Editors note: There are three different, yet powerful experiences wrapped into this piece: Read the words only to Covenant first, then listen to the audio (scroll below) while reading the words, and then watch the entire video performance without looking at the words.
My thoughts collide, in the rec-yard of my mind’s prison
I really don’t speak at all, what you hear are the inmates screaming
These pages free-weights, forty-five plates
I’m really just exercising demons
And they think I changed my name to Tearz, because I cry across lines
Shit, I die across lines
My fonts change from cursive to gothic to wedding script then flat lined….
This wasn’t intended for entertainment
Personal scrolls and lost letters a most intimate recital
Passionate pages and piece ripped from my heart’s sacred Bible
My emotions have a way of taking control….
Because I played piano in the dark for months
just to hear my own notes echo off the walls of your soul
Your love was tone-deaf…no harmony, no melody
Your bass lines never changed….
My jazz music the soundtrack for relationships that started dysfunctional
And ended estranged
And all I ever had in this world was empty pages…
So I composed to the rain stopped,
Til’ all my pain stopped
Through the random beat of gun shots
I prayed this out on my knees every night before I went to sleep
That’s why I skipped church on Sunday’s
And testified in Coffee shops
These notebooks really hymnals full of songs for lonely lovers
Turn the lights out, watch these words take life
You’ll find my heart beats through the covers
And I lost faith back when life killed my dreams…..
Underneath these streetlights tears stream
Yet through it all, I still learned to write and dream….
Since way back when roses were read and violets were blue
Before my thoughts grew from seeds and mutated
And my poetry started to trouble you
I still bleed to give my emotions a voice and clear the smog from my skies powder blue
Until the clouds scream my name…
Until my girlfriend’s parents see that I’m more than just
I learned to write and dream at the exact same time, transfer the images down my arm
This whole piece is the result of rapid hand movement
I learned to write with broken fingers, and to find comfort in the soulful lyrics
Of blues singers
My lifestyle is obsessive compulsive, lit candles with therapeutic rituals
My contents under pressure aerosol my thoughts
I only speak to exhale graffiti murals
For a world with no appreciation for art..
On the roof top drinking Easy Jesus, high as angels
We were, “down for whatever”
Until that shot gun ripped through his North Face coat
And all you saw was the blood and the feathers.
And it was I with the ripped shirt and the two pair of jeans
It was I who ain’t ate in three or four days
My hunger starved my nutritional dreams
And it was I with the sheets in the window
Frozen in alcoholic leans
So these pieces, my pages origami to form, waffle cones at night
Just to support my thirty-one “I” screams
And my lifestyle built to struggle and dream so my character streams
And…… my inner child?
My inner child was in the back of your class eating crayons
Just trying to add some color to his fantasies.
View “Covenant” as Spoken Word: