At A Loss

“I’m sorry. I’m at a loss for words.”

I have some advice for you. If in someway you allow the aforementioned phrase to seep out of your mouth in a moment of mental confinement, will you do all six of us in the real world a huge favor, and shut the fuck up?

Walk away from whatever podium, camera, microphone or reporter you’re standing in front of, and find something else to do with your idle mind. Preserve for us the precious few seconds you’re wasting so we can do something better with them than listen to you think of something to say after you have just told us you have nothing else to say.

Fuck a figure of speech, it’s a bad cliché. Can you possibly think of how it makes us feel to know we are wasting away listening to you think? If I added up the time I’ve waited for someone to say something profound after excusing that phrase from their person, then subtracted that figure from my age of 27, I would be, I don't know, 8.

This is not a gross exaggeration.

The first time I heard someone utter this phrase, I was in the second grade, and too young to recognize figures of speech. I took all things literally. If my mother said, “I’m going to whoop your ass when we get home,” I didn't laugh it off because she would follow through.

So when someone dare say “I’m at a loss for words,” I expected them to not say anything else. But, to my surprise, no one stops talking. They take it as an opportunity to soak up as much undeserved attention as possible.

“I… just don’t know what to say …. I just want to let you know that accomplishing this was just really, really hard, and it took a lot of effort.”

Really? It took effort to form that simplistic ass sentence and purse your lips to release it? Would you please …

… I don’t know … I’m frustrated … I’m walking away now because I’m at a loss for words.

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I Am A Realist

I am a realist,
I mean idealistically speaking,
I peak while reaching for the stars
From afar knowing my arms don’t extend that far.
So I just gaze, and crave that energy.
You know, try to synergize
That which I am with what lies in the sky
As I live my dream
To set aglow the ever-burning flame penned within me.
Realist I am, I promise you.
Not worried about whether behind my name there’s a comma or two,
Because dollars don’t define what I’ve found within.
Although sin slithers around, I’m still confound to the truth
That resounds in crevasses of a soul.
Behold, a reflection is a window leading to the scroll.
And if you can’t read: Him ... well,
I don’t know what to tell you.
Put your contacts in, get some Lasic,
Look harder than you are
Because a mirror image should never fail you.
I mean, I know the mistakes I make
Don’t you?
So why is that we reach for the sky at a time
When the lines aren’t blurred,
Absurd it seems,
There’s right and wrong
And little in between.
Realist I am, it’s what I scream
Metaphorically,
You might have to prescribe me a John 3:16 antihistamine
To keep me from loving the way my heart was written to.
See, the scroll has one word on it, and a bunch of synonyms
And you can’t pick one out from the others like a yellow M&M.
They all led back to the same root, despite their different hues
And though some throw stones and falsely accuse
The Realist still stand out with his idealistic fuse
Lit and ready to be excused from your presence
See, I was destined to be a star, born to reach the heavens
So as I aim for them, and hold Him in highest reverence
You can laugh or do as I do, whatever happens to be your preference
But I know severance from this shell leads to the well
Of life the replaces the pain and strife of this world,
And I want my cup to runneth over.
Pierce my blood with His because of it
I want mine to be anything but sober
If you want, you can depend on luck
Keep searching this earth for a four-leaved clover
But me, I’m a realist,
Idealistically speaking, until my days here are long over.

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Chipping Away

From Duffle Bag Boy: "I'm am on my shit, need a pamper on me." Friday night's experience has me on my game.

