a dawodu, no more

inspired by 32 bars of the roots and ms badu

2011-09-08T00:11:00.000-04:00

i found the perfect loop
and was lost in the beat
you went from subway screwface
to turnstile trepidation
but lamentations turned
to shared testaments
as we progressed along pavement
pedestrians played witness
to this bliss
hooked on cool water scents
and looking to rent
uptown
in transit
but planning transitions
walking with something special
while en route to the walk-in special
forget the next chick, friday night i'm checkin my netflix
in queue with sequels
and giving speeches on the prequel
to anyone who will listen
while the dj spin
partial dubstep, we twostep

or what club i went to with my homies...
baby don't worry you know that you got me

night and day (lyrics)

2011-08-30T20:57:00.001-04:00

v.1

Initial attraction brought static

and reactionary postures

Had me claustrophobic in feeling

A release was in queue

She in plain view same day same time

same game same line is how it plays out in my mind

if only I could get my mind into meeting her

on the street corner

we could develop discourse

and entertain engagement

of reoccurring thought and body contact

simple math had one plus her equaling us

forget the token for the bus, miss

we can walk and talk, yes?

v.2

we could map out a future in the coffee shop

with a sidewalk view of passerbys

make sure the moment doesn’t pass us by

get pedestrian with ours, smell flowers

put away the umbrella for rain showers

our forecast could dismiss the overcast

and see the sun thru the rain

see the pleasure thru the pain

see the months and days

but for now

im living the moment and working the

momentum

to take this kinetic and attempt some

energy between us

due process and progress

like night and day

for st.clair west

2011-07-18T23:02:00.000-04:00

to fall in love
while riding westbound
on st. clair
would be to fall
in line
with my past
to reintroduce self
to oakwood and
to rarely venture beyond keele
to negotiate porch space
2 steps below her
but perfectly in line
the art and entertainment
of corso italia passerbys
time well spent
give her up for lent
and fall from love
into temptation
put a motown step
in my walk
she got me practicing
romance in my talk
buidling with baianos
on the block
she'd be thoro but with flare
leave me dedicated
like the right of way
it'd be a nice way
to fall in...

you dont know my name... a coffee shop spit

2011-03-05T15:57:00.002-05:00

even if my faith is as
small as a mustard seed
i believe she'll come
back in that mustard skirt
for a second cup
to build on this first
impression
the world stopped
connectivity lost
mid call and chat convo
record skipping
her red jacket with
the white ribbing
atop the collar
no number to call her
but would settle to kik it with her
3rd party
under grey skies
rocking grey leggings
first glance
left me feelin like greg jennings
post super bowl XLV
i'm not lookin for a ring
but would settle
for an appearance
a chance to unpress the mute
drop the bold and be bold...
give the fam a story
that should be told

ode to the female form on queen west... a quick one

2011-03-04T13:29:00.001-05:00

she keeps on passing me by
fixed gear meets fixed stare
fixated, left deliberating
dating, damage control and
whether cabbage was a bad idea
falafel stand pimpin
boss telling me to "go in"
but thin is the line
between bliss and simpin
simply slow down miss
lets reminiscence on built form
discuss the norms of boy meets girl
common ground touched
lack of seats on the 501am rush
from steve jobs to when we had no jobs
the small graces of underemployment
and whether your secondment
is worth a second mention of us
but we play it by ear
let a path clear while
backstreeting to bellwoods
finding currency in face value
she smiles..

a love story in reverse... or a breakup

2011-02-11T00:00:00.000-05:00

the end
is
the beginning
and solicitation
is the salutation
the night starts with
fresh off a fifth to deal with
this bitter path
of stepping away from a better half
the record skipped
and the cd scratched
soundtrack to love
is now static
remixed with cigarette ash
broken lipstick cases
and pictures where the flash faced us
maced us
like swat tactics
your package i left with reception
including the matching his and hers
how'd we go from his and hers
to "is this hers?" to "it happened on the 3rd?"
"damn... that was my birthday"
but i guess what happens while you were in vegas
comes back to plague us
played love like the numbers
ultimately played ourselves
had us going out of pocket
for expenses in the absence
mother said own your love
don't rent it
as moving out on this downtown view
built for two
but room for none
when the sun rises over the mess made
even the best laid plans
can lie.

roc marciano

2011-01-21T17:09:00.000-05:00

music made for chilly nights on the corner... whether you waiting for the streetcar or the re-up (of your wire dvds).

my boxcutter joint of 2010... remixed..

snow - remix with sean price

new heat for '11 - sounds like it came straight off the cassette

sound travel

of 2010... the best

2011-01-03T23:06:00.000-05:00

songs...

telephone - shad
all i want is you - miguel feat. j. cole
maybach music 3 - rick ross and friends
window seat - erykah badu
i want you - cee-lo
rose garden - shad
up all night - drake
over - drake
i need a dollar - aloe blacc
taxi - mos def

albums...

thank me later - drake...
i'm thanking him now, many a drunken and contemplative night (not neccesarily mutually exclusive) i found myself listening to this album. anyone who can appreciate the failure (or success) of catching the last subway on a friday or saturday night to kipling or the untouchable feeling that two bottles of grey goose will do to you and your crew will understand.
the personification of 'act as if'.

tsol - shad...
tis a great thing to see your friends shine at what they are awesome at.
telephone still makes me smile like he wrote it for me.
yaa i get it makes me rewind and screw my face up.
rose garden makes me pick myself up and try again.

the sea - corrine bailey rae...
i want to hug her.
take her argyle shopping. sip tea street-side with her.
and just observe her from a distance all at the same time.
folk said the first album was way too sugary, this album was straight no chaser, hurt and love lost from the inside looking out. album plays like a story you know the end to, but must finish nonetheless.

girl meets world

2010-12-17T14:02:00.000-05:00

girl meets world

moving too fast

still getting

put on blast

for dirty dishes

battling dirty deeds

one tear at a time

crime pays

so she in line

for unemployment

cheques bounce

like her head nods

to instrumentals

new essential

nutrients

finding solace

in the snare

and benevolence

in the bass

reminiscent of

space and time

lunchroom rhymes

of fellas playing

hook line and sinker

with moves

that would only

sink her

self-wealth but

investments

in real

self-interest

has her out of the red

no more being

smoked out

choked out

looking for a

way out

in the mirror

images are clearer

12 mega-pixels

in the graduation

picture

from hey young girl

to woman

of the world

knowledge is power

so she bats clean-up

always coming home

to the real fan

real man in her life

lil’ man learning

how to clean up

respecting when..

