It's been almost 15 years, and I still miss this kid a whole,whole bunch. <3 

Seems like this time of year he pops into my mind more often as I wonder who he would be today. 

It's the not knowing, and the drifting apart, the words left unspoken 

that still allow that void to hurt just a bit, even after all this time.

 But still having the gift of his words is something I'm thankful for. 

This year we're looking at the inside of 30 and although I never got to see him fulfill his abundant talents beyond 15, I know he's got Heaven vibin' up there. 

I'm not in a hurry, but I know I'll see him again :) 

Golden Memories

By Spike Sherwood

We used to play out in the rain

when we was little kids

running up n down the block when we was little kids

golden memories

take a step back and breathe

one breath at a time

cuz you don't know when ya die'n

so say your prayers often

n hit your brother soft then

if there is a God you'll be in his good grace

maybe you'll go to heaven

nobody's been to the place

but they knowits of safe

golden angel face

vice versa a disgrace

for any human race

n live a equally treated

neva defeated, well breeded, safe seated

full feeded, flaw deleted, goal meted 

always pleaded

life

life or death

its all a fucking mess

a mind scrambling 

constant gambling 

voice rambling 

clump of shit

n neva get rit of it

so sit back, n clear yer mind

n remember all the good times

vibe to ya favorite rhymes

then cry about the sad times

n hope you live a few more sun shines

golden memories should fill the mind

I thank god they do in mine

"The love of knowledge is a kind of madness."
-C.S. Lewis

The sun is orange
Rising up confidently
A sherbert globe ablaze
Amplified by the
Delicate blanket of
Murkey breath hovering over
A sleepy horizon

A Baker's Dozen

When the sun sets
And the evening rises
Forget me not

I may be gone
But don't forget
The moments that defined us

When the days fade
And the end's on the horizon
I'll forget you not

Would who you were 

As a dreamer, a wide eyed wonderer

A child with aspirations aplenty

Feel satisfaction

In who you have become?

If so

Smile wide 

And savor

The feeling of 

True fulfillment

But if like me 

Your former self

Would at times be let down

By your tendencies 

And inadequacies

It's time to look back

And take inventory

Of the fiber that weaves

Together your heart

For its the one thing

That time cannot contaminate

If ever I lose sight again
Of who it is I am
I hope to remember
That a simple glimpse
Of me when I was young
Is the only reflection
I'll ever need

Which Way?

I find that my purpose and worth seem to be so very intertwined with what I am allowed to contribute to. Rarely does it occur to me that perhaps giving is not the only equalizer in my life. Could it be that the practice of my art is simply an escape from that which otherwise consumes my fears? Will there ever again be a balance of the two- freedom and duty? For one will destroy me from within, the decay of doubt dissolving me slowly. Yet the other will strip me of moments and life, igniting a desire to be and do and always reminding me that there will always be more than I can accomplish.

So which will it be, or will it be neither? How fickle is the heart when it has the luxury of options from which to choose. Will I be still and face the darkness, hoping to come out a refined version of myself on the other end? Or will I flee, chasing the whimsy of the wind that blows free and unrooted?

I must choose one, I fear. For the circle of life has followed me thrice and here still I stand, planted firmly in uncertainty. In the morn I will face my conundrum anew, seeing with eyes what beauty is held here. What a glorious problem to hold one in each hand, and while my eyes behold them, my heart will pray.