When God said “find yourself in a reflection”
Chipping away at your nose isn’t exactly what He meant.
See, so many are caught up in physical perception.
True perfection we’ve chosen to reject.
Found themselves in the in shelves
And aisles of the cosmetic surgery to beguile
A soul that lacks real depth.
Accept, their reality they will not.
So instead they trot into the surgeon’s chair.
Some, like I, prefer to call it the entrance to Pharoah’s lair.
Better known as the Sphinx.
You don’t want to make the connection
Well let me send you the link.
www.yournosedefinesyourface.com
Tells a story of your history, your race, a place
From whence some of your ancestors came
And see the Greeks chipped away at the memories of Giza
So you wouldn’t know your true name.
Trying to displace Egypt from Africa in our history books
But all you’ve gotta do is give Egyptians a single look.
Crazy, what you appear to be doing seems to be the same.
Carving out of your history book this unique piece of you,
To please the callings of a people of a different hue.
Makes me wonder when it was that we all went off cue.
The white man desiring full lips,
and the black woman wanting to chip …
maybe it was when we started to mix seeds,
Can’t say that totally bothers me.
Because real love knows only one face,
It lacks race in case you didn’t know,
It stares back you, no matter how wide or thin your nose.
So I’m left to wonder why some chose to go
The route of reworking the clay that God made … for you,
No, I can’t judge you for the things you chose to do.
But I will pray that you find the will to hold on to that not-so-distant memory.
Instead of sanding away your ancestors’ DNA
As if it were a nail filed down by a board of emery.

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Strength in Numbers

There used to be strength in strength
Which meant it was strength in power
The man would take the animal,
And with his arms and intellect he devoured her
Command dominion over all the seas
Pluck most birds from every tree.
Cage them and clip their wings.
Prevent her from chirping the song she’d sing
Now, though, there’s strength in numbers
Which means there’s strength in money
And you have very little control,
If you’re a bee who happens to lack honey,
Funny, that’s not how it was meant to be,
But one day currency fell from a tree.
In the form of forbidden fruit,
You could take a bite, not even to the root
And it became your yearning,
In place of simply learning,
Life’s most relevant truths,
Most people just chase green leave...
Their families at a moment’s notice
Overwork themselves,
Just to fill a company’s quota.
Sellout their souls for dead presidents.
Losing control of what was forever meant.
It’s hard to find a mind in mint condition.
When we’ve reconditioned them to not matter.
Capitalism has splattered matters of conviction
As though it were cake batter.
And few seem to care so long as
As their pockets are getting fatter.
Wu Tang said it best, Cash rules,
but everyone around me seems like fools, gold,
because they forgotten the golden rule:
You can’t take it with you.
Your soul is the only thing that goes,
The rest just folds,
As though it were an offsuit 7-deuce.
Play that hand and you’re guaranteed to lose
More often than not.
So why is it that most don’t care
To read into that plot?
They play every hand
Because it gives them a chance
But they don’t understand
The real currency is whittling away
With little chance of another advance
On mental strength, our truth is beginning to decay
In the same way,
The Ice Age came
And froze some of our roots.
Except this time it’s our minds,
That seem to be missing the cue.

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My Words

I want my words to dutifully pirouette while encompassed about by a chorus of doubters which has only but a seed of hope within it.

I want my words to thoroughly invigorate the sound system that resides on the outside of your pupils understanding they’re the only way to truly reach your soul.

I want my words to resonate in the depths of man’s heart to where it skips a beat or three at the thought of freedom’s cost.

I want my words to teach a lesson that can’t be learned from a chalkboard, overhead or in Power Point presentation because life is our best classroom.

I want my words to breathe an air into your lungs so foreign that when you exhale you’re gasping for their breed of oxygenation.

I want my words to satiate the insatiable, infuriate the capable so they will learn some have been enabled by a source which contends their existence is for naught.

I want my words to stir you up like a stew brewing on a stove patiently waiting with little else to do aside from contemplate these truths:

Life is giving. Giving is love. Love is hard. Hard makes jealousy. Jealousy breeds hate. Hate is easy. Easy is fear. Fear is debilitating. Debilitating is death. Death is inevitable.

But like a rumor mill, inevitability doesn’t have to be your life’s plight.

Give what you know. Know what you have. Have what you mean. Mean what you sow.

