Erode

It was a love requited
but years too late.
She decided after the fire was out
to put fuel on the flames.

He knew she loved him;
silence erodes the truth
carving a canyon between them.
She shouts her love across,
but the only reply is
her own muffled echo.

untitled

If we only had one kiss left,
how would you spend it?
If today was our last day,
how would you end it?
Would you succumb to the pressure
extinguishing loves light?
Or would you keep grasping at straws
putting up a fight?
Destiny has no feelings.
Fate has no qualms.
They will stare at me blank faced
and pry you from my arms.
Because I love you
I know this can last.
Because I'm crazy
I continue to hold fast.

The Wandering 3rd Eye...

Let me start by saying this: I love my girl.  She means the world to me.  We've been together for 4 years and I've never been happier than I am with her.  We're getting married in July (one of the easiest decisions I've ever had to make).  There are just 2 issues:

1. When I decided to settle down, that didn't make any of the other fine women in the world less fine.

 2.  I didn't to remove the part of my brain that says, "Go get that now!!!" when I see one of the aforementioned fine women. 

I am still a man, and still a hunter at heart.  The social pressures of what is expected of me in a relationship wage war with the biological responses to the world around me.

So what"s a man to do? You love your woman, but you find it hard to resist the call of the wild.  Fellas, the answer is never to cheat. Always talk to your lady about your feelings.  It's the only sure fire way to stay out of real trouble.  Not that it will be an easy conversation to have, but it necessary.  I am sure that this is not new information for any of the fellas that are reading...even those of us that cheat and cheat and cheat, we know that we shouldn't.  So then, why am I writing this?  Obviously the problem is that men are all dogs and cant control themselves.  Right, Ladies? Wrong.  And that very attitude is why I am writing this.  Women need to better understand what men go through before casting all of us off to sea for being unworthy.  And while I would never be as bold as to speak for all men, I am hoping that the perspective of one man can help you get a clearer picture of the male gender as a whole.

My whole life I've heard complaints about double standards.  I've heard the complaining, the crying, the arguing and the fighting. I, frankly, have had enough.  These stereotypes are not all creations of the male propaganda specialists who envision a world run by the iron fist of a man.  Many are in direct correlation to the natural responses that men and women have to the world around them.  The biggest battle in that war revolves around this double standard:

"Men that sleep around are pimps.  Women that sleep around are hoes."

As fucked up as it is, this is true. (pauses for a moment while every woman reading either logs off or curses me out)  The man and the woman as biological creature were designed differently.  We see the world differently because our biological gifts and limitations allow to impact the world in distinctly different ways.  This then shapes our psychological growth.  This establishes social constructs and gender roles and all of the things that "bind" us together today.  This applies to all arenas of life...including sex.

Biologically, the sexual experience is very different for men and women.  Men penetrate women.  Women are probed by men.  Men deposit their seed.  A man takes nothing of a woman away with him after the experience.  In its most natural state, the woman is always left with a part of the man.  From a biological standpoint, sex could not be more opposite for men and women.  This makes complete sense, since the purpose of sex is to procreate, and nature seems to be quite fond of springing life from the most contrary of circumstances. 

From there, the biological shifts to the psychological.  The question becomes, "How do I feel about what just happened?"  Because a man, physically takes nothing away from a sexual encounter,  there is no guarantee that the encounter will be meaningful for the man beyond that moment.  For the man, it becomes a choice of how he will allow the experience to impact him.  You wanna know why he didn't call you?  Because you never made it past the physical level, in his mind.  He doesn't feel attached to you or your sexual encounter beyond that of a physical release.  This is how we, as men, baffle women.  They don't seem to understand how you can say you love your girl, but still bang side chicks.  Well, when he says "I don't love them hoes!", he doesn't.  Now, there is no excuse for hurting your lady (which is why i don't cheat), but ladies, don't ask if he loves her.  He doesn't. She's just some chick.

Now, I will not be so bold as to speak for any woman and her sexual experience, but I will say that I have never met a girl that was as physically cavalier as a man that was not screwed up in the head.  There is a shift that happens in a woman's mind when they try to "have sex like a man."  These women are hoes (that goes double for all you sex in the city imitators out there).  It does sadden me to write those words, but it is the truth.