she cleans up

after him

and doesn’t

holla or stare when…

she cleans up

mother not ma

when she steps out

careful not show out

rockin the clutch

in clutch moments

still learning and atoning

all the while growing

world meet girl…

accept her and her terms

word.

guy and madeline on a park bench

2010-12-12T23:49:00.002-05:00

Being a fan of indie flicks is a May - December relationship, armed with not much more than a brief synopsis and a trailer, if that, you often go in on a flick and sometimes come way very disappointed. This past week i caught a flick i had very little to go on, guy and madeline on a park bench. Described as a jazz musical, it caught my eye given my love of jazz and growing love for musicals.

Without going in too deep on the synopsis, first -time director Damien Chazelle creates a jazzy yet sometimes stark and frustrating landscape focused on the boy meets girl, girl falls for boy, boy leaves girl narrative. Title characters Guy, a musician whose first love will always be music, and Madeline, a girl searching for something, anything in life interact with a series of interesting people throughout the film ultimately to meet again in its final scene.

What struck me at times was the director's reliance on the actors to use their facial expressions and solely that - the movie is not heavy on dialogue. While frustrating at times, with sober second thought the realism it conveyed was spot on. The up and down moments of relationships and life in general don't often come accompanied with "coffee is for closer" type speeches. Its the look on your partner's face that is the indicator that you've messed up.

I should have written this when the movie was in town last week, but it may return. If it does, its definitely worth a viewing.

dope scene from guy et madeline

colours...

2010-11-23T00:01:00.000-05:00

white wine
black books
kind of blue
reminiscent of
summer brown
life much like hair
is an exercise of
dealing with greys
chasing
monochrome dreams
to get out
of the red
til then
i'm green
like envy behind the ears
and not in pockets
found lint
instead of her love
thought repair
was a yellow page
mission
but this purple
is all i got left
thinking damn...
orange would have looked good on her

players

2010-11-19T22:03:00.000-05:00

I was at a dilla tribute party last year at a spot deep in queen west and the dj had gone through your "typical" dilla standards and the amazing samples that provided the inspiration. The crew I was with was dropping hints to the dj it was that time, the party was dying down the crowd had filtered and a few loyal supporters were remaining at the bar and a couple tables. dj finally dropped the record, a collective cheer/sigh went up and at that moment, strangers became family, drinks in the air, drunken staggers morphed into rhythmic two-steps, we acknowledged the DJ and stumbled out into the crisp winter night hooded and goosed up… players.

One of my fav things to do is drive or venture on foot or bike around the city while most of it sleeps. Driving slow, as Kanye West once put it, is a practice that meets at the intersection of deep contemplation and casual observation. Driving with no direction down empty lit streets and letting whatever the vibe of the moment be your guide. Players by Slum Village is often the soundtrack for those moments, the subdued, the laid back vibe of nighttime.

We don’t care how or where

we end up there, wherever it may be

no compass or telescope

but finding depth in one word answers

and finding common ground with

exotic dancers

fully clothed

curbside dividing cab fare

stretching a dollar

after stretching for dollars

no discrimination, all colours

lipstick and collars

blue and white speeding thru the red

while we wait for green

posers provide the inspiration

no racing, embracing the slow but steady

save the ready set go for rush hours

There’s power in patience

And patients suffering insomnia

gazing out of window panes

gazing at the caddy in adjacent

lane

gazing at the amazing way

midnight plays the blues

the crew cruises through

smoke stacks and ascends

like wind off the lake

we relate, debate, and laugh it off

drive off solemn in stewardship

players…

two sides of the same coin

2010-11-11T16:33:00.000-05:00

certain parameters given to me in a challenge defined the following piece.
read #1, then read #2, then read #1 and probably read #2 again and see if you can figure out what the challenge was.

#1
regrets? no,
but caresses foolishly friction bore fiction
this crumpled paper laid
on
stages winning award
on
parts played
we
embrace this
delayed departure
colours neutral
stained heart
my death approaching
was she love peronsified?

...

#2
personified love?
she was approaching death
my heart stained neutral colours
departure delayed this embrace
we played parts on award winning stages
on laid paper crumpled this fiction
bore friction foolishly
caresses
but no regrets

untitled.

2010-11-10T02:31:00.000-05:00

words form like mindstates
barely legible and bound by lines
time heals wounds
and practice makes better penmanship during rush hour
in the interim i'm scribbling and sinking deeper into
a system of off-beat rhythms
finding colour in the monochrome
and searching for love amidst the monotone
dialtones hoped for
but similar to HBO i'm wireless
only secure plan in life is data
they say no man is an island but at times
i'm pondering who's ladder
i'm climbing up
soliders of cross double crossing
got the flock and the shepherd
looking lost caught between jacob and jesus
these days its more than the weather
that changes from season to season keeps us
teething
seething
feeding
needing
breeding
believing

burn...

2010-11-07T10:58:00.003-05:00

its the 3rd degree
but no PhD.
looking for a PhD.
while she masters
the mistress
damsel in distress
two tiered
health care
got her
feeling the burn
in pocket
to go with
discomfort
and humidity
worthy of summer time
got that summer shine
lack of melanin
surplus of pain
but nothin some
calamine lotion
and career counseling
cant overcome
student loans
and cell phone
bills
makes that trip
to the salon
a hard one
add to the fact
she can't lean
strapped for cash
and burnt ash
on back
smells like...

slr

2010-11-02T00:28:00.000-04:00

a challenge i've accepted this month is to write and post something new everyday. 30 for 30... and i'm already a day late so i'll be needing to make it up down the line.

