Monday, August 28, 2017

Master Teacher

My lesson begun in silent observation of his choice of Yes or No. Awakened to form, color, tears and his goodbye......where sleep was once an infinite bed of love created between the two of my parents. I knew not where his footsteps led but always prayed they would detour to still find me waiting for his return. In days of no him, he taught me the power of imagination to assign life purpose and direction when there seemed to be none. He helped me to understand that all life was valuable and to identify its correlation to my own. Everything I extended, invested and offered life, I offered him. None of which could pay for 17 years behind bars and coping mechanism to refute the pain that came with cages and distance. "Hi Dad..... It's Kelly." "I'm sorry....I do not have a daughter." I don't remember how many times I repeated "It's me ...... Dad. It's me." Waiting for him to remember the tone in my voice to ignite heart strings fragile and worn. I would be physically before him less than 24 hours later to prove I was real and breathing. The tables turned....he now waited for my footsteps to return to him. My footsteps found him blending into buildings of city blocks hungry. My footsteps walked beside him for short stints of time to days where there was no him. In our synchronized  walking he warned of energy vampires and made queries of my happiness. Other times there was no walking just him hiding before me where I remained still out of reach. Detoured footsteps became deliberate decisions to stay away because he did not want my help. For my own mental health, I don't know how many more times I could leave him on the corner Webster Ave and 14th street because homelessness was his choice. A messenger was sent whispering my father's name enough that I picked up the phone after 5 years of no communication. He knew me this time and wanted to see me. I oblige his wish to find him withering away where there was no love or concern.  Thank God for a childhood friend that showed up in my absence while I deliberated what to do. On everything I knew love to be I kidnapped him. This choice brought all the lessons I avoided about deep connection and the imbalance you can suffer. To rage war in his defense was a thoughtless act if it meant his health and his happiness were at state of compromise. This love demonstrated the responsibility life demanded concerning everyone involved. As I struggled to battle systems and culture that feed off the weak and poor, depression lingered in as my father took up the sword to fight for my health and happiness. His adamant strokes of fierce clarity would not allow me to be swallowed whole. He demanded I master me first in this unfamiliar terrain of wanting more for him than he wanted for himself. No help would be received as he awaited for a report of my alignment. His eyes scanned over me reading my energy and assessing if I had learned. With a simple head nod, I had passed only after failing. Outside of love being this energy that binds, it also the energy that affirms while teaching. We have a choice to love fiercely while accompanying others on our journey. Even in the times where we may be out of view or out of reach, love is strong enough to deliver us exactly where we want to be.  For love is the Master Teacher.

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Ninguna Mujer NingĂșn Grito

She sat at the base of the elongated mirror. Legs wide as if preparing to birth the root of her. She told herself the story one last time to hear the weight of truth it bore. Woman lesson come fashioned not in the wisdom of a grandmother's tongue but on the back of a loud whisper stating "When people show you who they are, believe them". She had come to believe a number things. Her hand searched the darkness for the scissors. In her grip, she clearly and consciously inserted the blade into the life line that connected them. Eagerly freeing herself. What the blade could not master, her hands entered the center of the heart chakra pulled the remains from her thoracic. Left hollow she emerged into the oil scented water bathing her spiritual wound with lemon, "Ancestors help me." She returned to the warmth of the enveloping sea.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

A Man's Pain

I have lived my greatest dreams and worst nightmare out here in these streets almost free though almost out of here today my heart is absolutely cold and free you read the words of a stranger someone you use to know i've contacted u for my own reasons in the morning we are still enemies weather u believe it or not i want to covey a message some last words to give a glimpse to my son where i'm at where i've been though i know he will never be able to know what it means to live them it is my hope that in some strange way he will catch a glimpse of who i was. how irreparable my life has become its always the last day of summer and i'm left out in the cold with no door to get back in i've had my share of great moments life passed most people by while there making grand plans for it through out my life i've left peaces of my heart heart and there now there almost not enough to stay alive i still smile knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent there are no more wild horses or pretty ladies at my door.

The winds of change blew a hole thru my head scattering all my dreams its all goddam mean and strange i'm going outside in cant you see i'm blind walking on stilts you tripple crossed my mind and rode into my heart. you say your looking for a saviour i'm just a begger counting change do you remember the when the world was an ocean of dreams and every ride was a wave. ill always burn in the sun while you stand in my shadow its sunrise and sunset where every taboo is holy before and after its glow.

May the wind always be at your back the sun upon your face and may the winds of destiny carry you aloft to dance with the stars.

A bud has burst on thee upperbounds A leppeard sang in my heart today i know where the pale green grasses grow by a tiny runnel of the way the earth is soft and wet a cucu bird whispered to me not yet not yet they are wrong what they say about me they are wrong.

By Marcus I. McCall

Thursday, December 03, 2009


"This moment won't last forever" was his statement of comfort to a woman-child who desired to be rescued by her father from her mother. Needless to say a father teaching impermanence to a woman-child who only understood separation, distance and difference was unsuccessful in providing solace. The moment didn't last forever and she continued to record the moments he left her there in this space fighting not her mother but her fear. In her difference of opinion, the separation between where she was and where she was trying to get to, the distance lead her to a vision in her mind. This fight...this fear... this fertile ground she found no numbers of people to affirm only what she knew to resonate as the courage to be individually human. There were mental constructs of places and times she was joined on the tangents she navigated. Not all prepare for death despite the fact it resides in the same place of the living. It didn't last forever but she welcomed what came. The messages, reflections, random pages of books and even he... her father in his own way advised to live dangerously with compassion because all you really have is right now.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Ne Me Quitte Pas

He had already left and there were no more tears to betray her hidden emotion. There would be no more waiting or hoping. She did not cave over from the piercing that penetrated her heart. Her breath shallow near absent. She placed the phone at the base of the bed and walked out onto the endless possibilities of her life. There on the ledge of her death and birth she whispered "Ne Me Quitte Pas" as she held tight to the night. In the midst of unbareable silence she heard a soft knocking then the opening of the front door. She listened for the traveling of footsteps but detected none. She turned her back but Courage whispered "face it". She failed to move Courage whispered "face it". The wind restless touched her, gently tugged causing her to look over her right shoulder. There as if her mother gaped open breathing hard, she saw herself whole, complete and loved.

Monday, August 03, 2009

Deep Waters (hear the song)

Her love was....
always in that place where they merged
she open and vast
invasive whispers held tight to the sounds made
strumming mirrors reflect the yearning that walked in
reachning for anything and everything that space made no room
for in places defined as logic
mositure gathered to affirm the living
this place boundless
peeling back skin of moments spent
to never be more than what is
duality searching for where one ends and the other begins
submerged in liquid air.... breathing
wind waiting to be acknowledged as visible
her love was