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"Self Unshevled" (Two Parts)

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here's #12 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, Tx

Part 1

My heart

My soul

My spirit

My love

My life

My thoughts

My skin

My desire

My drive

My will

My power

My weakness

My future endeavors

My past regressions

My pain

My anger

My despair

My grief

My struggle

My blaming

My faults

My fears

My apathy

My vengeance

My troubles

Part 2

Funny, it's not really not about me, is it?

I must realize things aren't always what they scream

The needle in the hay stack dream busts through my seams

And the theme isn't a motto, find the points, tips, unhollow

To correct and lead forward, the lesson and rules I must follow.

© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"Smiles Around My Area"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here's #11 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, Tx

i am rethinking my whole approach

wishing that i could have been that father

loving

caring

cradling

helping

her

and so

here i am again

approaching thoughts

being a fatherly wish

hating

scolding

dropping

denying

myself

finally

here i will always be

with wishful thinking

a father of unborn futures

mixed emotions

separated actions

trying to be truthful

with my heart lying amongst pain

doing what's needed

to blanket her soul once again

here...

i am

where

is she?

Hopefully safe, laughing, and in comfort.

© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

2010partyover! Oops! Outta time?

2009! You deserve a proper send off. A hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a "fuck you", as you bounce off of the right foot of my fury! It's been a decade to remember, forget, shit on, and be thankful for...I won't fit all, but some of what I can gather.

Well, I don't do well with resolutions. At least not the ones I come up with. I have had a rough 2009. Had bad relationships that led to my tumultuous disposition, health faded dramatically, was screwed out of my finances by AT&T, a shiesty landlord, and FEMA not willing to help me for my apartment damages from Hurricane Ike...hell, I'm just not coming back into contact with friends that I left for a minute! How's that for rounding the bases in life?

Wow. I still cannot believe Michael Jackson is gone. There are so many entertainers for this first decade of the 2000s that left so quick. No Luther, no Gerald Levert, Aaliyah left here fast, Left-Eye, damn near everyone! James Brown left on "Christmas Day" just as horrible as the tsunami victims did in the east. Man. These are the more surfacing entertainers that were noticed. Bullshit like the planes crashing into the World Trade Center Towers, this fucking "recession" (seems like the same damn shit of old for the Africans here on this God-forsaken land), incited war and imprisonment against world court laws, and ridiculous kidnappings and gruesome murders and sexual deviancies. I mean, seriously folks, tapping your feet in a stall? Using funds to cross your borders for some Argentine skin slapping? Burying a female under the government driveway? cigars...eh, I can't say no more. Wait, one more...INFIDELITY AND CHILD MOLESTATION CRIMES AMONGST the ones who lobby for bills to stop these shits?!?!?

Tiger, Serena, Rodman, Jordan, Vick, Ray Lewis, Bonds, Kanye, Odom, Bey and Jay, Nelly, P-Diddy, Kobe, Shaq, Sosa...What the fuck, man?!?! Targets on the backs of black athletes and entertainers shoved right in the world's face. I mean it's one to know form our own perspective, but to have "white America" replay it as if it's the end of the ages?!?! (See 2012 for more bullshit dramatizing) Honestly, no one can say that they didn't read the fine print when it came to national notoriety.

I'm glad everyone is still talking about Darfur, the G8 Summit, the overthrow in Honduras, The immigration reform, and of course, Jena 6, Brandon McClellan, media banning in Iraq and China. Yeah, who cares about them less? (Where's Kanye?)

There were some good points here and there. These friends and associates helped me to re-center and focus on my goals and achievements to come and conquer. Barack Obama first quarter-term, after overpowering stiff (arm) competition, a ditzy fish ("Sarah Barracuda"), and Lieberman bitching out to join and hide behind the republican party, now donned "The Michael Steele Curtain"comes to a close....here, have some fried chicken and watermelon (cue Zoeller comments).