there is
a beauty
in bokeh
seeing what’s
necessary
against a shallow
depth of field
that is
until the shallow
depth of field
is solitary
on stage
so light and dark
hues tints and shadows
all exist
away from
best focus
the beginning
of
the slip and loss
of grip
on one's locus
missteps
occur
this is where
starting
to fade
can't be fixed by
potions or lotions
hopeless as the colour
balance is attempted
on soaked coasters
and fallen posters
amid
the creases
and pieces
the
natural
way
to
sepia
is
discovered
mesmerizing are the melancholy
viewing image history
and seeing
how things went from
untouched
to photoshopped
to shopping parts
and hearts
on the open market
left tryin to
viewfind self
stealthily through
turning points
and after thoughts
after much thought
and poignant conversation
preservation was best
left as a task for self
it appears
we are highlighted
by the wealth
of errors crystallized
in the moonlight
its nights like this
where my aperture work
is more miss than hit
and i question how
the composition
went from symphonies
of bliss
to scattered riffs
so I’m learning
to live
through
transition
from the
point and shoot
and smile style
to the intricate
narrative of a
single lens
reflective

of montreal

2010-07-22T23:13:00.002-04:00

you

are the one

who slips away

or rather the

one i slip away

long enough

to get caught up

short enough

to let curiousity

come before

contempt

blend

disjointed discours

and staggered

step

mon ombre

looks cooler

when you're around

not bound by

stoop steps

but child-like

professing love

or at least

engouement

from le boulevard

til we see again

delete

2010-04-19T00:03:00.000-04:00

lack of

control

and no

alternative

options

left us

no choice

token black

man

stretching

a token

as far as it can

in a place like

this

early dismissal

reminscent

of days

long gone

and songs

sung softly

like psalm 119

but with brevity

happy are those

whose way is

perfect

so the sad sit

amidst

drying palettes

and empty canvases

making nothin

with very little

breakin bad

and quoting

riddles with no humour

a reprise

repossesion and removal

control

or the lack of

with no

alternative approval

a restart is neccesary

but something

is missing.

leave it all behind... by the foreign exchange

2010-04-12T19:02:00.004-04:00

it went from track 8 to track 9

quicker than the street corner release

this was live

sadness in dolby digital

from the house of blues

to a house of blue

hues and blue views

on take off

a window seat close

but far from emergency

exits

so its hectic

coming home to you

but knowing a house

of cards

is the weakest foundation

to stand on

while i'm the

last man standing

holding the joker

all in with a bad pokerface

no king and queen meeting here

like roncesvalles to corktown

on the 504

you were something to behold

our stories now grow sordid

i stumble thru streets

off whiskey sours

sweeter than you

it only took a few nights

to need a daykeeper

looseleaf notice

apply within

preferred experience with

valediction

and solo subscription

to issues

troubling

love is all or nothing

here i wave

white flags meant for

de fete

in defeat

with the title track on repeat

pointless but still

i wanna know...

bleeker street

2010-03-08T23:49:00.003-05:00

where no parades were held

no flags were drawn at half-mast

for your first lady

your matriarch

salute only paid in hush tones

carried by the wind

from sherbourne

and wellesley

and along dimmed halls

of fudger house

life stories

told by those

the remnants of a

commonwealth long gone

so bleeker street

where no 21 guns blast

and no live to air in memoriam

broadcast

just a somber stream

of people

entering 55

carrying the wind

to speak softly

and smile

amidst the tears

smiles for a life lived

tears for a shade lost

a tree grew on bleeker

for many seasons

and for this reason

the wind carries

from the south-east

parliament

and regent park

pay their peace

passengers on

the same streetcar

of desire

the 506 passes by

to play

symbolic

much like the day

it fades away

into the night

as a lone figure

stumbles through

cabbagetown

a loyal servant

to the crown

removed

from his days

in the kingdom

weary but wiser

reminiscent of

the houses of aberdeen

ontario

winchester

and rose

they pause

as the wind howls

and blows

a lamp

flickers out

the men on the corner

have finished

their stout

they take muted steps home

as the city lights

shine upon the throne

the queen is dead

long live the queen

changes

2010-02-23T23:42:00.002-05:00

love

a thug

friends

strangers

seasons

reasons

layouts

payouts

stages

webpages

big box poetic... the intro

2010-01-20T19:26:00.003-05:00

2010... old out. new in.

big box poetic is a series of writings i'm working that cover a range of things personal and particular to me whilst interwined with hints of pursuits and passions from my profession and my past... or something like that.

big box poetic
the anti-mixed use plan
with mechanisms equipped for
storage and release of big thoughts
big boxes chase the sun west
a place to rest regroup re-up
retouch a sketch of my soul n heart
photo shopped for promotional purposes
as i shop photos of a previous existence
on the options market
looking for leverage amidst buyers targets
tryin to sell in winter
what i couldn't drop in summer
even tho both seasons be the same
the game told me all season radials
but sold me
static airtime on CB radio
left me assessing checks n balances
but balance hasn't existed
since weight was placed
onto a ship sinking
under the stress of relating
time spent now amounts to something
fading
i'm left contemplating
public consultation
along the avenue
begging for change
but accepting of cash or credit
sometimes i think
just dead it
deal with the debts
in progressive steps
reflect and limit
the waxing poetic
on nostalgic sets
focus on the intersection
and community connects
stage 1 the concept plan
of big box poetic

here

2009-08-04T22:49:00.003-04:00

this is where
midtown meets
paris st. germain
where rain
meets earth
where city
sound and colour
intersect
a disciple
of the call for
changes of scenery
the path to
righteousness
is beset with
evil men
and maybe
just maybe
all i need is
better set design
a recognition
of hue and tints
and
learning how
to find solace in
the shadows
my shadow
its another
late night
and there's no
moonlight to
reflect in
this is where
i say nothing
and let
everything else
speak for me
this is where
i see so much
but begin
come to terms
with what could be
dwindling vision
and declining
hand eye coordination
in need of adjusting
my approach
like jordan did
to get thru detroit
while i get thru
agendaless
mid-afternoons
avoiding thoughts
of the soon after
because soon after
is a chapter written
but not in the
editing stage
held up on a shelf
in between
production
and proclivities
as aforementioned
the absence of
moonlight
to reflect in
leave it to life
to keep class in
session
with patience
and prevailing winds
comes reflection

umi

2009-07-28T13:03:00.002-04:00

old but crisp, like my blue jay fitted. a sense of warmth, like my mood.

