Dance World.

Bodies, like the words on a page.

Making sentences with the movements from sound waves 

speak a language only feet can play 

making stories out of  melodies, 

letting go of our worries. 

Bodies, like the workings of a clock 

record the passing of time 

by the aging skin 

juxtaposed by the fading rock.  

Give the mind a rest, 

put that body to the test. 

Let those hips rock to the beat , 

letting each tic direct your stop 

its rhythm can quicken and then 

you are twirling in circles of friends. 

Be safe here, 

be alive. 

Let the rhythm relax the eyes.

Theres control
theres release.

In every motion 

you understand it, 

It provokes emotion. 

The brain is the only organ that strengthens with time.
Give it what it needs to stay alive. 

Its memory may fade

but its ability to learn skills only sharpen.'

Education stimulates 

while water nourishes.
Practicing movement
keeps the body in motion.

Lets learn how dance releases stress
how its imperative for the balance
that makes us our best. 

Its liking yourself.
Its loving your health.

Its rather simple really, 

the crash, the burn.
The surrender.  The defeat. 

It all makes sense when you think about it.
When you stop moving your feet.

Its all the in-between shit, 

that makes you feel invincible,

that fucks you up.

But it can only send you into a new dance,
as long as you never give up. 

write.

Alone with the mind
is how a writer creates a world.

Silence of the senses
eyes on a blanket of white
only seeing the words
only feeling the story unwind

drink it in
the creation flowing out your finger tips
this is where meaning exists.
the magic to let go and trust in your wit.

watch it grow
the story never told
see how it unravels
in a direction you didn't originally imagine it'd go.

Follow its path
your allowed to look back
unlike in life
your creation is yours to edit and revise
it becomes whats most appealing to YOUR eyes.
What flatters YOUR heart.
Here is your start.

a poem by E. E. Cummings

(For my big sister Jessica)

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

One Art a poem by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master; 
so many things seem filled with the intent 
to be lost that their loss is no disaster. 

Lose something every day.
 Accept the fluster of lost door keys, 
the hour badly spent. 
The art of losing isn't hard to master. 

Then practice losing farther, losing faster: 
places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. 
None of these will bring disaster. 

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, 
or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. 
The art of losing isn't hard to master. 

I lost two cities, lovely ones. 
And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. 
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

 —Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) 
I shan't have lied. 
It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master 
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster. 


If I were to write it, i'd say to you - my first love- 

the art of losing you felt like a disaster. 

Dancing with death

The idea of death
Used to comfort me
In my darkest hour
I wanted to die
But it's not what you think
I wanted to see
How people would be
In my absence.

I used to sit in class
Anxiety accelerating at the speed
It took my professor to read.
I would stare out the window
At a beautiful tree
Feel comforted in the fact
That I could die easily.
If someone were to just hit me with a car
I would be free of this misery.

Gradually, those feelings left
Happiness crept
And I could breath once again
With ease.

Today I dance a different tango with death
For now that I want to live
The fear is to lose a love
That's helped me bare this life.

It doesn't get realer then this. . .

It doesn't get realer then this.

The bi polar tango between
breakdown and acceptance.

We've lost us a child
a baby of only 8 years
everyone around us
has been drowning in their tears.

I can hear him now
saying
"Catch your breath dad,
I am here!"
This young boys voice
is the only one I hear.

Your voice
rung like the first sound of church bells on a sunday morning.
Echoed through the trees and into the sky
the wind listened to you as you voiced your adventures
with passionate fervency that had squirrels darting for the bushes
as you chased them on foot
pigions flocking to the sky
where your spirit now flies

And the beat goes ON
replaying in my head
even though our son is dead.

We have lost a bit of air
entertaining the feeling
that your no longer there.

Glued to the bench
tears in his eyed
trying not to cry
rather, he tries to reminisce of your time alive.

"I'm not crying, I'm mad!"
Sharda, the rock of this family
frustrated from being misunderstood
saddened to stand alone
where you both once stood.

This experience is transcendent
to feel the spirit of a child
teasing you through the wind in your hair
forcing you to reflect on your life
from now on demanding you make it truly worthwhile

there is a stillness in the air
no one can breath
we are all alone in our heads, with you
realizing now its you we NEED.

We have lost you and its unbearable.
My deepest condolences.

Mathew 19-14

I asked my Uncle George to find me a passage from the bible to include in a eulogy for the passing of an eight year old boy. 

He read me this one: 

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” 

Perfect, I thought. 
Thats all I needed to hear. 

Om

It would be understandable if I lost my mind 

but that would only be a HUGE waste of time 

so instead ill think of you as i stare at the sun 

and recall how your presence never hurt anyone 

you were a simple joy in this chaotic world 

you were comfortingly innocent, just lie every young boy and girl. 

I must think good thoughts. . .

for it wasn't me who lost a son.


Life could always be worse,
but this feel like a treacherous curse.

I am still alright
I am still alive.
Yet life feels heavy
my heart has changed
it beats differently now
with pain.

I have pain in my heart
for the life too shortly lived
for the potential unused
for the growth that has now ended.

my love really lies with the parents
one biological and one adopted
still  love all the same
this the same family
who has kept me sane.