Shani Davis won gold, and Usain Bolt has revealed that he is half-man, half-cheetah...Jennifer Hudson overcame tremendous pain with her brother and mother's greusome murders, and not only bravely came back out to perform, the got the bitch ass man that did the murders. Togo had its first olympic participant and WON a medal, I believe! Vince Carter totally destroyed 7'6" Weis, and posthumously, Michael was resonating worldwide, as if he was the second coming, smashing all music sales and memorabilia...(Take that, Elvis!)

Yaaaaay! Maxwell and Sade returned from their hiatuses, and Little Brother and De La Soul fucking shut down the place. Props to Pharoahe for his part in amping up HTown along with Talib, Jean Grey, KRS-One, K-O, K-Rino, M-1, Dwele, and Common!!!

Rest with the ancestors, Dilla Dog and Batik. We still jam you all. Chris Henry, McNair, couple of boxers...Pimp C?!?!? Wow...what's really good with these exits?


I had a great time with Chloe, Cody, and Corey, regardless of what happened within the relationship that has me separated from whom I considered my children as well. I still miss them, but things need to progress. Maybe in the future. I joined Grupo De N'Golo Houston and picked up some righteous infor and tecniques for Capoeira Angola. Even had several compliments about my singing of the "corridos" and chulas! It's imperative that I visit a mestre, either here, or in Bahia, Brazil.

My families on both sides took some hits. I lost a great-aunt on my dad's side of the family, and my aunts on my mother's side are not boding well with their health, and it's seemingly the same conditions that my mother had. I don't want to see them suffer like this towards the latter ages. Bittersweet was my mother's birthday, in which she celebrated 55 years of her spirit being remembered. The same day which my girlfriend's mother also passed. Egun was still remembered, regardless.

So many things, so many thi...oh yeah! I finally got my pots back (warriors), but I need to get my ilekes, QUICK!!! I can begin to continue on my path that is oddly and strenly challenged by my Igbo of a father. He just now toldme about my middle name, not knowing that I knew some tidbits about it. Funny that the same thing I am now going towards matches a spiritual connection with my name (Nwosu - son of the Osu, considered a demi-god/omo Oya-child of Oya, considered a saint, or orisa...a demi-god). It will be interesting if I can be able to go to Africa and conclude my path towards enlightenment and soul-searching.


So many things...so ma...wait...Ok, so how about i'm more apt in my astrology now? My dreams are coming very strong. I even share my dreams with my sweetheart, and she shares with me. Some say it's turning up as a 5-year for me in numerology, but also in terms of Osun coming around the bend to help my spiritual path.

My locs are long as hell now!

I've met a wonderful woman, and we struggle at times. However, she helped me through a lot of shit, (as well as my Ifa family) and she's been the inspiration behind half of my works.

I've never cried so much in my life...maybe after my mother's passing years ago. But a damn relationship will do that to you, as this one did me soooo bad. Life lessons learned.

Umm, I have more, but I think I'll just put them out as they go. I'm just ready for 2010. Isn't everybody? I have my shoes on...maybe I should wait to damage '10s behind if done wrong. let me give this new decade a try. Man...I'll be 30 next year?!?!?!

"Memo To My Mother"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here's #10 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, Tx

This bitter winter wind whistles
Calls like she did in volume
Offering me an early sleep
To wake up in the morning
And give me gifts
On a day that I now can't stomach
Where I turn a head
And cough
At the physical abuse given
To celebrate a dismantling of histories
And customs
And cultural significance
Now I receive these Maroon and White Texas A&M sweaters
And nice fighting games
And toys that revolve around justice
And watch Sparkle
Wondering what would I eat all day
If the Aggies would win against the "Golden Domers" of Notre Dame
If they would get over the burgundy and gold spearheads of Florida State
And what entails to me getting these things
Now that I believe in nothing more
Than what she was showing me subliminally

Then I recall when she had me with her at the library at "The Hill"
And I'd go to the fourth floor
Digging my heels deep in Greek mythology
Sitting in silence
To myself
Wondering about frank Athena Franklin
And Kool Hercules
Mixing my hip hop beat boxing
With my knowledge kicking steeze
She loved the fact that I could usurp books
Like Gwendowlyn Brooks does short poems
Noted for Ali's talk and Frazier's hooks
Gave me Friendware and Tandy candy
Information treats that I now see
Daily upon my seat here, before you all
On the damn Internet
Who knew that she would be so much like I was
So much like she was
So much like we once were?