Because sowing a seed of contempt is akin to knocking on death’s door before you’ve been called. So many reach to answer the phone and it hasn’t even rung. When it does though, for you, I hope the meaning of my words equate to your life’s sum.

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Revisiting the Resolutions

I've gotta get away from politics again. Sorry. I'll get back at the self-made black problem answers tomorrow. Today, though, let's go somewhere else.

Let's look back at my New Year's Resolutions. I figure that since I blogged about them, the best way to keep them up is check on them at the end of each month. So, that's what I'm gonna do.

1. Find a new job. I'm currently waiting on a second interview for a good-paying gig that I know I'll enjoy. When (If) I get it, you'll be the first to know, aside from the Moms. Oh, I also got the applications that I've been working on for over a month done finally. Yes, I job application one actually must put some thought into, walk away from and then come back. Imagine that. I hope I get an interview for the position.



2. Be a better friend to my good friends. I've talked to most of them. Reconnect with about four that I hadn't talked to in a few months. Went out to dinner with a few.

3. Get to 199. still got about 20 lbs to go. I've gotta start working out consistently.

4. Write three poems a week. I'm gonna scale this back to two. This one is hard because I have to have inspiration to go there, and be in front of computer (my memory sucks).

5. Finish, perfect, then actively shop my screenplay. So this is a work in progress. But I came up with the PERFECT re-scripted ending. It's floating in my mind, I just have to put it on that wax. Also, I need to refine a few scenes and then edit the entire thing. Then I can start shopping it.

6. Completely remove the word Nigga from my vocab, and get off the sailboat. Umm, I've censored myself about 90 percent of the time, which is good for me. I'm weening myself off as though these negative words were squares. Slowly but surely.

7. Read a book a month. I'm about to finish Souled Out. It's an interesting read. Not as good as I would have liked though. Not solution-oriented for the problems it presents. But it's definitely thought provoking.

8. Less TV. It's off now. But I wonder what's gonna happen when the good television starts back up? (Girlfriends and The Game, specifically).

That's one month, and I guess I'm doing okay. The top three are the most important right now, and I'm making some progress.

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The Sound

I know. I've been ghost.

But know I'm returning to the www, and the real world. Sorry for my abscence. Here's a little something I wrote this week ...

The Sound

This may or may not sound true,
but if you compound the sound
and what you don’t see
with what it is you believe,
you will begin to achieve
on a level you never conceived.

See, your mind is prime real estate
that will depreciate
if you don’t appreciate its true value.
Your soul is controlled
by something you couldn’t fathom
in a far-fetched dream.
And your body is a temple
Jesus himself worshiped in
with sin slithering around
his most trusted friends.

Confident men are blindly omniscient
with 20/20 foresight.
Now, in hindsight,
I wish my mother had
gouged out my pupils at birth
so I wouldn’t have been cursed
with the vision to see my destiny.
I would have rather been lost
in the pit of wilderness
with wolves dressed like sheep,
and sheep sheared to clothe fools,
handed worn-down tools
to construct my castle
and had it blown away with the wind,
so I could find the will to build it again
without questioning “why me?”
and then I’d come to understand
what I was born to see.

See, most of us dream big, and fall short.
But I want to dream bigger,
and fall in cherished beliefs of what will be
instead of being handed a silver spoon.
Let me eat with my hands, bathe with them too.
Believe without seeing, find faith in what His works can do.
Break me down, so I can be found,
Then make me whole, mind body and soul
Guide me out of the dark forest,
gleefully singing the chorus
of a song that rings true,
a sound found deep within a one’s core
few come to hear it,
Verbs and nouns others choose to ignore.
But not I, I comprehend that which suspends time
Is nothing you could ever see.
It’s something you hear in your heart,
something you choose to believe.

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Complex

Going through a little battle right now. And this is normally what happens in said situation.