if they could
hear what
umi said
I’m sure they
would want to run
in the streets
with me
and the children
and shine light
shine it bright
teach the children
reach the children
so the world could see.

sundays in st. lawrence

2009-07-14T23:20:00.003-04:00

b-side to a
bluenote imprint
as notes blew
through
a soft summer breeze
imprint of hand on hip
and cheek on chin
cheslea, harlem and
st. lawrence
intersect here
warhol said
we all get 15
so let's milk
the next 14
in crooked streetlight
and stained
glass warehouse window
smile for the camera
hold that pose
we can
reprise roles
ciao manhattan
this
is
happenstance
urban chic and
urban cool
pimping the
stay in school
message
in advance
of the
back to school
glossy tabloid
overexposures
and exposed
brick
an elegance
amongst
the simplicity
and the energy
even though
the tank
is stuck on
e.
the agency
says chemistry
should render
a full page spread
a succesful exercise
of alchemy

stretch (the morning)

2009-06-01T21:48:00.000-04:00

smokestacks
and sunlight
set the foundation
for a
warm side
and a reason
to set aside
the alarm
and the day's plans
for a minute or two
longer
signs of a night
well spent
rhythm and blues
to match the hues
of the sky
its time
to make it
happen

once...

the hurt stole
the show
with its
jeykll-hyde
performance
award winning
an encore was worthy

twice...

the warmth and
the levitation
so spiritual
a shaman couldn't
conjure it
with charms
and the like

thrice...

arrival
acceptance
arise.
looks like its gonna be a good day today

mostly him... some of her

2009-05-06T00:13:00.002-04:00

the distance

between

him and her
isn't so much
an issue of space
but moreso
a subscription
to space and time
he gazes away
in her presence
staying silent
slipping away
into another dimension
where they reference
with preference
a place to settle
stainless steel
or black
kettle
for kitchen
a love seat
where love sits
and takes in
the view
over the polis
he thinks of
time well spent
doing nothing
but laying
and letting
desafinado
float
and fall
around
and amongst
them
he reminisces
on smiles
syncopation
serious tones
and slight touches
in hushed moments
as if it had
occured before
but quickly remembers
the distance
between
him and her
is akin to
him going northbound
her south
and stopping
for a moment
if that
distance
is fact
and the rest
is the most beautiful
of fiction
so beautiful
that to pursue
could present
friction
and positions
that could
have him wishing
the distance was
further than
where
his courage
could reach
his stupidity
could stand
and his heart
could lead
a last stand
in no man
and no woman's
land
him and her
etched freshly
in the sand
for the tide
to rinse and wash
while he repeats...

real talk

2009-03-31T13:11:00.000-04:00

why
does
this
jazzmine sullivan - in love with another man
hurt
me so...
going outside to get some air
ready to take the rest of the day off
like it was me
fam...
and
why
must
she
sing it
like
she was helping
those lost
in the
aftermath of katrina
live via satellite
from
ebenezer baptist

brunch is the most important meal of the day...

2009-03-26T01:02:00.002-04:00

cosmopolitan

she is...

i had to sharpen the
street corner posture
upright
like the bass
along the avenue
pen, pad and poet
she could play muse
for this off-beat trio
and form a quartet
success
defined
with the simplest
of smiles
an image
left with me
for miles
upon departure
im sketching in spain
while reminiscing on
the east village
a recording session
one studio short
from intro to
the alternate take
composed on napkin
far from pedestrian
although pedestrian
was the approach
some kind of mocha
in surround sound
and technicolor
a thousand words
couldnt do justice
but then it was just us
your reflection
and my penchant
for description

respect

2009-03-08T15:21:00.000-04:00

the
social commentary
from elders to
welders
unionized
local 304
to mother
asking me to
lock the door
on my way out
and minimize
the noise when
i stay out
and slide in
appreciation
for the pen
and pad
to try maintain
just a little bit
for the guerilla-issue
one-piece khakis
securing me
while i reference
history
amongst stacks
the facts
the fiction
the flow
the diction
the architect
the struggle
the hustle
im slowly learning
what it means to me...

reassure

2009-01-29T00:26:00.001-05:00

hold my hand
as you hold
my heart
as we hold each other
pillars of stability
no
drug lord
or
personal trainer
could motivate
one to
carry this weight
tonnage hit me
deep
so deep that it
left me
searching for
street corners
a foreigner
in my backyard
looking for a familiar face
among self-portraits
the first step
to safety
can sometimes be the
furthest
from solid ground
but one touch
support
that isnt automated
is always
appreciated
no one wants to be on hold
but to be held
is help

rice and peas

2009-01-13T23:05:00.000-05:00

a plate of rice and peas
is well met
with laughter and thanks
amidst the daily grind
and fear of the unknown
rice and peas shown
in front of you
is a welcome repreive
from it all
if only a moment
we sit
we smile
reflect
on sunsets
and contexts
this food
is a catalyst
for negotiation
on how to address
the next plate
and a
chance to disconnect
from
billing dates
interest rates
deadlines
and phonelines
rice and peas
a complete meal
a meal complete
push the seat back
reminisce on that fact
or fiction
from '97
subconsciously
schedule it again
a delicious
daily diversion

2009

2009-01-01T17:27:00.001-05:00

a new day...

throwback sundays...

2008-11-16T16:43:00.001-05:00

Love flow #3 - 02/28/03
I thought
we had levels
felt there was no need to adjust
bass or treble
but cognitive distortion
crossed our llnes of communication
and now i write lines of reminisce
instead of lines of touch and kiss
scenarios
the lone actor on this stage
i miss u
but the us i miss
is the lone reason
i'm writing on this page
manage
my feelings before i get lead astray
i stop pressing play on songs we vibed to
focus on tryin to
define the line
between
wishing and thinking
seeing and squinting
becoming and being
cus i am becoming a being
that's trying to blend back
into midtown traffic
but a broken heart stands out
facing south while my last vision of you was north
searching for a system of support
to compensate for not having yours...
just thought we had levels.

words...

