ Live a life worth following/ Hallowing thy name in the process/ Encourage progress/ Not sex before marriage/ But if the baby carriage comes before the broom has been jumped over/ Tell that boy to be a man and stand/ Not to stand slumped over, Sad/ Mad cuz his Dad wasn't there to teach him/ We have to reach him/ Before the world does/ Because if we don't/ His child won't have a chance.

Watch my Poem Movie!

your fingers on my skin

your fingers on my skin

your fingers on my skin

i felt that

i felt that you're mine

and why?

my heart beats

i blush

asking, thanking

the Lord above

that

i found you..

i found you

deep down

inside a lonely place

where

you needed someone

you needed a piece of heaven

so

you took my hand

just one simple touch

that's all it takes

and

i fell in love

~

©2008 Kai C.

My Destiny

Feel it marinating
growing impatiently inside of me
just....can't....seem to let it go
afraid if its intensity
the beauty it could bring
would bring
should bring
others see it
under my skin I feel it
just below the translucent surface
feverisly brewing an ever present destined reality...

new year's love poem

new year's

and i am falling in love

new year's

and i am missing you

how come, it's only you

you started off taking my breath,

stealing my heart away

this 2009, i wanna be with you

thats my new year's resolution

is to be with my only you

cos i am falling

and falling

but i am scared of a broken heart

i am scared of losing you

my only you

cos i think i have found something real

something beautiful

and i don't wanna lose what we have now

this year 2009

i hope i keep you longer as i could

cos you're so sweet and wonderful

i am very lucky to have you as

my only you..........

~

©2008 Kai C.

Christmas Love

Christmas Love

is it love?
sweet Christmas love?
i only got you
as my extraordinary gift
you have me
in your heart
all this time
we’ve been chasing snow angels
winter romances
chasing after each other
in the heart shape mistletoes
where icy kisses are everywhere in our grasps
you and me
together, we saw a bright star
in bright skies
knowing this is love
our own beautiful Christmas love
and everyday and every night
it’s Christmas love
cos i’m spending my sweetest moments
with you
~
©2008 Kai C.

The Littlest Angel

There are events in life which occur with such resounding force that the shock waves are felt for decades. The ripple effect of these events can be felt by those who where never present or even born when the event occurred. December 14, 1970 is the date of one of those events in my life and that of my family.

Its the day my brother died.

He was 1 month, 26 days old.

Derek was born in mid-October during the brilliance and splendor of Autumn in New England. I remember going to visit my mother and Derek in the hospital the day after he was born. My aunt and I drove over to Saint Margaret's hospital in Dorchester braving a chilly fall rain. As we made our way to the maternity ward we stopped at the gift shop. I begged her to buy a little doll dressed in baby-boy-blue, for my new brother. After what probably seemed like hours of groveling to her, she relented. I can't recall presenting him with my gift, but it became a fixture in his crib, at our home.

A new baby adds spice to a home, sometimes mild and sweet and at other times hot, unbearably hot. My mother was born high strung. If she were in school today she would be diagnosed with ADD, ADHD, PTSD or one of the myriad of other afflictions, abbreviated with letters. The month following Derek's birth was a mish-mash of highs and lows. The tenor of the household mirrored my mother's mood.

I can remember her crying uncontrollably, while smoking at the kitchen table while Derek was lying on the couch, surrounded by pillows.

I can remember sitting with my mother on the front steps of our apartment in Hyde Park. It was a warm Fall day and the trees were shedding their leaves. She allowed me to hold my brother while she watched, tentatively. I remember the smell of crisp fallen leaves while I cradled his tiny head.

I remember my mother and I laughing uncontrollably while I "helped" her change his diaper. He peed all over the two of us.

I remember my father (who was usually no where to be found) and mother fighting loudly, while I rubbed my brothers head while he lay in his crib.

The night of December 13, 1970 was a typical night in my childhood home. My mother downstairs smoking cigarettes and drinking tea. My sisters playing in their room. My brother Mark and I jumping on our beds in our room. Mark and I took Derek out of his crib and put him on my bed. We jumped around him while he lay in the middle. He didn't cry, he just seemed content watching us. We assumed he enjoyed the gentle jostling.

The next few days were a blur.

Who knows what traumas we block out of our minds. If we knew then they wouldn't be blocked, but open for examination. Some memories are best hidden from our consciousness.

I don't remember much about the day my brother died. I recall sadness, grief. I recall standing across the street from my house with the snow lightly falling, telling a schoolmate from my kindergarten class about my brother. I recall my mother promising me that they would bury my gift, the baby-boy-blue doll with him, so he wouldn't be alone. My mother brought me a flower from his funeral. We pressed it in plastic, and put it in an encyclopedia. From then, through my high school years, I would come across it when looking up something beginning with an "S" or a "T" and think of him.

My mother was never the same. From mid-October to December 14th every year until the day she died was torturous. She blamed herself for his death. The morning he died she got him from his crib for his morning feeding. She tried to get him to latch on, but he just wouldn't take her breast. She tried again and noticed that he was cold, motionless. He was gone.

"Crib Death" we were always told. When my mother passed in 1999 we found Derek's death certificate amongst her belongings. Cause of death: acute cardiac failure, emaciation.

Emaciation.

That explained the years of autumnal depression. The years of self loathing and self destruction. I, myself, thought I played a role in his passing. For decades I thought that maybe that night we were jumping on my bed that we hurt him, somehow. It was no ones fault. Our frolicking on the bed had nothing to do with it. My mother gave him everything she had, unfortunately she barely had enough to care for herself. The well had run dry.

Christmas time was always bittersweet. Ghosts of Christmas past were not friendly specters guiding my mother toward redemption, but haunting reminders of inadequacies and failure. Someway, somehow, my mother was able to emotionally detach immediately the day after the anniversary of Derek's death each year and get ready for Christmas. I don't know how she did it, but she was always able to pull off Christmas without her emotions getting in the way of our enjoyment of the holiday. As the years went by her grief became more and more transparent until it got to the point where she was paralyzed by her loss and unable to find any joy in the season

The year Derek died and for many years following, there was a Christmas special on TV titled "The Littlest Angel". It was the story about a boy (played by Johnny Whitaker, Jodie on "Family Affair") who dies and goes to Heaven, but is allowed to go back to earth to get his cherished treasure box, so he may give it as a gift to the Christ child on Christmas. Each Christmas I imagined that Derek was the "littlest angel" and gave his favorite toy, his doll dressed in baby-boy-blue, to baby Jesus.

In August of 1999, when I received the news of my mother's death my thoughts immediately turned to Derek.

I imagined him welcoming my mother into heaven.

I imagined her sense of relief when he forgave her for not having enough to give.

I was comforted by the thought of them being together again.

Sweet Somethings...I believe I am blushing :)

You ask why I like you so much
You can't understand it but it's true
I like you because of your chocolate brown skin
and the way that I feel when I look at you
Your zest for life and all that it contains
Your willingness to make me happy thru the joy and the pain
I like you because you give me showers and gently wash my feet
The fact that I see you smile simply because I am smiling
I ask why are you so nice and you say you don't know how else to be
I think as I look your eyes and I can't believe it's true
After all of this time, I have finally fallen in love with you

~mysTery