Complex
At a depth where
It isn’t safe for minnows
Willow trees don’t blow and snow
Goes in the opposite direction of the wind
Weird? I know.
But I had to let go,
And sail on the current of sanity
A calamity? Not quite
Insanity? Maybe, right
It may be right to walk away
But it feels wrong,
Like a song about love lost
in a major key
Wish there was a way to smile
Through this debris
Yet all I see are stones
Thrown from vanity
Who does that to a friend they call best?
Who fires aimless rounds at a friend’s open chest?
Knowing no vest can veil a failed friend,
Who’s let to wonder if sanity will come again.
In the form of that friend,
Or come to understand
That person was nothing more than a minnow
That never learned to swim.

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True Story ... For Some

On Second Thought

A beautiful smile,
Fractured by a fraction of a second’s second thought
Took my clip, aimed for her upper lip
And verbally started to whip her with my pistol
Gripped the pump, and wouldn’t let go.
This picture was clear as crystal,
There were words of mine she needed to know,
Sores in my heart I needed to sow,
So I reaped,
Opened up my book of meditations,
Started the process of edification
Because trying to conjugate her words
Was impossible without libation
From the pool of my heart,
See, without it, I’d be jumping out of hedges
Restrained by orders
From a judge who judged
Not my rationale, but in rations
He wouldn’t see my hurt, just my passion,
Or would it be rage?
Just glad I got through that phase
Unscathed, but not unblemished
See I left other situations unfinished
But not this one
This one had me caught up like Usher
Without a rubber,
Thank God it didn’t burn
Still I shoulda known better than to lay with her
Without protective cover
A tough lesson I had to learn
Excuses are foolish tools,
But I tell you,
she impregnated my mind,
And mine didn’t matter over hers
Said she’d chose a route that cost $315
Instead of the commitment we’d incur
And I just blankly stared at her,
It should have said it enough
Couldn’t believe she’d willing kill a piece of me,
That’s when I really wanted to erupt
She said she didn’t wanna make a mistake
I told her that’s what the majority of us were
And to take
the life of our child … we’d be the ones to suffer
Yet, she wouldn’t permit me suffrage
Although crowing for my jimmy
Pushed us to this edge.
Still couldn’t convince her
Of a potential life long pledge.
The thought put a hole in her mind
Like Mike in the Wiz
in one ear and out the other
When I said I’d
Even pick up another gig.
So off to the clinic she sped,
And I refused to give chase.
The battle was beyond me,
Shit, I couldn’t win even had I laced
My words around the feet of the Most High
So I fell to mine, and began to cry
Because I knew not what else to do.
I could pray for a miracle
But my spiritual seemed satirical
Because the empirical plan
Seemed to be slipping away with every second
And my second thought had me reflecting
Back on my back, and my decision to lay her
Shoulda been trying to save her
While savoring the moments of love’s simplicity
Instead of simply maming her insides
Are beaming with me inside
And there’s little I can do
Besides realizes
How much of a blessing
A seed really is
And how I should only spread mine
When the plan isn’t maming the kid.

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Buildings

This world is fucked up like Tyson is
We’ve tattooed its face
Disgraced what its maker’s created
Burnt it down like Rison’s
Home can’t be found
Because my heart is a part
From the depth of my sound
Resounding in corners
Where coroners
Are cornering
The cause of the effects
In our streets,
buildings keep rising
Condo owners are advertising
Our streets, they poltergeising
And I’m surmising
That they’re building these buildings
On the backs of our cause, B
Cause we let’em
Heartbeats momentarily pause, Regretting
them mishaps from yesteryear
Sure, Yesterday’s near,
But when your soul’s in the proper place
Tomorrow’s in the clear
Everclear of what Reagan and Bush did
Don’t worry, they’ll be crackin like a snitch
Before Jehovah and his kid
The first will be last,
And they’ll have to follow our lead
We’ll watch their monuments fall
On this we can’t agree.
To disagree that the egregious aggressions
Of those men could be colorblind blessings
Lessons for us to learn from
Oppression for us to yearn from
Professions for us to churn from
See I’m professing
That we stop regressing
And start suppressing
These pressing issues
And begin to issue anew agenda
Stop making babies like Brenda
Quit fighting over spoiled milk
This is the referenda
Because our body could be good
Together,
We could up-end,
What they ended up screwing
I know the message been brewing
But eschewing this issue any longer
Will prevent our sons from accruing
What’s been in store
For scores upon scores
Yeah, we deserve and want more
But we’ve gotta work together
To make it better
so scores in store
won’t have to implore
the same broken record that’s been ignored
for so long
Before we say so long
Let’s make this promise lifelong
to teach each other
to reach each other
to feed each other
to build each other
before they tear us down, too.