2008-10-22T23:12:00.005-04:00

sometimes i use sometimes alot.

sometimes
words
fall out
but dont
fall into place
they rest at the edge
of something great
only to fall back into creased page
saved for another day
sometimes
when words can't do justice
won't do
justice
its an injustice
to thought and experience
expression is emanicaption
and these words
my words
long for freedom
words for love
words for life
words for thought
sometimes
words rep more than a
page not completed
a memory blurry in its capture
and distorted in its release
words
are metaphors for life
trapped...
released...
flowing...
uncertain...
a reminder of what has been
and what's to come
the melody
appreciated in solitude
the face of a friend
whose been gone
a moment too long.
words are as the psalm
and the song
the calm before the downpour
standing amongst it all
only this time
they fall
in form
sometimes...
word.

breathe.

2008-07-03T00:08:00.002-04:00

inhale...
this is how it begins..
a self portrait in gray
scales
the black and white
accentuates the detail
of life at 2 degrees
and working in retail
where everything that
glitters is fish scale
at increasing rates
and frustration arrives
quicker than the transit
that would have avoided
you being late...
a pace in the paper chase
is hard to set
with debits that look like credits
and credits
that haven't really
shown themselves to be credible
so each day ends with self
saying

self i'll level with you
this rat race 08 thing,
i can see its messing with you
but give thanks and
doze off to this Coltrane
tomorrow we get up
and grind at it again

exhale
and this how it ends…

get

2008-06-24T11:30:00.002-04:00

getting in...
shape
style
right frame of mind
summer

getting out of...
trouble
debt
my dreams

getting through...
rough spots
writer's block
books!
underemployment
the summer

success...

2008-05-09T15:52:00.002-04:00

april was a slow month.
may looks alot better.
school done.
life beginning.
let that bitch breathe...

april fool

2008-04-01T01:01:00.002-04:00

on the edge of an abyss
looking into the unknown
and seeing nothing past
wanting a new cell phone
im an april fool
entering like a lamb
with a yearning for lamb
roaming danforth
through the moonlight
driven for a gyro and sprite
hunger replaced by memories
of streetlights
and silent walks home
scripting compositions of
contemplations
daily confrontations
and situations involving
post convocation locations
and how much i can spare
for vacation
'take me to another place'
with streetfront space
a stoop or some crates
for me and mines
to sit on
while youth run
in streets
singing songs
in the key of ...
im an april fool
and every fool
has their day
and everyone
has something to say
to me
at this stage
of the game
i'm steadily building
a city of salt
on sound
planning principles
far from invincible
a simpleton
with synonyms
april fool

pearl

2008-03-26T23:59:00.002-04:00

a face
a friend
a teammate
a cat from round the way
a face in the crowd
a wingman
a "peace, long time no see"
a memory of a simpler time
a point guard
a person "known"
a part of the fam
a statistic
a tear shed
a moment of disbelief
a call for peace in our streets
a light out too soon
a tree removed
a victim
a reminder
a reality check
a cousin
a son
a brother
a lover
a father
all this
and more...
sadly, he was.

reflections...

2008-02-28T00:47:00.006-05:00

things have been hectic in the last bit.
internally hectic.
i'm slowly coming to terms with some things.
i need to recalibrate a bit,
for what should/could be an important time.

just think

2008-01-24T00:49:00.000-05:00

what if you could just blink yourself away???

for a year, a month, a day, an hour, a minute, a second.

just blink...

and post-blink,
you could return
refocused.
recharged.
renewed.

what would your direction be post-blink...

brickworks....

2008-01-16T00:25:00.000-05:00

i tried to build a house
out of a ton of bricks
but failed
i needed to build a home
cus these bricks
were the formation
of gastric movements
a home
like the one
a child would dread
returning to
where what goes in
cant come out
unless it breaks out.
a home that felt like prison.
an alcatraz for feeling.

a fresh thought... unfinished...

2008-01-03T02:25:00.000-05:00

being fresh is essential...
from the state of dress
to the state of your intentions
and residence
two days into the new year
and two years removed from the day
she left you
on the boulevard
frozen
but still fresh
im on a path to freshness
99 miles away from a 100 mile diet
and moving from previously frozen
areas codes and account modes
to fresher sidewalks
and fresher thoughts
from national wide chain to
street corner market
i got targets...
for where i need to be

fish

2007-12-27T00:13:00.000-05:00

so my method of making money nowadays consisting of cutting, serving, learning fish.
so naturally i end up smelling like fish.
generally, i despise this part of my job.
the smell hangs, ppl relocate away from you on the subway.
my sister comments "i hope you don't ever meet people after work, without showering."

so like any other day i smelled fish, but today the smell of fish briefly took me back to childhood.
venturing with my mom to chinatown and kensington market on saturday for the weekly fish and fabric trips . fish (save for the immaculate saltfish aka salted cod) for me was on par with vegetables, i hated it as a kid, so i hated these trips.

we never had kool-aid or candy trips.
fish then. fish now. go figure.

being here

2007-12-21T12:46:00.000-05:00

its been awhile
since a song has stood out
and stood up so poignantly
to reflect
a state
my state of mind
the song while strong
pales in your absence.

things i will do when finals are over...

2007-12-10T01:23:00.001-05:00

- finish j. jacobs
- start r. ellison & m.e. dyson
- take in "in rainbows" & "the cool" & "jazzmoney"
- take in "no country for old men" & "american gangster" among others...
- write like its the new black
- exhale

a chicago thought... finally

2007-11-02T01:03:00.001-04:00

we held court on halsted
an organized chaos
last call meant the first call
for a new location
a destination
but really just
an extension of the journey
into a sammy davis
state of mind
i smile
as she dances
amongst the streetlights
and we contemplate
how to kiss the skyline
and moonlight
tis a long way to ashland
from here
but time can stand still
a moment of freeze
frame worth
throwing in a picture frame
somewhere down the line
and reminisce on how
this city
like a
love long lost
was once mine

i am...

2007-11-02T00:46:00.000-04:00

too tired to think
too lazy to create
too pissed to progress
too stressed to sigh
dealing with the continual death
of my laptop battery
is the level of my tragedy
thankfully...

flashing lights (in my head and rearview)...

2007-10-25T02:06:00.000-04:00

if somebody woulda told me a month ago
frontin’ on - yo, I wouldn’t want to know
if somebody woulda told me a year ago
it’a gon’ get this difficult...

thoughts on spadina...

