Waging War

Love Isn't Enough

Generational Damage

Due to old racists,

I was raised to present many faces

to the world –

each one appropriate

for the times

and places.

Told I was only allowed to be myself

inside of safe spaces

because it might hinder my progress to be honest

about who I am.

Not that they don’t immediately see

in front of their eyes another black man.

No,

the goal was to have me be perceived

as different;

not like the rest

of these angry street gorillas

beating on our chests.

The propagandized King Kongs

with our giant ding dongs

out to ring the bells of their

precious

fair belles…

False narratives culminating in the demise of

Emmett Till.

You see,

they believed putting the average American at ease

was key

to a black male’s survival,

having lived through the times

when we were strung up from trees

and hunted down in the streets

by mobs with rifles!

Images seared

in the collective memory of themselves

and their peers.

Bygone,

but legitimate fears

they thought wise to instill in their children.

With me,

they didn’t understand what they were building –

an often cold

disconnected soul.

Fragments of a man

self-taught at appearing whole.

Even those who’ve known me the longest,

whose love for me is the strongest

have never held all the pieces

to my puzzle.

-HymnAgen

It's Just Fear

Sometimes we allow
no one to get near;
call it self-respect
when it's really just fear.
Fear of getting hurt again.
Fear of being played.
Fear of having
our trust betrayed...
-HymnAgen

Heart and Mind

There is constant dialogue
between my heart and mind.
It is never a one-way conversation.
Most times my heart defers to my mind,
but my mind is humble enough
to let my heart lead on occasion.
-HymnAgen

Limbo

Limbo

I know purgatory well.
For I have dwelled

between Heaven and Hell
far too long.

Pretended nothing at all was wrong.

Passionlessly treaded along

between happy and unhappy… 

Stuck in the morass

of my complacence –

like being too at home
living in yo momma's basement 
Yes, I know purgatory very well, indeed.

-HymnAgen

Changes

Changes

How did this rope
wear down to a thread,
eagerness devolve
to this apathy?
And when did the things
I have since come to dread
stop being the things
I sought happily? 
-HymnAgen 

The Lost Ones

The Lost Ones

There is a place

between Heaven and Hell

where some human hearts dwell,

where neither anger nor joy is felt.

There is no passion.

There is no neglect or interaction.

You don’t know where you stand

because you’re always on shifting sand.

You’re neither sure footed nor collapsing

under the weight of your own thoughts.

You’re just trapped.

Seemingly caught

in a net of your own making.

You just want to feel –

to know the hopes

your parents sold you are real

and attainable, and not just fables

and fairy tales.

You don’t know hatred or love.

You just know numbness

as if you’d been drugged

with a powerful anesthesia.

You are the walking dead

lost inside your own empty heart and head

wondering why you ever said,

“I do.”

-HymnAgen

Make Up Sex

(Visual art by @bktheartist)

Make Up Sex

She enjoys the drama -
insecurities demanding
reassurance he still wants her.
In its wake he lies awake -
heart and mind in a debate:
What about this doesn't scream,
"I just sold out?" 

-HymnAgen

Spinal Discord

Spinal Discord

It was a process 
that took time
for the heart to reveal to the mind
they were no longer in accord -
that they no longer shared 
the rewards of commitment. 
The heart had long since withdrawn,
and the mind had grown indifferent. 
The only tether keeping them together 
was the spine.
For they'd convinced themselves 
over time 
there was honor in its uprightness. 
Yet, the sparkle has dimmed in the iris,
the heart continually aches 
and the mind compartmentalizes. 
And the honor of the spine 
can never ever stand 
in place of joy.
-HymnAgen

Gasping For Heir

Gasping For Heir

I wish my father
had lived to see
the man I have
grown to be.
That I might have
allayed any doubts
on how I'd turn out
before he accepted
the grave.
For if his spirit
can see this plane
he'd bear no shame
from me
save my one
disappointment:
That I didn't
water my seed
with the teachings
imparted to me
through his example.
And though we
have since
made amends
and he has
forgiven my sin,
we shall never be
as life intended.
For this I accept
my life sentence
of never being
called "Pops"
by the fruit
having roots
in mine's tree,
the way mine was
accustomed to
from me...
-HymnAgen

'Til

The Tin Man

No Amends

No Amends


He called to her...

but all she heard

was echoes of her pain

resembling her name

drowning in the sound

of shattered trust...

-HymnAgen 

Pain Relief

Pain Relief 

I am imprisoned by the religion 
of Black manhood...
Drowning in the stereotypes 
of masculinity... 
Choking on the pride 
I was trained to never swallow...
Repressing the expression 
of the feelings within me...
The written word has been my savior
from my fukked up paradigm...
Relief valve for all the pressure 
manhood builds inside my mind
preventing me from bursting 
in psychotic episodes,
slowly easing hurting 
with each pen stroke of my prose...

-HymnAgen

Two, Afraid

Two, Afraid

I am

a dichotomy -

a prose writer
who struggles

with honesty.

I push
and I pull
betwixt light
and dark –

tug of war
between spilling
and hiding
my heart.

My affliction
is omission.

I withhold.

Cannot relinquish
all the contents
of my

conflicted

soul.

So I mete them
like rations.

Austere
with my passions.

Frugal
with expression

as with ink.

Too concerned
with what
prospective readers
think.

‘Though
in the blink
of an eye,

thoughts
I do not supply
might have saved
a tortured soul
from the brink
of a precipice…

calling them back
from the edge
by feeling

they are not alone,

but my selfishness
won’t let them
into my dome –

allowing them
to teeter

because I’m too afraid
to allow any one
reader

to see

everything

that

I am…

a dichotomy –

a prose writer
who struggles

with honesty.

I withhold.

- HymnAgen

Prudence (Can't Let Her In)

Point of No Return

Failing Fortitude

Kryptonite