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We’ll Never Be … (Just Friends)

The truth was a subtitle scribed
in a pen filled with ink of sin
It was two words: just friends.
Though we pretend that’s all we can be
Behind this veil we call reality,
I can tell there’s more than this fallacy
But we continue to feed each other
That’s why we’ll never be …
Just Friends

Next of kin is what I feel when I’m with you
Can’t pretend there’s not a fire and we’re both moths
Addicted to an ever-burning flame,
Still claiming we could never be more than friends.
Yet and still, we’re back at it.
And you’re telling me that I can have it,
Any way I want it.
But today, I don’t want it.
Yet there’s no way to stop me
From getting on it
Because it’s already enveloped me
Like a postmarked love letter
Sealed with a forbidden bit of bliss
And once our lips meet, there’s no turning back
From what we came to get.
You reach your high,
And I come, too.
Then we start to reminisce about the good ole days
Like only lovers would do.

Now I start to think, but not aloud
Surely there’s more to offer than just this,
Fuck friends, because we’re fucking friends
And when friends fuck, they can’t be fucking friends.
So I guess we’ll never be … just friends.
So what are we supposed to be?
Maybe we aren’t to be
Wonder what you’d say if these thoughts came out of me
So I found my pen, and made love to a letter entitled:
We’ll Never Be …
Free unless we truly express what we feel,
And stop concealing what we need to reveal to ourselves

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Amass a grave

A mass grave for 33
Dug by a man whose soul couldn’t be saved
By a conclave of priests
Besieged about by 27,000 angels.
From a distance we try finding
A new angle and reasoning from these news providers
Who often do little but divide us,
But on this issue they can’t.
You see, death preceded ignorance
Equals mass murder and that’s
Something we shouldn’t accept
So we tune in to our tubes like vegetation receiving nourishment from the ground,
And all we see is chaos surround a more chaotic mess
And still no reason.
No rationale for why a man would want to take so many lives and then his own,
A genuine situation where hindsight is really 20/400.
So we type in a few more dotcoms,
And still no understanding as to why except a Psalm,
That says: lean not.
So, instead we pray
And hope that our prayers our felt
Hundreds of miles away
Where the hysteria first began
And will reside for countless days.
No, we can’t touch you
But we grieve with you just the same.
We, too, turn our heads toward the sky.
Repeatedly asking why?
“Why, did this have to go this way?”
Why can’t we just amass a grave
for all of the hatred in this world
and bury it with the ignorance from which it is dispensed?
Of when that day will come,
I'm surely not convinced.

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An Afterthought

An Afterthought
by Damon Smith

If beauty is fleeting
why are you still here?
lurking around these parts
which you once held so dear

Are you confused?
unable to differentiate want from need
Is it just a rouse?
and that's why you're tiptoeing around ... that which used to be
is now an afterthought
trapped within the failed promise of our yesterdays.
Tomorrows' sorrow now knows a depth so shallow
In it, minnows couldn't swim
No, it didn't happen on a whim

But rather over time
I realized I did overtime for naught
Lived for your works, but didn't get time and a half
Instead, I got caught
Up in some shit a goat wouldn't eat
Yet, time and again, you goaded me into the belief
of what you thought should be.