2007-09-08T01:30:00.000-04:00

This afternoon i navigated my way through the heat from union station to cbc with an ultimate destination of catching a spadina streetcar northbound. From the corner of john and wellington i believe (where the cbc and metro hall meet up), looking west, one can directly see spadina off in the distance, and more importantly see the streetcars going in both directions. In the 5-10 minutes it took me to get from john to spadina, i saw about 4 streetcars going north.
4 streetcars in 10 minutes is great for transit riders, such frequency means you never have to wait (my observation doesn't account for any streetcars short-turning at King, which at least 2 of 3 spadina streetcars do) but from an efficiency standpoint, at 2pm in the day, 4 streetcars in 10 minutes is a glaring inefficiency, the car i rode in was empty from king until dundas. To be fair by the time it arrived at spadina station there was a reasonable capacity, but the two streetcars that were literally right behind me were for the most part empty.
In a city looking to cut some fat, hopefully the powers to be have put spadina on the new workout plan.

Ironically enough, this is what was on the mind of TTC officials lately.
Thinking ahead is one thing, but i'm not how to file this one.

words for the moment...

2007-08-30T17:12:00.000-04:00

a new black on white
with one black on black
discussions about
kicks and violence
seem commonplace
like common places
i find myself at
stepping back
and forth
with ipod in hand
and dreams of sand
in january
and stability
come april
in trying to make rent
and stay tasteful
in the eyes of my parents
im starting to think
of parenthood
and neighbourhoods
for raising
while i contemplate
black hood
or grey hood
to compliment
with my black on white
and black on blacks
battles of fact and fiction
interest and eviction
and
dedication to the diction

blackstar train...

2007-08-28T08:43:00.000-04:00

what if we could send black kids to Africa on a "birthright" trip?
like jewish kids can...

sure, africa is a continent, with numerous countries and tribes.
i feel that could only work to the benefit. to witness the diversity of black people.
take in the good (and the bad) of locales such as johannesburg, abuja, addis ababa.

it could give the youth some appreciation of their current position, or it could compel them to help change the situation (africa and back home).
at the very least it would give exposure to different environment than they are used to and often cannot get out of.

i would go.

beyond city limits...

2007-08-14T22:54:00.000-04:00

Take me to another place, take me to another land, make me forget all that hurts me, let me understand your plan…

Over the past couple weeks I've had a growing desire to travel, nay, to relocate. This is partly due to continual stream of friends packing their bags and finding new places to call home. But still, before the fad of travel began the in-thing amongst my peoples, the notion of getting out of the GTA, for a period of time, was a prevalent one in my mind. Montreal was the first place in my mind that I was considering post my time at Laurier. A trip to Chicago quickly put that city near the top of my list. My urban planning sensibilities put Africa or South America as places to get some international experience and exposure. Recently, NYC has been garnering some attention, with its fine institutions for graduate study. I love Toronto and have yet to uncover half of its surprises and find myself in perpetual amazement (sometimes confusion) of how this city operates, but I am of the strong belief that my love for Toronto would probably increase if it was place I made a return to. Like the song goes… I think I need a change of scenery.

can we... a reprise.

2007-08-07T14:05:00.000-04:00

can we
go back to yesterday…
and
stand still in time
as we stood still in line
can we be olympians
in competitions
of watch throwing
and cell-phone heaving
two-thirds of a triathlon
where endurance
reigns supreme
see, supreme is that feeling
i get
leading up to
during
and
after
time spent
the one activity I long to be frivolous with
with no accounting
for credit
i give you credit
curriculum based on
chemistry
and the physics of
hand to waist
and head to chest
the best (faculty of) math
we can be.
can we.

current

2007-07-17T13:25:00.000-04:00

its hard to stay current
and not get caught...
caught up in the
daily relay of
he say she say
or staying on pace
with the joneses
and the jetsons
or even the cashflow
so that burberry stetson
can be a possession
its hard
not to get caught
in currents that flow
to the ocean
of emotion and
commotion
they roasting you
when all you want
is a toast to you
but that slice of life
is hard to come by
when friends dont stop by
and you don't call back
or fall flat on blogging
by logging hours
on the boulevard
its soooo hard
to be relevant
and heaven sent
in every moment
current

thinker's traffic

2007-06-18T14:55:00.000-04:00

concrete cousin
to writer's block
where thoughts jam
like rush hour
have me scribblin
and scratchin
sidepacking and drifting
thru
pedestrian movement
my movement
like this ink
is stagnant
both might not
make it to the page
lost amidst physiotherapy
and finding
motivational pastries
baked goods
instead of baked bad
searching for anything
because anything
to get the switch on
is a welcome change of
scenery
examinations of self
seem like foreign exchanges
with no forecast for a change
in the rate of interest
at the intersection
of economic & chemistry
thinker's traffic is the litmus
of supply & demand
of potential
to go from project to prospect
conflict to conquest
steps to investments
in infrastructure
from more
avenues of contact with her
to freeways built for specific destinations...
some respiration from the congestion

coronations & convocations

2007-06-03T23:50:00.000-04:00

i originally hated on his game 5 performance.

poor coaching by Detroit. lack of interior (and perimeter) defense. were among my excuses for basically doing what he did.
but then i took a step back and put down the haterade and actually took in what he did.
29 of his team's last 30, the last 25 points. only player on his team to score in both OTs.

i accept my sentence. unjustful hate.

so on the eve of the most anticipated finals debut EVER.
around the same time when most 22 year olds are walking across the stage getting their paper. the boy who would & could become king, gets his gown ready.

we could be witness to greatness not seen and desperately longed for since the mid 90's.

all that said, spurs in 6.

lemonade

2007-05-25T16:40:00.001-04:00

wheels spinning
with the aftertaste
of rubber
poetry in no motion
is just a poor use of trees
and i've been idling
for more than 3 minutes
180 seconds
but wishing for
180 degrees
from here
crosstown
but midtown traffic
in 30 plus temperatures
has me feeling sticky
and stationary
with my stationery
looking for a park bridge
and a edge to rest on
catch up on my psalms
find growth
in proverbs
find relief
in verb usage
action words
to get me out of
an actionless third
this is the
fourth quarter
where eating rubber is
no longer an option
and one can't slouch
if they believe
in collar poppin

second childhood or...

2007-05-21T16:10:00.000-04:00

things i did 15-20 years ago that i still may do today...

- watch alvin & the chipmunks
- sit in the first car of the subway
- avoid walking over vents downtown
- wearily wonder about the infamous third rail at subway stops
- perk my ears at the sounds of an ice cream truck 'ICE CREAM MAAAANNN!'
- get disoriented at union subway station
- partial aversion to playing cricket (behind the wicket)
- intentionally make myself dizzy upon the completion of ice cream sandwich
- world famous oatmeal cookie ice cream sandwiches.

i left my heart in montreal...

2007-05-16T22:40:00.000-04:00

its funny, only when you visit other places do you realize how good/bad you have it at home.

this entry is dedicated to one bad thing t-dot suffers from(among many according to some). a signature food / dish.

chicago - deep dish pizza
philadelphia - cheese steak sammich
montreal - smoked meat sammich, poutine.

toronto has no real dish to hang their hat on. granted you can be told of great places to get dim sum, sushi, roti, penne, gelato and souvlaki, none of these foods are native or infamous to the 416.

all this is stemmed from the last week i spent in montreal, taste-buds need not rest there. baguettes, poutine, bagels, smoked meat, maple butter. the freshness, the smells, the options. endless and utterly enjoyable.

George Bernard Shaw didn't lie when he said there is no sincerer love than the love of food.

real people

2007-05-10T16:24:00.000-04:00

real people
walk these streets
dodge misstep
and halfstep
from stoop to sidewalk
stairwell to subway
st. joseph to st. denis
and ask for forgiveness
at st. patrick
a foreigner with potential
row houses and residential
state of mind
while away from home
real people dealing with
real congestion
and needs for real protection
still i could really
see myself living here
caught in thought on the metro
from place d'armes to beaubien
politic on a pedestrian tip
and leave a tip for the friendly service
real people

summer of the street

2007-05-02T11:07:00.000-04:00

Yesterday i spent most of the day walking up and down yonge street.
Call me crazy but i think yonge doesn't get spoken about too much when discussing the livelihood of streets in toronto. Sure yonge street has a festival, but i personally think the festival takes away from the essence of the street and to be frank is a lousy attempt at a street festival (see 'the danforth', 'montreal jazz festival' for proof).

College, queen, bloor, dundas, spadina, get alot of press and love from us twenty-somethings.
anything north of bloor is irrelevant, because there is usually a cooler equivalent south of bloor.

But yeah, yesterday, walking yonge street north of bloor, there's alot going on, its a busy street aside from the north - south traffic. Solid range of businesses, buildings of mixed usage (sounds like i'm doing a commercial strips assessment), a good mix of old and new architecture. This ranges from bloor almost up to lawrence. Like i've been told in class time and time again, streets and street scaping are important, they lay the foundation for the vitality of an area. Streets should be more than a mean of travel, they should be a destination, a place to hang out, shop, sit, relax, be seen.

With the Death and Life of Great American Cities and Great Streets on my reading list, this could very well be for me a summer of the street. Stay tuned.

my west toronto

2007-04-25T23:26:00.000-04:00

west of bathurst.south of eglinton.north of college.east of jane.

My early years were bounded by those areas. With no family car or driver in the first 11 years of my life, public transit and walking was the mode of transportation. Some years later public transit and walking are the style again. This time around I have a greater appreciation for the row houses, corner stores that are located on actual corners and not within plazas, streets lined with fruit markets, patios, fabric stores and various other shops. These were my first impressions of commerce, of community, of the city. This isn’t a rant about the end of suburbia, because for all its publicized ills, there are many positives. But this isn’t about suburbia, this is about the area I was bounded, or rather, allowed to grow in.

In my limiting definition its west toronto, my west toronto. A place once referred to as home.

A place that gives me a smile when I’m on a streetcar or a bus and see signs for pistachio gelato or boneless goat roti. A place that make me reminisce when I see kids on bikes, skateboards and on foot darting in and out of back laneways in games of tag. A place that when what starts out as a private conversation becomes a public forum as strolling neighbours stop to listen and engage.

These things are not exclusive to my west toronto, but for me, this is where they began. I learned my earliest lessons in life in west toronto, so it comes as no surprise to me that i find myself revisiting these places and spaces. west of bathurst. south of eglinton. north of college. east of jane. my west toronto.

the sbs...

2007-03-28T23:34:00.000-04:00

numerous hours get spent on youtube watching videos.
specifically hip hop videos that stations i don't watch wouldn't play.
so after months of unofficial searching i'm bestowing a couple of awards.

best outro to a video
the roots - you got me

the beat change at the 3:29 combined with the theme of the video. there's a reason why they got a grammy for this joint.

best video i didn't know there was a video for (best = most amusing)
craig mack - making moves with puff

the historical context and visual comedy of puff and craig mack sharing a screen is best displayed here.

to be continued...

so sometimes...

2007-03-27T23:51:00.000-04:00

immense is the best way to begin
and immense is the only way to end
immensely addicted
immensely in need of rehab
12 step program, stumbling off smirnoff
in a midtown daze
its the midtown days that sting the most
waking up alone and slowing fading
back to black
but in the fade is the beauty
that only me and mr jones
can comprehend
while we attempt to comprehend
how ignorance reigns supreme
and drapes itself in holy cloth
a wolf in sheepskin, cus wool is out of season
and some people are still dreaming
and get caught believing
see, he can only hold her in dream stances
the chance of victory in some unholy war
is like catching the quarter past four home
while stuck in traffic
with a driver who speaks broken english
finished
you know im no good at being on time
or in rhythm
hence why i stopped spitting
and started speaking
started reaching for the
just friends stones
amy said tears dry on their own
assuming they have a place to fall
cus there nothing here
and there's nothing there.
bear with me i lost my pass
so i will have to make change
for the fare
i could walk but right now
its easier to sit and stare
at immense spaces
in immense places

word.

sprawl...

2007-03-26T00:23:00.000-04:00

on the corner they stood looking at their former hood...
threw their spirits in the wind, knew their crib was gone for good.

when you make it up a hill, look back...

