Textile Tapestry

Sometimes I am misunderstood by the way I express myself. At times I can be innovative or I take the old me off the shelf.

I think that I am often misunderstood because I try to appease each and everyone of you so I stand out as if I am constantly being interviewed.

I have been around this world making statements, lending my expertise to the causes of humanity, yet some still feel I am just concerned with shallow vanity.

However, this is furthest from the truth! I never wanted you to be enslaved by my fruits! It is man who labels me and charges a fee when my expression is always free!

I am so misunderstood yet I keep showing up but it is not me who corrupts fabrics dividing mankind. I don't command a runway with seasonal changes or generational times.

I am simple as a fig leaf figuratively speaking; free flowing as a grass skirt. My hues vary from red clay to dark brown dirt. I simply desire to protect and provide a daily revival promoting individual style. I can be classy or flashy, but always filled with passion!

I am an icon, I am Fashion.

Written by ONEI 2010

Tonight

I stand before you tonight with a free style
cause what I have to say
I thought was worth
they wild
my words
fit the profile
cause I just buried my child
So I stand before you left with a seven year old
and wife whose dom is split open pouring out sorrow that provides enough red ink that I had to think of a way to covey my purpose in this room
you come and play with the gift with big egos hats and plumes
while I write as to not be consumed by the casket and beautiful basket of flowers her classmates sent
I stand in this crowd just to prevent a subsequent death I possess the pebble that would shatter the windshield of the car wreck that wrecked her body and our world
I have still two baby girls
My wife and seven year old daughter not to mention grandma
I
Hate to waste your time but I took this open mic as my dime to reach out to you and transcend time if just for a nanosecond cause the minute I let go imma blow my fucking ...
I reckon I best keep coming back so I can nurse my wife to health she has lost so much she has lost touch of what it means to live she merely exist our little person is slowly grasping the concept of this carnage called life her sister is no longer here she said she don't want to ride her bike and when she gets older she just might be afraid of what she couldn't quite pin point but I am sure it is of what we all are fearful of
No control a fear of life a fear of the unknown a fear of being served with a curveball of life that would change your time zone
So I stand with this style so free to let my daughter's spirit inhabit me and roam
I speak her words right before she left home;

"Daddy, I trust you to carry my legacy on just as I have done for you. I have left you too soon I know this to be true. Yet I have carried you as far as I possible could. Now I must go forth but know I am never too far..."

I can't read the rest cause it gets stuck in my chest so I will just say love our children and be blessed.

Life

What is respiration without inspiration confirming the affirmations counteracting condemnations that serve as initiations into self negation leading to contemplation of seeking false elation

A permanent mental vacation complacent in stagnantion with few variations on Friday and Saturday occasions followed by Sunday indoctrination

I keep pacing the floor looking for the trap door to release you all,
The whore
Who freely give your minds for the sake of passing time waiting for the next time to mime and act classy but your image is ashy knowing that on the other side the green isn't grassy
but
You continue to be flashy I ask thee
What is required to restore the motherboard with its original drivers so the applications can not only be smart but wiser?

So the voice recognizer, software can hear its own voice making a conscious choice diplaying a higher resolution in your digital monitor unafraid to honor HER and cosmicly play amongst the stars within the galaxies yet to be seen through human eye,
defy the laws of gravity.

Experiencing real heavy rotation touching future generations walking through the constellations drinking all of your sacrificial libations
you receive a celestrial standing ovation the elation resonating through you producing beneficial fubu
clarifying the hoodo that you do breaking the spell that makes you compelled to use pet names like boo boo
yet
can explain and provide you with a real crew to turn to when needing a blast a spiritual starbucks requiring no expres so far cut above I rest my case in haste and paste this trace of thought that makes your nerve endings talk to your walk altering your course of action the attraction you feel the traction hoping I don't end a fraction of you are turned on and burn the toxic auras surrounding your being and seeing these words manifest you must confess the shortcomings and ask
What is respiration without inspiration confirming the affirmations counteracting condemnations that serve as initiations into self negation leading to contemplation of seeking false elation