Now just a thought in the afterlife
A dream dried up and deferred
Absurd, to you it may seem
I concur, you're still caught up in the dream
all the while, that fancy had already passed.
After the thought of that which will truly lasts.

Now in my old age, I laugh when I see you
in place of all the tears I never cried
I will no longer attempt to deceive you
You see, from myself I can no longer hide.
Pride had to fall by the wayside, and subside.

And for once, the mirror reflected a truth,
One foreign even to my eyes,
Something I wished I'd known in my youth:
Beauty is a thought chased after by a lie.
And, at last, you are no longer my shadow.

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From A Long Time Ago

I wrote this five years ago in a journal, today.

Hear I am, trapped within this maze that we call life. I'm supposed to feel like I'm on top of the world, but I feel more like the gerbil on a wheel living each day as though it were the one before.

There's no escape from this madness, just a pillow to lay my head on and shut my eyes and my mind off from the ignorance of days past. And each morning I wake, I mourn for that which I've lost the day before. The hours. The thoughts. The friends. The enemies.

All I want is to wake and feel relief instead of pain. I want to look in the mirror as though it were a window to my soul and see joy as though I'd never seen it before. Instead, all I see is doubt circled about by fear and resentment, and wonder if the next day will bring about something new. I guess that's why I keep going to sleep, and more importantly why I keep waking up, in hope of something new.

You see, amid my displeasures there is hope. There's a ray of sunshine that speckles even on my darkest day. I know that the day will come when I'm set free from my captivity, and I will roam where I wish to roam, when I'm ready. I'll look toward my reflection, and my heart will smile a thousand times over. I'll fall to sleep without discomfort, and rise in the morning and know without looking that the joy I've rummaged for on my insides will beam on my exterior.

That's the day I will know love. That's the day I will live and walk with love and, nothing but, love in mind.

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My Favorite Poem ...

This is my favorite poem that I wrote back in the day. It's from 2001, I think. I can't quite tell you what it's about. I just thought the words kind of flowed out, and it worked. I thought it was about finding a peaceful state, but then somebody told me the thought it was about suicide. Take your pick.

Solace

Solace
Why are you so elusive?
Running from me as though
You have something to hide
Stop your cowardice acts
And prove worthy of your pride
Solace
Why is it that I’ll need you so
One minute I’m asking for your touch
The next I’m pleading for you not to go
I see you, I feel you
I sense you, I know you
But not like you know me
You know when I want
And rightfully garner
the yearning of your seed
Solace
Immerse the worse and the worst
Take the harden heart of mine
Dissolute what shouldn’t be
Rummage until fidelity you find
And everything amiss is no more
I seek no more
Because no more is no longer elusive
No more is peace of mind
No more is solace.

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My Christmas Ode to Riley Freeman

Santa missed the memo
Skipped right over the ghetto
Saw him in the ‘burbs at the mall
Snapping pics with rich kids and dogs
Dude, you violated the Clause
I didn't even get no new draws.
Trust me Claus, before you go
“You gon’ pay what you owe.”
And oh, before I pull this trigga
“Dear Santa you still a bitch ass ….”

And see, changing the word trigga doesn't change the meaning. You still know what it is. lol. Anyways Merry Christmas! Holla at cha boi!

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The Truth

Tell me what you think?

The Truth

The truth doesn't rhyme, but reasons.
The truth is honest, hurtful and beautiful at the same time.
The truth is dropping names like Hiroshima and Nagasaki as though human beings never lived there.
The truth is invading Iraq with the only weapon of mass destruction sitting in the Oval Office overusing the word resolve.
The truth knows where Osama bin Laden is.
The truth knows real democracy isn’t spread by desire for oil or by force, instead by choice.
The truth is taking care of home, er, New Orleans, before attending to matters abroad.
The truth has no party affiliation.
The truth sits down for what it believes in on Capitol Hill.