2007-03-25T00:53:00.000-04:00

you might be impressed with what you've conquered.

the new 20s

2007-03-12T02:49:00.000-04:00

the new 20s
are
thinkers
dreamers
movers
shakers
heartbreakers
lovemakers
posers
trendsetters
loners
planners
fighters
writers
teachers
preachers
more than just 87 babies...
the new 20s are coming soon.
the new 20s are here.

where i'm at.

2007-03-11T03:29:00.000-04:00

in between disc1 and disc2 of godfather2
transcending daylight savings time,
listening to (on repeat) melancholy amy winehouse on 5 semitones pitch range (that's fast for those not in the know),
being unemployed, unamused and being frustrated at the aforementioned
watching my laptop receive its weekly virus scan
thinking about how canadian sensibilities won out... again.
prepping for the madness of march (and the ncaa's)
and engaging in the following...

creating
wishing
missing
hoping
praying
feeling
sleeping
waking
sleeping
tossing
turning
moving
trying
waiting...

its been a good night...

twilight...

2007-03-08T00:37:00.000-05:00

route 32 lazily drives by...
skyline offset by
upper canada foreground
i
am
looking
at postcards
anonymous in origin
and delivery
in transition
i shift the bottle from
left to right
only to find comfort
in left again
and strain to see
what's left again
a dollar can go
a long way
at this
time
in between
valentine's daze
and summer
blockbusters
this moment
was worthy
of a song
but a harmony
was all
i could muster
slightly off key
slowly
find my way
home
middle of street

life as told by the yonge line...

2007-02-13T19:27:00.000-05:00

born on dundas
schooled at college
fell in love at wellesley
love lost at bloor
a glimpse of hope spotted soutbound
while new light entered from the west
rosedale, summerhill
adrift on moments of bliss
reality set in at st. clair
at davisville
i didnt feel like walkin home
so love did
contemplative i
alone
exit at eglinton

congestion...

2007-01-26T12:19:00.001-05:00

when demands exceeds capacity
resources become scarce
and congestion sets in
it hits like the 515 northbound
and leaves me in dire need of nyquil
can't sleep, sit or stand still
no room to breathe
and nothing to feed on
left with my notebook and some psalms
scriptutes to cope with this mixture of feelings
distilled but with its impurities
congestion has me looking for
structure within structures
reasoning for my reasons
i'm running from silence
on the search for solitude
trying to find it riding shotgun
in midtown cab rides
or on subway platforms
minutes past 5 in the morning
keeping rhythm to marvin
starvin to find what's goin on
the ecology and the chemistry don't lie
things ain't what they used to be
children leave home, prices rise
and leaves fall
in the middle of it all
is me stuck at the junction
tape deck with no forward
or reverse function
congestion...

lost...

2007-01-23T14:21:00.000-05:00

where are you headed??

bolivian boxing...

2007-01-11T00:02:00.000-05:00

straight.raw.uncut.bolivian yayo.
life sometimes needs to be like that.
and sometimes that's how you need
to have things exposed to you.
and those things may not be pretty.
one can only bob and weave for so long.
til you get caught in the chin.
and when that happens...
pray you got a good cutman in your corner.

refresh

2007-01-09T02:16:00.000-05:00

some random cat once said "When you're at the edge of a cliff, sometimes progress is a step backwards."
that being said, i wanted to drop something new up on beyondcitylimits...
but things weren't clicking tonite.
so im stepping back, blowing the dust off off something i revisited recently...
with the hopes of possibly getting it right next time around.

i cheographed seven steps to she
but couldn't score the we
lost the syncopation in breaths
form 4/4 time to 'not this time;
I dream to relapse into thoughts
that laid me to sleep...
but you can't be with me tonight
cus its a fight to forget you
and what this could have been
imagine the spin i could have put
on the poem
lost love, gained
love interrupted, then maintained.
so now we use restraint
cause steps into the name of love
is a name we can't use for this
left choregraphing three steps
into nothingness
with us crossed off the list
with the quickness
contrary to how this developed
feeling from far
and moved in to inspect
a chance to lease love
you didnt know my name and
i didn't know game
so i wasn't playin when i said
diggin you was i
me and you should try
but time flies like opportunity
and one day i can cash
these air miles in for unity
for now i flip the dance chart
back to start

a year is worth alot of pictures...

2006-12-31T18:47:00.000-05:00

photo - blogging my way out of 2006.
some of the more favorite pics i've taken this year.
whoever is out there, stay safe and enjoy.

'94 - 00 big east & A-10 player appreciation day

2006-12-27T13:46:00.000-05:00

thanks to the following for making winter saturdays and marches of my childhood that much more enjoyable.
when the east is in the house! danger!

lawrence moten
jason lawson
john celestsand
pepe sanchez
todd burgan
lari kenter
zendon hamilton
etan thomas
marc jackson
edgar padilla
kerry kittles
victor page
felipe lopez
ricky moore
carmelo travieso
tim thomas
jason hart

the pic. the blurb. the words. there's a connection somewhere.

2006-12-25T02:33:00.000-05:00

cant sleep on christmas morning...
seems like 1989 all over again.
can it be that it was so simple then.

they say its all perspective
but my glass is really
half-full
and i am obeying thirst
for life
from street corner
to secluded park bench
half-full
born hungry
and ready for more
boy meets world
it was an instant connection
match made in heaven
a may - december thing
got me singing in rain
and enjoying the sand
in between my toes
on the move
like a leaf in prevailing winds
lookin at upswing and upsides
hold my place in the buffet line
half - full.

the jumpoff

2006-12-22T01:59:00.000-05:00

summertime as a child for me meant trips to bleeker street. cabbagetown. downtown. a lot of time was spent exploring cabbagetown, st. james town, regent park and certain parts of riverdale.
fast forward 12 - 15 years and i'm back again exploring cabbagetown, regent park, st. jamestown and beyond, this time with urban planning on the mind.
not much has changed, revitalization projects excluded and memories still linger of nicky-nicky nine door and insane games of tags (that would be probably be deemed unsafe by any real authority).
but thanks to a two hour journey today, i touched base with some old spaces and new places. and one step at a time, i saw my past, took in the present and had a glimpse of what could be my future.

wordlife...