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Page 5

Love begins in the head but it ends in the heart, and once it enters the heart the pain can start

  Blood flow moves the spirit, trying to take over and steer it to levels that are out of control

  Constant poundings take their toll on the soul creating new roles for the actors to play

  They long to stay but don’t know how to say what they truly feel

  Feeling uncanny and unreal like cold steel pressing against the temple of the body

  When the space is erased in the place of the brain

  Drowned out by emotional rain leaving love stains and pain

  With increasing persistence they struggle against this cruel bliss

  Are they crazy or just too lazy to fight against loves might?

  Instead they either take flight or invite themselves into competition

 

  Signing the next line of the petition of crucifixion

  For what else is love if not self-sacrifice and who is truly wise enough to offer advice?

 

  Is extinction not a high enough price to have to pay?

 

  But each individual must find some way out of the gray fog and mists amidst the shifts of the fists

  And the fury and the worry that permeates the inner self

  Takes personal wealth off of the shelf and spends what remains within

  This leaves them in the void feeling paranoid

  Scared to ever again let love in for to those places they have already been

 

  And seen just how mean is the reality that they will never again be

 

  Free

  Withering Rose:

  Winter in the Garden

  To love her best I had to let her go

  My tears leaving water for her to grow...

  Do you remember the day the seasons changed?

  When the sky turned gray and cold?

  Tree leaves began to flee,

  As the wind grew strong and bold.

  I believed we were the oak,

  Too solid to ever break.

  Laughing at young sapling lovers,

  That in the wind would bend and shake.

  But they learned the lesson early,

  Of what things were greater than them.

  With their roots firmly grounded,

  Their love could not be stripped from their limbs.

  I had ignored the dove’s warnings,

  Calling to me as they took to the skies.

  That to remain here was to perish,

  I closed my ears against their cries.

  For I knew my Rose would come to me,

  As her shelter from any storm.

  To provide as I always had,

  Comfort and love to keep her warm.

  I attempted to calm her fears,

  As we danced in decaying meadows.

  She asked me why the trees were so bare,

  And where did the rainbows go?

  I had no clue of how to tell her,

  So I broke down in tears.

  For it was her undeniable devotion,

  That was the culmination of my greatest fears.

  I knew we could not survive,

  In the garden for all eternity.

  I longed to transport us somewhere else,

  Until the cold became only a memory.

  But in the months that followed,

  Before our joy was buried.

  I retreated from love’s winter,

  As I grew more afraid and worried.

  I sought comfort in my solitude,

  My cooling climate making my Rose frigid.

  And despite my attempts to unthaw her heart,

  The winter held her frozen and rigid.

  The essence of love that had once been so strong,

  Was now as brittle as her thorns of ice.

  I had once again bled for the dream of the garden,

  And once again paid the piper’s high price.

  Now in clear reflections,

  Like those I viewed in the garden’s pools.

  I recall her delicate beauty,

  And her warm petals turned suddenly cool.

  I had only longed to cultivate our love,

  But I believed that of destiny I was king.

  Winters stark realities left me barren

  Living and hoping for the coming of spring...

  Searching

 

  I`ve been searching

  For a way to stop the hurting

  That is always lurking

  Behind a smile that cannot reach my eyes

  All my lies

  Every plan I`ve devised

  And every love I`ve denied

  Have me drowning in a thick pool of murky despair

  I try to say beware

  To all the ladies that stare

  All those queens and princesses so fair

  Eager to climb atop my torrid throne

  My soul is alone

  Even though I`ve invited many into my physical home

  I haven`t yet found a way to atone

  For years of abusing those closest to me

  I long to be free

  But years of captivity are all I see

  It seems that an excuse for a man is all I can be

  Until you can find it in your heart

  to forgive me

  better to have loved and lost

  cheater liar thief dog

  worthless stupid pariah hog

  unfair unkind untrue unwilling

  destroyed denied denounced defeating

  forgotten forsaken foretold for nothing

  without within whimsome wanting

  torn tortured traumatized turnabout

  scream swear sacrifice shout

  hate love me you

  regret repair rebirth renew

  demanding daring drifting dreaming

  hoping handling hiding healing

  open bleeding infected malignant

  living loving learning ignorant

  taken trapped teased trained

  bamboozled beguiled broken brain

  over through finished done

  played scored lost one

  games tricks stolen time

  released poisoned subconscious mind

  fusion division fission atomic

  foolish crazy ironic comic

  pierced pleasured promised pain

  cumulus descent acid rain

  emotionless stressed strained tried

  cried tears evaporation dried

  stained perpetual lead heart

  cupid aim ready dart

  now next notice new

  walking wearing worn shoes

  better once loved lost

  forever knowing loves cost

  mic check…qwantu, qwantu (1,2…1,2)

  qwantu amaru (the lightbringer) is a current resident of new jersey and a beauty mark on the world’s expansive face. born in pittsburgh, pennsylvania he has traveled the u.s. extensively and spent considerable time abroad as well.

  he wrote his first poem back in ’98 about a love battle waged and lost and he’s been using poetry to battle back ever since. complex and ever changing his writing took a significant leap forward upon joining the diverse and hard hitting backtalk! poetry troupe in 2001. somewhere between honing his craft as a passionate spoken word artist and attending florida a&m in the mba program he managed to graduate and someone actually hired this self described “conscious rebel”.

  “we used to work for the massa, now i’ve got my masters, and i still work for the massa,” he says of his experience working the commercial plantations of corporate america. not letting anything stop him, qwantu is in process of completing his first supernatural suspense novel.

  qwantu describes his spoken word flow as “stream of consciousness poetic truth”. for more information visit his websi
te at www.qwantuamaru.com or e-mail him at [email protected].