And now she watches as she always did
Even when she was blind
And I had my greatest years in front
And my trials behind
In track and testimony in church
In basketball and performing poetry on stage
In saying how much I resemble Elder Abney
Although she never met the man with her sight
She supported me in baseball
And was on my ass about my grades
PTA
CYA
GPA
And even what would I be?
On NBC, or getting my degree?

Grew up a choir boy and playing bad guitar
Creating Lego themes and drawing art like stars
I was destined to draw and do French
Wear glasses and be a child-loving being
Become scholarly and maintain through the struggle
Help out my sister
Even when she caused the trouble
Support my relationship when it crumbles like bread crumbs
Withstand the weather, whether
Blistering hot or cold dead numb
Love my people here no matter the rights and wrongs
Love my heritage and own where I belong
Named me after my father and grandfather
Kept me as if I was just her own
And when she decided that she did just enough for me
She packed her things
And went home.

Rest with the ancestors, Dorcas Jo Okoro! Love you, mom!
12/7/54 - 1/11/04


© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"At The Hour"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here's #9 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, Tx


So we give thanks to those who wear
The coldest apparel with the general flair
Soldiers with those black boots
Lead by the orisa with that royal red suit
White trim, wielding the ax like he was wired on Grey Goose
Nights afire when lightning bolts get loose
This ain't Santa, it's Sango
Dark like the Congo
Called by the bataa songs sung like the bongo
Tapped and relaxed on the throne like bones
Chaperoned to the ocean floor with revenge to be honed
Left alone to be hung and return like Redeemer
Seen as a crafty one, some say the schemer
Scheduling the scene to be torched to the crisp
Blowing Osun a kiss, but it's Oya he misses
Others think he was born on just December 25th
Misnomered, honored by people frontin' folks with gifts
No wonder the try to confine his entry through the chimney
Simply cause they smoked the history of African memories
Entry to the logs of computerization
Numbered and blogged to synchronization
I'm hatin' not even our own wanna give him praise
Then wanna cry to Christ when all hell gets raised?
This nation did a good job, adorning the door knob
With the "Do Not Disturb" sign near the fresh floor mopped
Of ya past, trashing your ancestors with imagery
Of a pasty male, impaled on a fucking tree
Lucky me, I awake eyes open to mockery
Stopping the utter recycling of hypocrisy
And not to be outdone
there's always gonna be a sound shoutout to those
Who recognize the sun
Coming unfroze...but celebrate that bullshit I suppose
Give me the Nubian-nosed King in the crimson robe
And that's dope.

Kabiyesi Kabiosile


© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"Embattled Tastes"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)


Here's #8 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project


Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, Tx




If I had it like you
I'd take out all enemies
All who oppose me
That they would be nothing like me
Not anymore
I wouldn't have a scratch or scar on my image
No.
I would be impervious!
Then again
What would I be
Someone soulless gathering holes
Where I laid waste with bombastic
Rhetoric directed towards
Unarmed armies
Greeting me with
A pedestal
An forgiving stares

If I had it like you
I'd invite the world into my circle
Welcome them with open arms
Legs jet set in running
Rounding the campfire in games and joy
Releasing the inner child
Out towards me.
No.
I would be impenetrable!
Then again
What would I be
Too happy go lucky
Stuck on Utopia
Uptempo upbeat beatdowns
Of sunshine happiness
Unequaled to somber notes
Played on sax and trombone tones
Of those who jazz on hopeless
Nose coked smiley pokes dreams
And Failures
But


What is it we desire to be...
Or have

Then I have it like...

mixed emotions in a bowl.
Spoon please.

© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

'Seasons'

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here's #7 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project
Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, Tx

You'd wish that
Gifts and toys would be the
Holiday surprise you'd like to unwrap
And here comes an unraveling
Of a pairing
In a bow and tag
Dresses nice for show
Presented for presents' sake
Burning the yule log at all ends
With your hopes and dreams listed on papyrus
Aflame
And here goes
The tree of past regressions
Tinseled and garland gown
Star
All that glitters
Gone up in smoke.
Nothing merry but the end of
A strenuous wait.

© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"Clutter Heart"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here's #6 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, TX

Finding items lost
When placed openly in front
Ideas and love
© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"Final In Over Time"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)


Here's #5 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, TX


If one time wasn't enough
The heart dropped yet another close one
This time
No time left
Back and forth
Tied up
Close the whole time, now
Trailing
About a yard away
Sweat drips
Hands clench
It's in motion
Last ditch pass
One attempt
And
She
Deflected...
Me.

Game
Ends.

Love conquers.



© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"Coated Spirits"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here's #4 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, TX



A tongue tickle
Alongside your stomach
Feels good
Like spring rain on blazing gravel roads
Steaming, smelling like hard work and pathfinding
It's the greatest of tastes
To equate
Even in oddities
Cool/Hot

Dragging the bottom lip kiss
pressing on your back
Makes magic
Like cotton candy cumulus created in spins
Sweet and interwoven to the amorous eyes
It's the elevated elation
To attract
Odd in balance
Sticky/Slick

A hug forever
Connecting beating hearts
Underlines warmth
Like smiles and sorrow battling for souls
Joy and pain and memory confections
It's the wrapping unraveled
To purchase
With or without
Together or separate
Love/Life

© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"Breakdown of Words"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here is #3 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project.

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, TX




There's a brainstorm of questions
Pecking at the door like trickling drops
An insatiable inquiry that involves three words
Rain pours with its facial cloudiness
And then comes the tears
And blaming
And hurt
And regressions
And forgiveness
And realization
And...
The ands
The ifs
The buts
What if
There was no such thing as affection?
What if we all played hide and go seek the meaning of life
Under trees made with lies
And grass growing on regret
Drink from the streams of lust when we thirst
This sounds about right, yes?
So why are we banking on pain
To invest in death
Stock up experience but
Do this shit all over again?
I am broke.
No expense for forlorn loves
I give no credit to heartache
No IOUs to ex-mates
But somehow
There's always ands
And there's always an if
If there is no but
Would there be a spiritual lift?
I think people use "but" with another "t"
To get in between a crease of insecurity
Or false security
Or just a piece
But
People misuse "and", replacing "n" with the "d"
So they could combat solutions with more animosity
Tacking on terrible histories to price tag memories
Too high to pay for mentally
What if "if" isn't "if"?
But these two are needed for a shift
If you doesn't feel right...get uplifted
If he cheats... he drifted
If you're clicking on all cylinders...this is gifted bliss
Relationships stay in neutral sifting through bullshit
But
Not all vocab is necessary when loving is in action
So
Satisfy your conversations
With no ifs,
ands,
or buts.
And then you'll see clear skies in each other's eyes
If that's what the weather calls for in your souls
But remember...
Keep you speech short
Leave these words here in December.

© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"Under The Gun"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)

Here is #2 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project.

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, Tx



A spark of hope
Coming out of the wrong scope
Bullets be not a Microsoft Word insert
When paper is due
Instead street calls for exams
In hospital ambulances
And unmarked vans
War on the youth recruits death
At best you get a wounded body
But no purple hearts
With blunted dark brown lips
Crimson shade eyes realize
Cops, killers, Crips, and convicts
Bankrobbers, Bloods, ballplayers and
Babies bottoms freshly powdered
No older than the invention of gun powder
Now fall to the wayside of that position to hold powder
It's the money and the power
You'd think we're Trump instead we're apprentices to
Applications socially nettin' that "work"
Sometimes it's the sun times anger
Multiplied cliffhangers to story book broken hearts
Pages of life ripped apart by the shot
Cupid never used a silencer
The drama is like TNT when it explodes,
So to silence her mode
He mutes the mood with the magazine
Ebony entity emptying its Essence
Jet quick into jeune filles
Jealousy, longing, lust, and lies
Ex-boyfriends get the butt...of the gun,
Or hole...between eyes
Some even doubt fire when they aim
Robbin' children of years
In a red pool of fears
Parent's tears and wails
But of course, we're heroes when we
Pull triggers?
We solve equations with
Caliber precision?