The conflicts in out biology have led to conflicts in our psychology.  Those differences have led to a major flaw in the social development of the male-female relationship.  Our society values monogamy (which no male propagandist would ever agree to...less women? really? no thanks).   1 man, 1 woman; although nature would suggest that ratio to be outside the design of our species.  There are at least

If I had to guess, I'd say that a lot of women are saying to themselves (or to their computer screens...or to their boyfriends), "Well, if it's that damn hard, then don't get in a relationship! Then you can have all the sex you want!" I invite those people to reread the 1st paragraph.  You cannot negate the influence and power of love.  Men value love, we just don't value all sex equally.  Hence, the conflict.  I love my girl. I really do.  But, how do I resolve the conflict between my body and my heart?  My heart says I'm OK. My mind tells me I'm missing out.  History says I shouldn't have to choose.  My girl tells me don't even think about it.

What is the answer?  (The hell if I know...)

Cc Every Girl That You See See 'Round Town...

Most of us have a singular goal in this lifetime (whether we'd like to admit it or not): to find a love that can make you determine that your life was truly worth living.  I mean, if you think about life in the terms of the day to day madness, it seems to be an itemized list of problems: bills, stress, bills, work, bills, traffic, etc.  But, somehow, love allows us to multiply the negatives and create a positive.

We are surrounded by testimonies of love's potency and potential.  Our movies, television and music are permeated with the tales of those on the quest to find, preserve or regain love.  But why?  For every tale of a love that lasted forever, there are at least 5 tragedies of a love whose roots would not take.  The odds are against us.  Humans are not biologically wired to mate for life.  There are twice as many women as men.  There's a 50% chance you'll get divorced...that is if your even lucky enough to find a partner to commit to AND who is willing to commit to you.  This is why those that search for love openly are deemed crazy.  And frankly, they are.

On paper, love makes no sense.  But in life, love makes all the difference.  It can be the difference between something as simple as someone having a good day or something as major as someone deciding to take their own life.  Though its effects are seen, they aren't quantifiable, which is why we all want it.  We want to have it and feel its effects.  But at the same time we want to dissect it; diagnose it; harness it; bend it to our will.  The only way we can attempt these is to, first, have it in our possession. 

The title of this blog is, as many of you have figured out, from Andre 3000's verse on the song International Playa's Anthem.  His is the story of a man that has found that love we all search for...or so he thinks.  His friend takes this opportunity to drop some last minute advice on him:

I know you ain't a pimp, but pimp, remember what I taught you

Keep yo' heart, 3 stacks, Keep yo heart

I'm guessing this friend is a player of sorts; one who operates under the ideology that the only way to make it out alive is to keep your heart under wraps. They wont let these women get too close for fear that they will do the inevitable and destroy the man from the inside.  But the question remains: How happy could a person possibly be living by those limitations?  How could you ever reach for the sky, and yet give yourself such a low ceiling?

I've never met a truly happy player.  All of them have a story about the one that got away; a tale of love lost (often by their own deceit) can scar a man for life.  3000's friend mistakenly believes that he is keeping his heart by holding it hostage, when in actuality he is killing it by prevent it from serving its purpose: loving.  I would argue that the only way to truly keep one's heart is to give it away to the one you love.  There is no guarantee that you wont be hurt, but I can promise you will not ask, "What if?"

"Keep yo heart"...

I Wanna Rock Right Now...

Black Girls Rock.  Yeah I know, and I agree.  Black women have been pillars of our community and their impact and prowess in the fields of academia, business and the world in general is undeniable.  Last night BET held a celebration of black women that had my twitter feed jumping.  Everything from testimonials to harsh critiques of the evenings performances came pouring through my phone.  At the end of the night, I was sure of one thing: BLACK GIRLS ROCK!!!!!!

I didn't watch the show, so I have nothing to add to the critique of the festivities themselves.  I did, however, have a critique on our society and culture with the following tweet:

So when is the Black Men Rock special?  Oh that's right...y'all couldn't give less of a fuck about us.

Needless to say, that comment was not well received.  I don't really care that people didn't like it, but I do take exception to the "backlash" because most of the people that disagreed misunderstood my point.  Here is my attempt to explain myself...

