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

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

Lost Thoughts

Lost Thoughts
I lost my thoughts in the waters of baptism.
Ate my ideas with communion drank away my hopes
Smoked up my goals and snorted away my dreams.
Shot up my inspiration fell out of the house in desperation
With numb love
The kind that don’t come from above.
Never touched or validated
We waited,
Equated dollar signs
To I’ve made it!
Got a car, a house, loot and shot hoops.
Intelligent mind like mine
Like phat corna dimes
Confused in the mind can’t keep time
Except in rhyme, I lost my thoughts
But I’m not behind

o.n.e.i.
copyright 2000

The Confession

i have a confession

its something i never thought i'd have to do

but first

before i let you know my inner most feelings

you have to promise to remain true

i mean remain honest and raw as a fortune telling guru

i mean, well...i have a confession

and i don't want you to feel like your response has to make a positive impression

i mean i've known this for quite some time

but for some reason it kept slipping my mind or i told myself i couldn't find

the place or the right words

like i didn't want to say all of the things you have ever heard

so

i will confess this to you and only you

and if you choose

to walk away

its cool

cause i've rehearsed every response that a fool

like me deserves

my nerves...

ok.

i want to confess how you make me sweat

especially at night i hold onto the memories that has made this moment not all alright

i need to tell you that i am sick i am tired i am literally loosing weight because of our first date

i can't tell you how i wish this would not be happening i'm babbling

ok

i need to confess that i have undressed you a million times already knowing yet ignoring the signs

i could not admit then

what i definitely know now

its like diarrhea and i'm running around just to end up under mounds of doubt and guilt

i have built another world within myself

i am finally ready to confess all of the reasons why

i've felt like i was unworthy

this secret has drove me to hurt you and countless others

from lovers to wives and children unborn my inner wrath is as a woman's scorn

see i have been wanting to tell someone for so long but i can't bare for any of you to tell me i'm wrong and that these are the consequences for my actions

i just wanted to share with hopes of feeling mere satisfaction

of clearing my conscience

so that we may deal with each other without a charade of non-sense

i have been trying to avoid judgemental thoughts, pitiful wonders,curious looks, and unforgiving stares

this is why i have been so scared !

to confess this even to myself

... that i am not damaged goods

i should not be defined by a simple blood test

if i could help what i am about to confess

if i could expose every hole in my breast

would you look beyond the markings on my chest ?

would you still call me and care for me without performing a patch test

i know the brutal truth will set me apart so let me start by apologizing for breaking your heart

rather your unrealistic expectations

i apologize for not resisting temptations

i am contrite for accepting your unsolicited invitation

causing your respiratory to be labored in respiration i am trapped in a white cell seeking inspiration

I DID NOT ASK YOU TO FEEL ANYTHING FOR ME !

I DO NOT WANT YOUR PITY !

I NEED YOU TO LISTEN TO MY CONFESSION !

DID YOU HEAR WHAT I JUST SAID ?

THE CONFESSION I JUST MADE !

CAUGHT UP IN MY WORDS I JUST TOLD YOU I HAVE A.I.D.S. !

AND NONE OF YOU HEARD MY WORDS

AND ALL OF YOU JUST SAW MY SHELL

AND NONE OF YOU COULD REALLY TELL WHAT THE HELL I WAS TRYING TO CONVEY...

WHAT I REALLY WANT TO SAY, IS THAT I WANT TO LIVE I AM AFRAID TO DIE.

SO I CONFESS TO YOU ALL WHAT SO MANY WILL NOT EVER UTTER

I HAVE HIV AND I AM LIVING WITH FULL BLOWN A.I.D.S.

ITS SOMETHING I THOUGHT I'D NEVER HAVE TO DO

STAND BEFORE THE MASSES AND ADMIT THIS SO THAT YOU ALL CAN GET A CLUE

ONEI

o.n.e.i. copyright 2009

Penmanship

PENMANSHIP

I am touching you again

Not knowing how to hold you or what to say.

It’s all cramped up, packed away

I thought I’d lost you or you went astray

I find myself touching you,

Again,

In some strange way possible a sin

Lookin’ to hold you

Addicted to THE PEN.

Secondary is paper as a long lost friend

I continue to bend consonants to no end

Vowel I’ll do my best with enunciation

Vowing commitment to my occupation

Calling!

If I must say so myself.

Witnessing poetry books stored on the shelf

Uneducated in the science, thru GREATER ALLIANCE

I still write despite my electric fence defiance

Slash-mental blocks words lock ink filled jots control my mind.

Life hands in the balance escaping time

Transforming trance of the DIVINE.

Entering my soul as colorful rhyme

Cadence is rhythm manifesting as hymn

THE PEN

Produces

The snaps, the applause, the yes-yes ya’lls

From gray cloud skies eloquence does fall.

Inspiring hues of blues and deepening blacks.

Allows me to decrease these demons on my back

Desperate in all attempts I twist and spin

Never relinquishing the Power of THE PEN.

o.n.e.i.
copyright 2005

Mental Health In America

Uploaded by www.cellspin.net

The Gully

I have heard about the hard money times . I have watched people cut back on some things but we have only now started to feel what some have felt for years. So I will keep this one short. Welcome America to the color reality ! Now you will see the true feeling of black and white !

o.n.e.i.
2009

Real Time

Real time. As in, as we speak. Real time has really forced us to operate in a delayed state waiting for the update. Allowing us to fill in otherwise meaningful space and time with sublime real time frames behind the ongoing pains. Media take out fake out our senses. We miss the glimpses of our children, aging parents, our aging faces which are apparent in real advertisements. Caught in the digital circus and unspoken divide stay in the moment its real momentum is live.
O.N.E.I. (c) 2009