O.N.E.I. Copyright 2010
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

Tears II

Tears are the words falling that we just can't speak Tears are only for the strong and not for the weak Tears clean out the emotional painsThey are the deep seeded thorns that stick in our brains Tears are the hurtful memories falling down in watery piecesmaking room for lifes new moments and the lessons it teaches AndFor each salty stain left upon your cheek remember why you cried and begin to dig deep Start your journey to reach your peakThe people you meet along the path you beat will have positive and negative fruit to eat as you rummage in the field of emotional cleansing only your tears can wash your buildingOnly you control the interior design of your mindonly you can shift the furniture to make you shine Don't compare your building with anyone else because everyones cards have been dealt from a different deck yet by the same dealer So consult GOD for he is the ultimate healer The Creater knows from whence those tears came and HE knew when they would fall HE is just waiting for you to make that call to gently ask for what you want HE will repair that esteem that always seems to haunt HE will dry those tears erase the stains and pains but be mindful not to use HIM in vain In order to eat the fruit along your travels you must work and put away your gaveldo not judge your self or judge others cry these tears and use your mothers andall otherswho are quietly waiting for you to ask for what you emotionally needdo it now so you can be freed.
o.n.e.i. 2009

Spho

Who speaks to the one who stands n the middle of the road possesing the pyramid reflecting the polarity of energies light
Who speaks to the one who stands vulnerable in humbled delight
Who speaks to the one who is awakened and refuses to fall into slumber the one who counts on every number to sum up all the possibilities thought of
Who speaks to the nay sayer truth teller drunken with messages displaying vestiges of time travel
Who speaks to thee standing in the mirror of humanity shattered with calamity after calamity who is abandoned by we the shamans called a men fall
Who speaks is out of the cloud who truly allows the speaker to be loud enough to reach the rough places that appear off course and of course
Who speaks to this piece intelligibly except the tree tied to your being are you seeing who speaks


ONEI copyright 2010

Note

Note:I write to you in hopes that you are not treated like the children harmed by popes I write in hopes that you cope well with the fact that I feel compelled to use you to quell my raging thoughts
I halt with thought that I may take you to the limit and out of context
you see I write you and its kinda complex
I turn to you, a simple note to play upon my heart strings and bring an ounce of sanity to this noteless world filled with vanity
I candidly admit that I pick you
Note: to hold my impulses and give them life
Note: you are the reason why I write

Invisible World

When you walk up the street
Do you ever think to greet
The junkie turned bum with the highest degree
The real hustler’s, busters walking the street
This is his home no matter how neat
It’s not
You cross the street like the block is hot or
Like walking by him gonna blow up your spot
You must have a problem
Is something wrong with his home?
Although you crossed over you still in his zone

Just say hi, hello, hey, wussup
Oh you too busy to speak to his stinking butt?
Looked at his gear
Assumed he didn’t care or gave a fuck
As you rush to daycare, bitchin’ life is tough
“Can you spare some change?”
(I don’t want to steal.)
“I’ll even have the left over from your meal.”
“I don’t get too many. Can I have a minute of your time?
“A penny would be plenty perhaps a dime?”

You stare and peep at him through the tinted windows of your jeep
As he picks the scabs of his infected feet
Stare at his clothes that are old circa I have dream speech
Matted beard smelling of soot from the heat used to warm chilly type nights
Overall look that tells you America ain’t right!

So as you walk down the street thinking, “This creep!”
Remember
You sow and you reap

o.n.e.i. 2001

Mirrors

Reflections reflect
What you cannot recollect
Remember the irrational
Reason the reside is in your reflection
Reflecting like a reflector
Remember reconsider reflecting
Within your reservoir retreat
Reflect upon your rational self and relocation
Is what you will reconsider.

Black Folk

We pledge allegiance
To the colors of Butter’ Tims, 20-inch rims, diamond emblems, platinum gems,
Sex icons with the latest fashines.
Enshrined in acrylic nails that can’t post bail.
Ya’ll can’t tell?
We pledge allegiance
To looking good and ain’t gotta pot to piss or shit.
Wearing name brand clothing and can’t pronounce it.
Buying high priced jewels looking like fools.
Buying two-dollar stocking caps when granny got that!
Running ball in ney best kicks and get mad when a brotha’ step on it.
Connected to a cell to be paged while on the bus stop delayed.
Stay paid and always broke,
Gotta Bally’s membership and don’t even work.
Talkin’ ‘bout, “I’m serious” when they a big joke.
Black folk