If I Could See the World Atop a Mountain...

I see the world atop a mountain,
And all around it still,
On the verge of tipping its momentum,
And rolling down the hill.

Chancing balance suspensely,
Hanging in the measure of the wind,
Expectation of its toppling,
No true threat posed by its end
Even if there were it never would,
Even it it wanted to,
It never could...

The risk of it toppling
Purely mythological,
It never really stood,
Just scared speculations of potential,
The Little Earth That Could...

Suspended there in silence,
Or a lack thereof,
'Cuz what's the use of volume,
When there's no need to be heard?

I'm beheld in wonder,
In amazement outside of its walls,
That there's no concern inherent here,
Only the occasional pause

To have a look
A curiosity,
Enshrined in obscurity,
A mere distraction,
Diverting the attention,
Of the eye that gazes elsewhere
All, day, long...

I traveled to be different,
And look upon it from afar
Just to know what life is like
Outside the brightest shining star.

A need for curiosity,
Brought me to this booth,
To watch it lit in contrast,
And gaze in different angles' truth,

I feel as though I'm changing,
I don't think that I'm aloof
I just think I know the wisdom of
The Fiddler on the Roof.
-Akeem Lawrence, 12/25/08

Flying

To be part of the blue sky up above,
To elevate from this place, and rise up HIGH,
To flap my arms and look down, eyes wide with fear,
At how high off the ground I've gotten,
Is to really be flying.

To soar without fear of falling,
And be closer to the Unknowns of this World,
To float invincibly, parting the air I move through,
And the clouds through which I float,
Like a swimmer's stroke in the water,
Is to really be flying.

To be seen Black, streaking across Blue,
T-shaped, moving left to right across the sky,
In spurts of flapping and gliding alternately,
To be envied for being airborne by those on the ground,
Is to really be flying.

To be looked up to by the green trees,
Reaching for light with which to grow,
To hold the Sun that illuminates the Earth,
To transport planes and people across the Globe,
And hold the Souls from below me behind my Pearly Gates,
Is to really be flying.
-Akeem Lawrence, 6/8/08

Armageddon

As I stood still, the world around me grew old,
And I could see forward and backward in time,
While light shone from my eyes,
Fire emanated from my nostrils,
Water spilled from my tongue,
And Wind whipped from my fingertips.
As I stood immune to these elements,
All around me was changed,
Spiraling out of control
While I remained the same.

In the center of a wheel,
Things spun round in a circle,
Centrifugally rotating clockwise,
And being pushed further outward,
Until finally the young reached the edge,
And were tossed off by their momentum,
Sent flying through the air,
Arms flailing wildly,
Hands grasping at nothing,
And aged to old,
While moving away,
Leaving me alone,
To watch the light turn dark,
And back again,
As the Sun set and rose once more.

At its core the earth shifted,
The soil was pierced and broken,
As new growth pushed up,
And sidewalks cracked,
Making buildings collapse,
The pavement broken,
And revealing the Hand of God,
As It pushed forcefully through,
To take back all that It had created.
-Akeem Lawrence, 5/25/08

I Am Cool

I Am Cool,
I am undefined,
I am funny without you knowing why.

I look good, smell good, and feel good,
And make you feel good too.

I set trends you follow,
And move on as you catch up.
I make your sister swoon,
And your mother laugh in delight.

I have your little brother
Watching my every move,
Teaching him how to be me,
So that my style can stay alive.

I am The Essence,
A model for all that I encounter.

I am a mystery,
With no clues to solve it.

I walk cool, talk cool,
And just be myself,
While you try to follow...
I Am Cool.
-Akeem Lawrence, 5/25/08

The Slothful Straggler

Just a mere pawn in life's quest,
A novice at this expert game of chess,
I slowly wondered what lay at my behest.
Just one pawn among all the rest,
I wondered slowly what should befall me
When I lay to rest.

Moving slowly, as all about me whizzed by,
I began to think that I should cry,
But not a tear fell from my eye,
As I knew, no good, would it do I.

Slowly struggling to run this race,
I begged for mercy from this staggering pace,
And hoped another might take my place.
As I looked aside and saw a face,
And what a thrill he gained from the chase,
I knew my soul could never be replaced.

So slowly, but surely, I staggered on,
As if another picture Picasso had drawn,
And took my place amongst the shapes,
Until the Lord my soul should take,
And in the clouds of Heaven I should wake...
-Akeem Lawrence, 5/8/08

The Soul Singer

Marked by the downbeat of the bass drum,
The upbeat of a snare forces swaying,
A cymbal, riding, marries the two together,
And singing smoothes them out,
Driving the music that is playing.

Spoken first among the black,
Moving to a crowd of white,
Starting on the left,
And moving to the right,
It's more popular now than ever before,
A new version of four decades before.

But why only now, can it play?
Was it not accepted yesterday?
Looks should be separate from the music.
It's heard, not seen,
Or is it now seen, not heard?

Perhaps, I'm wrong about it,
But I'm pretty sure, I'm right,
The struggle is no different,
Whether you cross the ocean overnight.

Since looks don't matter,
It's not fair to criticize,
I just wonder why music's not legitimized,
Until it's seen through familiar eyes.

It's named for its effects on your soul,
As the horns fill, within you, a gaping hole,
Which comes from real pressures.
So light, yet so bold,
Making simple seem the best,
Not as serious as all the rest.

The song plays over and over, on repeat,
Causing inspiration, lifting off the feet,
Movement is essential,
In all parts of the temple.

I can't help but hear it,
Again and again, driving my thoughts,
Yet blocking them out,
But it's okay,
They won't get stuck that way.

It's helped to clear my mind, and to relax,
As it has for many others,
Since its first imprint on wax.
Not just once, but over many years,
It has comforted many fears...
Cheers!
-Akeem Lawrence, 5/9/08

Talent

In spite of my admiration for you, we cannot be together.
Destiny has in mind another fate.
My futile efforts to become closer to you,
Only remind me of other, more feasible suitors,
Whom I must relinquish you to.

I know your demands, and strive to meet them,
But they are such elusive transformations for me.
You desire those youthful, handsome, and conventional,
While I am just a priceless old man, robbed of his youth.

We can attempt to change things,
And be together, but that would only be falsely pretending,
Pretending that the ending will change.
Our relationship parallels life,
So I admire you from a distance,
And feign living a life that I don’t really live…
That us together is a reality,
And my loneliness is a dream.

The tragedy of our relationship is that you are Talent,
Not Love, though I sometimes wish the opposite,
Because maybe then you would be easier to court.
-Akeem Lawrence, 4/22/08