The truth knows history repeats itself.
The truth knows history repeats itself.

The truth stares back at you in the mirror as long as you’re looking for it.
The truth is right underneath your nose and you can’t smell it.
The truth understands that an “eye for an eye” is a policy only blind people use.
The truth knows 15 cents doesn’t equal a dollar except on a hustle.
The truth knows that fairy tales are just that, lies.
The truth knows education is ignorance without common sense.
The truth knows that the fastest way to a destination is a straight line.
The truth also knows that straight lines are impossible except when traced with a ruler.

The truth knows no duplication.
The truth knows no duplication.

The truth is Mike Jordan in the Fourth Quarter or Shaq within two feet or Joe Montana and Jerry Rice with less than two minutes at their own 20.
The truth knows if Barry Bonds took steroids.
The truth knows that Bud Selig and friends (including GWB) are the real villains in the steroids scandal.
The truth is a father coming straight home after work to play catch with his son.
The truth knows who the baby’s father is and Maury is unnecessary.
The truth isn't "working late."
The truth is being a black man and living past 25 to see your children grow and teach them how to be adults.

The truth knows that children repeat what their parents do.
The truth knows that children repeat what their parents do.

The truth eats dinner at a table for 12, plus one traitor.
The truth is a church building fund actually erecting a building of substance.
The truth believes Moses parted a Red Sea.
The truth knows who brought cocaine and crack to MLK Blvd., and parted the black community.
The truth knows who shot Ronald Reagan, and at times (depending on the day), wonders what America would be like if he had better aim.
The truth knows that guns don’t kill people.
People do.The truth knows city schools are set up in an inferior structure, but the brightest and most resilient people in the world make it out.
The truth knows black doesn’t equal white, not even in dreams.
The truth knows black isn’t less or greater than white, not even in dreams.
The truth understands that there is one truth.
The truth forgives those who trespass against it, but it still leads you in a righteous direction.
The truth said the first shall be last.
The truth said the last shall be first.
So if the truth isn’t first in your book, the truth is you’ll be last in His.

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Remember 86

okay, so I don't feel like writing right now. So I'm meeting you halfway. Here's something I wrote not that long ago about days long ago ...

Remember 86
Written by DAMON SMITH

Six years old, yeah I was still a shorty
But at recess, nobody dominated the court like me
All the girlies in my small world,
They loved my head’s every curl
In the classroom, my grades were trump tight
Forget moms, for me, I was doing things right
I didn’t care what anybody thought
My soul being bought,
Never in my mind, that thought crossed
I recall it like yesterday
Longing for days like that, I pray
Before I fall asleep
I wake to this reality
Trying to trump this fallacy
Wishing these memories I could keep …
Throughout the day

Remember 86
A feeling just like this
Wishing you could do more than reminisce
Days like that were meant for Heaven’s bliss

Do you Remember 86
Those days, I really miss
No worries, No real cares
Just real love filling the atmosphere

He-Man and G.I. Joe’s, were my heroes
Transformers and Voltron, toys I loved to control
Never thought those things could get old
But another promise lay ahead
Even with the strife, loving with a purpose,
Knowing the lessons taught, can be all-purpose,
But only if you attempt to get off the surface
Will you ever learn to break bread
I remember it like yesterday
Longing for days like that, I pray
Each day I wake in the morn
Sometimes, I wish I could go back
With no worries, there was nothing I lacked
I can’t, but the memory, I’ll adorn
Throughout the day…

Remember 86
I know I’d never forget
Wishing you could do more than reminisce
Days like that were meant for Heaven’s bliss

Do you Remember 86
Those days, I really miss
No worries, No real cares
Just real love filling the atmosphere

(Bridge)
Michael hadn’t come into his own
The other Michael had already claimed his throne
Moms wouldn’t even let me talk on the phone
You couldn’t sand the thoughts away with emery
The squad had just won the series
Doogie Howser was preparing to get his M.D.
There’s no other place I’d rather be
Than trapped inside those memories

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I Vow To You ...