First, my language was harsh to accentuate the fact that this was one of those "I was joking, but kind of serious" moments.  The actual mood of that tweet was not as angry as it came across.  That's my fault as the author.  Bad Diction.

The thing I would like to point out is that at no point did I bash black women or the celebration.  I merely pointed out that while this went on for black chicks, there will be no such celebration for black men; reason being, the overall attitude this country has toward black men is that we are lazy and undeserving.  I, often times, am led to believe we would not be worth the time and effort of a celebration of that magnitude.  As a black man, it sucks that even though the former doesn't apply to me, this is how the world sees me when I leave my house (until I prove them wrong).

I understand that this is not very different from how black women can be seen, but there are books, movies, websites, etc. designed with the purpose of building up the black woman (and sadly it's only because black women have grown into a powerful consumer group).  This is great...for black women.  Sadly, over time the strength of the black woman seems to be put to more use strangling the spirit of the black man. 

"Niggas ain't shit!" (which really means we are not shit...which doesn't make sense. Unless shit is something you want to be...but i digress) I hear this phrase twice as much as i hear the opposite, and sadly, this has become a self fulfilling prophesy.  The thing I've found a lot of women (of all races) do not understand about men is that without purpose and encouragement, we will see no point in trying.  We are creatures driven by our egos, and the best way to get us to succeed is to affirm us when have met your expectations, and to challenge us when we fall short.  This is who we are and how we are wired; if you don't like it, feel free to switch teams.

Take a second to think about all the positive affirmations and images of black men that you come across on a daily basis.  They are few and far between.  Our story is not told.  Our triumphs are not celebrated (I hate to bust your bubble ladies, but your man not cheating IS an accomplishment.  These chicks are tossing the cooch around like a frisbee and it's too easy to forget where you are and stick your hand out. If being faithful was easy, everybody would do it).  According to history, the last black man worth anything was Martin Luther King, Jr...and they shot him.  Not exactly the best environment for an ego driven creature to thrive.

Now take into account the damage we do to each other.  Our fathers abandon us.  Our mothers see our fathers in us, and resent us.  Our teachers shortchange us. Our coaches exploit us.  And after all that, we have to grow up and look at the woman we love and say, "I don't know," or "I don't have enough," or "Maybe next time," or "I'm trying as hard as I can," only to hear:

That's not good enough. You're not good enough.

 This is not my story alone; there are others with different titles, characters and endings.  But the result is the same: a shell of what a man should be, watching a world, where queens no longer need kings, go by.  Go through that, and then tell me that my bitterness is unjustified.  The fact is, it's not.  It comes from the frustration that if I have a son,  the only person telling him he rocks could be me.  There's no way toknow if my voice can cut through all the dissenters out there.

As I said before, I agree; black girls rock.  But do black men rock?  The general consensus I feel is that you all out there don't think so.  And maybe right now we don't,

but we could...

The why's and what for's...

This is my blog.  Some of you reading may know me, and others may not.  However, who I am is not as important as why I feel so compelled as to start this blog.  At the root of its very foundation, the idea that there are people out there that care enough about what I think to search the interweb for my ideas is conceited and a bit self righteous. Yet here I am. 

But why?  I guess the only answer is that if one person care about and believes in an idea, then that idea is more than worth sharing.  I exercise this mantra on a daily basis via twitter (jpnt17), but lately some of my debates and ideas with friends (and strangers) have outgrown the allotted 140 characters.  Rather than give up on the painting, I'll chose to grab a larger canvas.

I am a person interested in the world at large, and this blog will reflect that interest.  From music, to sports, to love, to life, I will just take what on my mind and spit it out.  Although we live in a time where such honesty and forthrightness is frowned upon, this path is the only one that allows me to still look in the mirror and like what i see.  The $1,000,000 is always do I want you to like me, or do I want to like myself.  As I add to this blog, my answer to that should become glaringly clear.

I lastly, I would love if this monologue became a dialogue.  My grandmother always says, "God gave you two ears and one mouth for a reason. Listen twice as much as you talk."  If I'm wrong, let me know.  If I'm full of it, let me know.  If you agree, let me know.  The journey will be more fun knowing you're here.  I'm looking forward to it.

Peace.