Its interesting what you notice
when you really open your eyes
when you see what you've missed
that were standing in front of you all along…
breath.
stay strong.
you can't lose your mind to this.

Lets give him one last kiss
recall the life that bloomed before your eyes
he was a natural leader, bold and alive
he will connect us in grief for the rest of our lives

It beautiful really, the way people bond in distress
its poetic really, now one boy can be missed by all the rest

We lost an angel that day.
Friday April the 4th- 4,4,14
But his memory will live on in my stories
this adventurer deserves an epic journey
walk with me as i imagine your glory
and how you will save us from suffering in your absence.

I am anything you want me to be.

I am anything you want me to be.
I live in the shadows created by sunlight
I am the gorgeous color of the leaves

Come play with me
lose yourself in beautiful fantasies
a state of ludos- latin for easing pleasures
letting go of all your worries and embracing the moment as if it could last forever
breath darling, take in that air
your son is waiting there
in the moment when all in life makes sense, it is alright
for such a sad to thing to have happened because it helped you want to fight
fight for the justice of a man wanting a chance to love his child
and all the while
fight for the strength not to let the heart go completely wild
hold tight to your sanity, your son still needs your to be strong
rather then destruct your own life irrationally
lets put these feelings into a memorable song
he would have liked that
sing of him in all his glory in all his days
he liked to sing and dance right with ya
he would be smiling in all types of ways

he was a joy to have around
and whenever his voice got real loud
i'd giggle and hug myself, not caring who was around.

to think…

I think i loved you because you made me feel something.

You made me feel sincere happiness.
You made me feel loved.
And then that love died.

And i cried and i cried.

And now all these years later
I can barely remember
feeling anything for you
compared to what i've felt
for these people who got me over you

and those same people
who consoled me in my darker times
now theres pain in their eyes
having lost a child.
a CHILD of nine.
And here I am
their loyal friend
feeling helpless
crying from agony and madness
a deeper cry then before
this cry opens dark doors
it numbs the brain for intervals of time
then releases a wave of grief that tsunamis the eye

its an exhausting roller coster of the most intense scenario of sadness i can imagine for any human in all of man kind

it is a maddening situation that tests the strongest person who has ever loved a child or any human being more then his own mind

it is a nightmare, a tragedy - a heartbreaking sad ending.
But the story has not finished for it never does

The story of this beautiful family lives on, and he lives now through our hearts.

We have planted a tree of him in our hearts where he will grow.
Life is somehow more meaningful now that i carry a piece of you wherever i go.
We must rejoice his life-
 and then take ownership of the lesson this fate has disguised.

What can we do to honor him?
What does he understand now that his life has ended?

This is a wake up call in itself, more important to learn from tragedy then to acquire wealth.
Love is the most valuable aspect of life.
To have loved a child so pure, innocent and new to the world- and then lose him before he has been given a proper chance to grow- is horrifying.
It is the worst kind of fate. But it does not kill the soul.

We must remember Anne Franks Father. What a human duty he did by sharing his daughters diary. A real person going through one of the most horrifying fate's god could muster.

But he lived on for the sake of his child, to honor her life and the service she did by writing.

And thats what we must do for you, Sweet Antwuan.

if my heart were a garden...

If my heart were a garden
my lovers would be flowers
my family you be grass
but you
my sweet little angle
you would be a weeping willow tree
planted sturdy, roots deep and secure
you wear your vines like pearls
the wind playfully invited you to a romantic dance

open those eyes dear
notice the signs
the connections, read in-between the lines
theres a message hidden in every moment
the pretty sights, sounds of nature
singing to you from Gods lips
pleasing the ear
flowing out your finger tips.

He is here with you
he is alive through you
on the page
in your mind
imagining him in heaven
breathing with ease in his eyes

Death is a safe place
escape from suffering in this world
let all your worries go
and just float
and breath
and enjoy the fact that you lived at all.

Thats all we can do really.
Is be happy for what we had.
Laughter.
Love.
Loss.

Feeling it all.
Happy to have felt at all.

RIP my beloved Antwuan

Friday, April 4th 2014 marks the day the world lost an angel but gained a beautiful bright star in the sky. 

Today I wake up with tears in my eyes but wipe them away with a smile.

It's a beautiful day and I just want to celebrate the life of a beautiful child.

May you, Antwuan, always live in my heart until we are reunited in my own depart. 

Every time I look up at the sky, and feel the warmth of the sun on my face, the smell of fresh cut grass with the sound of children playing in the background - I'll be thinking of you. You and how magical you made the world feel just by the sound of your laughter, by the sight of your smile and the warmth of your hugs.

Your legacy will live on, in our minds hearts and souls. I shall write a million stories about you, about the burning fire of love you have sparked in so many hearts. I am honored to have know you at all little guy. 

Suddenly- I am listening to the music of bag pipes playing in the background as I type this. This marks beginning of a new sports season. I hear the children cheering for joy, and my heart is swelling for you sweet boy. I feel you here, you are rejoicing as well - you are playing in the sunlight that touches the face of your strong father, Dell. 

Carry on my sweet little angel, play in the clouds so that we peer up at them we'll feel you there look down on us. proud. RIP <3 p="">