When the next day comes
Could we not try to cut down ourselves?
If anything
Cock back
Shoot for the stars.


© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"Under Arrest"

I am honored to participate in a flourishing exercise of "30 in 30". This is a challenge, not a contest, presented to the few willing to take it upon their duties to create thirty poems in thirty days in anyway way, shape, or form, no strenuous and strict rules, starting December 15th, 2009, through January 13th, 2010. (Twitter hashtag #30in30)


Here is #1 of 30 of the "30 in 30" project.

Ifeanyi Okoro II (CopperSoul)
Houston, Tx



Smiling while black
The sun charges me for
Many stars shine without
Luster
Luxurious love for my
Rays pour out on the shoulders of
Smooth Sahara sand-colored souls
Man, we kiss each other and pass lineage
Through lips and struggling
Stressed like history
Through strainers
I maintain my brown
Down the Mason-Dixon
Up the Nile
Around downtown Houston
Ground Zero in Zimbabwe
Hey, sepia sensuality
Sends me there
I'm counting spirits on her digits
Play with her toes and nose
My baby becomes quick of knowledge
As the world slows
I'm rolling deep
Without the 'Lac and white walls
But deep in the red clay
My chart's a splay of things
So Aquariusly queer to veneer
I'm not seeing the future clear
Without a little mud covered aura
To show me my way home
Turn right
Go East
Keep walking
Shh...
The ancestors from below the waves are talking
Sending instant messages in maelstroms and
Hurricanes
Communicating with copper casings
We bullets with intelligence
Target redemption
Realign to hit our points of reference
Our destiny's real destination
Wrecking the frame of shame and
Picturing shattered distress calls
Being pieced again.
Straight from Mama's Gun
Motherland daughters and suns
Charging all of us
For
Smiling while black
Concealing contraband history
In our backpack and satchels
As we grapple with the long arm of the law
That was the unluckiest of the draw
I sketch
My life to be my wife
And we artistically die together
When we are satisfied with the ruling of
Guilty on all charges
No parole on freedoms?
I smile harder!
No probation on free will?
I laugh and show strength!
Hell, I'll lock myself up up in my culture's possession
I'll swallow the key
For there shall be no more of taken from me.





© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II

"Walking The Path"

Originally, this was a #30in30 piece, but I suddenly realized that this is a draft of something bigger.



We step down
A step
Which many take in vain
Painfully skipping histories and
Pages with each footprint
left on unstable sand
Catch them slippin' on demand for
They skip
Skip Skip
Skip on and run
Ruuuuuuuuun past their own legacies
making mockery on top speed
Running on empty
Full of shit
Dismissing their African traditions
my home is not a plate
My continent isn't mispronounced or separated by vowels mistakenly
This here is a clue to all those
keyless
clueless
less of a man or woman to
Skip skip Skip skip skip
down memory lane and
Fall and bust their asses
Cause how can you lace the truth
when you're trippin' amongst the masses
My great grandmother smothered brothers like
me, with baseball cards and Sunday dinners
near Dallas Cowboys games
My grandfather built bridges for me
with constructions and hearty laughs
haircuts from Gipson and go-carts on the back way path
My cousin did me a solid and we collaborated
on rap rock, Heavy D, Beastie Boys, and Run DMC
So we run from we...
My mother let it be known
that even until i was homegrown or foreign soil spoiled
my name will be said in all languages among the most high
to respect the women and don't tread on them on the low
and love with all my heart, and believe in the one
that casts shadows upon those who tarried, trampled
dragged, marched, stepped and never
Skipped in the unstable soil
now paved over by granite tough ancestry
Let my legacy have a leg up on me
Mentally
We no longer
skip skip skip
when we stand upon the shoulders of thee.


© 2009 Ifeanyi Okoro II