I promised you the best of what I've written. No bragging, but this is it. I hope you enjoy ... I think I'm actually going to buy a keyboard tonight.

I Vow To You
Written by DAMON SMITH © 2006

On this day, I pray that you
will cherish me for who I am
Forever more
I can't believe this is happening
You chose me to be your lamb
And It's you I adore
Now, grace us with your smile
Take your time and slowly walk that aisle
I can't wait until you're headed this way
So I can lift up your vail
Love, He told me we can't fail
So there are a few things I must say

(Chorus)
I'll love you the way, He loved the church
For with you, I know I've had a rebirth
Now over, is that lengthy but worthwhile search
I thank you for this moment of clarity
With my deepest gratitude and sincerity,
I vow to you my most excellent charity
My life, I lay it on the line
Believing in you through the test of time
Joy I will never cease to bring
I vow to you these things

Love, there's no reason to get nervous
What we're doing here today has its purpose
Just relax, and live in this love
Telling me what's on your heart
You know from you I could never part
It's you I place no one above
That smile I love is on your face
Your words are full of eternal grace
I'm glad you are here to stay
Now open up your soul
Go ahead, give me control
But first, there are a few things I must say

(Chorus)
I'll love you the way, He loved the church
For with you, I know I've had a rebirth
Now over, is that lengthy but worthwhile search
I thank you for this moment of clarity
With my deepest gratitude and sincerity,
I vow to you my most excellent charity
My life, I lay it on the line
Believing in you through the test of time
Joy to you I will always bring
I vow to you these things

(Hook)
I'll be patient
I'll be kind
Cherishing you
til the end of time
I will bear all things, I'll believe all things
I will hope all things, I'll endure all things
I've put away my childish being
So joy, to you, I will always bring
I believe you can already tell
In this love we have, we will not fail

Chorus to fade ...

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"Well, I Guess I've Got My Swagger Back"

So for some odd reason, the song writing didn't stop for a while last night. In all, I wrote eight songs between last night and this morning about a variety of topics dealing with love - watching old movies, wedding vows, the certainty of the one, pain caused by those we love most, etc.

This is some sort of epiphany, I know. I've been waiting for this for a while, and I think I know why it's come now. I'm definitely not going to post them all, but I think I'm going to try and do something with them.

This is one of my favorites because it's current to what I'm kinda feeling right now. I'm going to post the one I cherish the most a little later, and yes they will soon be copyrighted.

Thinking of You
By DAMON SMITH

It may have just been days ago
That we really met
But off of my feet,
Is where I’ve been swept
Already I can see the depths, of you
Lead to the Truth
So I have no reason
to be scared nor confused
Your words, your smile
Beguile my heart, they do
So many amazing thoughts for me
to insatiably muse through

(Chorus)
I’ll be thinking of you
When I wake,
In the morn, I'm thinking of you

I’ll be thinking of you
When I take,
My last breath, I'll be thinking of you

At night before I sleep
In that same moment,
I just hope you’re thinking of me, too.
(Repeat)

Constantly, in my mind you are
It’s like your words knew where to start
I didn’t want to give away this secret
I don’t fall this fast, this frequent-ly
My soul is immersed with your being
Could this be true, what I’m believing?
One question hearken my soul every time I pray
Could you be my missing rib molded from God’s clay?

(Chorus)
I’ll be thinking of you
When I wake,
In the morn, I'm thinking of you

I’ll be thinking of you
When I take,
My last breath, I'll be thinking of you

At night before I sleep
In that same moment,
I just hope you’re thinking of me, too.
(Repeat)

(bridge)
I have no clue where this is going
don't know if we'll stay grounded
or fly high like a Boeing
I just know I can't keep myself from showing
you how I feel, just want things to keep flowing ...

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