beach of night.

there is nothing but darkness here.

darkness in the sky. 

darkness under the feet. tangible darkness. 

little grainy pebbles of darkness that slide between the fingers that try to hold them.

its ominous and foreboding. a slump of world with no sun to guide the lost. 

and so its inhabitants wonder without purpose. without cause. thus, they are a meaningless people. 

but few find reason. what they cannot see, they hear. 

life crashing against the darkness somewhere far off into the unseen.

following nothing but their own desire to see something, to know something, to find the world anew, they wonder purposefully.  on a mission. 

following sounds. learning the texture of that which blinds them. that which binds them. 

their heavy, unremovable dark is bearable but old and unfulfilling. 

these that seek the other find something more.

amidst the unrelenting nothingness, they find the ocean.

an ocean of light. bright, inviting, cutting light. it covers the black ground with a crash to prove its worth and power just to recede to show its slow hand to anger.

the thirsty find this lake of light and submerge themselves within never to be seen by the night again.  some sink to the bottom and touch the black soil beneath. some float at the top. others swim around simply elated to know something other than nothingness. 

here we can see everything. we are not blind. we are not ignorant. our light cuts the night. it is our beacon. it is our refuge. we are no longer lost for this light has shown us everything. it holds life. it is life.

oh, me? i walk atop the lake of light, for someone must bring the thirsty to the drink. 

full circle.

i believe in Karma fully.
"Give and it shall be given unto you[..]," so says the Bible. i like to think that this also applies to the negative we feed into the world.

ie: i was a total dick to my step-father. entirely. though we never got along in my childhood, i can look back now and see the error of my ways. i was wrong a lot of the time. made his job that much harder for no reason. (but i was still a damn good child. don't trip.) and now, i'm receiving the same treatment from the man i probably inherited such a trait from. Living with Tarrance sr has become something of a nightmare. the Devil deceives with creature comforts. its not until we accept his gifts that he begins his torture. i have learned my lesson. he is not the man i had hoped. he is not a man i wish to associate myself with. he is hardly a man i'd wish to introduce to my children. and certainly nothing of the kind of man i'd wish to emulate.

i have humbly apologized to my Dad (Herbert James Moore II) and am currently trying to sever intimate tides with my father (used lightly(Tarrance Bernard Foster Sr.)).

ie2: Tarrance (now known simply as Sr.) has four children. he raised none. recently he went to check on his 17 year old daughter in Gary, Ind and was surprised, to say the least, to find that she was with child. in what could possibly be known as the most mature moment of his life, he decided to take the girl and her baby and bring them here, to vegas, with him. though this is a great and honorable thing to have decided,  helping another lost soul escape the pit of Gary, he has no clue how to raise a baby...yet alone a teenage girl. having never raised a child or even been in the presence of the same person for more than three years consecutively, this is going to show him what hes been avoiding for all these years. for once in his life a father will be a dad, even if it is to his grandchild. and its about goddamn time. deadbeat.

tread lightly, world. your ills do come full circle. 

a hard day's night

Finally able to rest, our young hero sits and props his leg up on the row of seats he finds refuge on. he can tell his foot is swollen, aside from the constant tingling, his show is much tighter. stomach empty. his current savior, an ipod, flashes its impending death. his only company, an outdated cell phone, mimics the action.
The young man is weary. rest occupies his every thought beyond all else. but he knows sleeping on such bus is ill-advised. so, instead, he stares out his window.
cars fly past him. neon lights. street lights. bars boasting their best deals. fast food spots trying to outwit the next.
no one is walking.

the world passes him by. the defeated youngster knows he cannot stop it; in fact, he wishes he could hurry the process. he'd much rather be in a time ten years from now where his feet can rest and his mind can work.
he is smart indeed, though his nose is green.

the lights continue to gleam through the glass. people come and go on and off the bus, each making sure to thank the driver. he watched them all. their mannerisms, facial expressions, posture and the like. he created stories for them, living their lives was much easier than his own.

he loosened his tie.

felt anxiety creep up and instantly began his breathing excerises. five second intervals of inhaling and exhaling both. he needed this technique.

finally, he scribbled a few thoughts on his worn notepad, tucked it away again and pressed the button to tell the driver to stop.


(unfinished. forgive the spelling.)

coming: the greatest gift.

well, i had written some of it but grew bored, i guess.

so i'll revamp the idea then retry.

but what im focusing on is this idea of a successful black male in either vegas or nyc. something like carrie and her crew but with a different backdrop. 

things are happening to me blah blah blah. 

we all know most of you really dont care.

searching for air.

i am tired. i am stressed. its hard to breathe.

i have much to say though, just not tonight, im afraid.

what i do want to say, though, should be much more important.

since i am no longer writing notes on facebook, i need a new public outlet. if you're any kind of friend of mine then you have enough brain to know that i mean that i will use this blog for just that. 

of course, i will be keeping some for my archives so i can publish a book of short stories as Ibi-ann and i have done for poetry.

Steven King has a noted 100 short stories. i've got just as many so i dont see why not.

thoughts?

dear God,

yo. Big G. 

what the fuck is up man? did i do something wrong? 

you tried to keep me in dc, or let the devil do so. 

you took my phone and my car.

but why?

though the solitude is wonderful, its...unwanted.

i miss a few people, actually. 

im not complaining or anything im just wondering.

i mean...i need help. just tell me why so i can do what needs to be done

am i not working hard enough on noir? am i not supposed to stay in vegas? 

just say something man. stop with all the subtweets.

oh. and thanks for this Roots album. its really what i needed.

                        listening,

                                       a disgruntled believer. 

leading from behind

ive been very down on myself lately.

i feel like a failure.

everyone is graduating this year. class of 2010.

while im hardly a sophomore. 

everyone will have their master's and steady jobs

while i'll still be trying to get my undergrad.

and today, i found, that that endeavor will be even further pushed back due to rules that i cannot bend.

but.

then i think, all the great leaders of our time didnt graduate either.

though i do need my degree to capture my goal, i can still be a leader in my generation. right?

i havent become irrelevant yet, have i? God, i hope not. 

there is an anime i watch, "Naruto."

the story of a demon infested boy dying to become greater than himself to prove himself.

he wants to become the leader of his village to prove to everyone that he isnt just a derelict.

quickly, he grows stronger than everyone, learns more powerful "justu" and then leaves the village to train even harder.

upon his return, he finds that everyone in his, so to speak, ninja-class has graduated and begun their careers as ninja when he hasnt done the same. though he fells like a failure and left behind, he reminds everyone that he, solely, can protect the village.

odd that i compare myself to this magna.

i wont be seen a failure for much longer. 

i will catch and surpass my class, i must if i plan to lead the next generation. 

i might be behind everyone else but, for some reason, i feel as though i have accomplished more than most. (but im starting to feel like im just running in circles.)

i am not satisfied here. in this position. 

i must move.

If langston did it then why cant i?