I remembered the first time I stepped into a church—it was and seemed to foreign to me. I never experienced god before. I was lost—out in the open. My mother never taught us anything about the lord or Christ. I always felt I had an unknowing relationship with him. It was always there or he was always there to protect me and guide me. I always felt a presence;the lords presence. He brought me a mighty long way.

Poetry and music has always been there also. My cousins and uncle had done it for years while I watched them write, and rap. Now look at me—I’m doing the music and I have no clue what they’re doing with their music now. Maybe they have stopped—called it quits. I can’t do that. My god has given me this gift through poetry , music, and writing.

Writing is a powerful tool; instrument. It can change people’s lives,destroy people’s lives. It’s theoroputic , magical, spiritual. It sends messages-it kills, it destroys, it heals, it reveals and exposes what’s not in the open. It can be closed in; hidden, secretive agenda. Writing is my voice forever. Writing is permission to speak freely without restrictions or limits. Perhaps in some instances there are a lot of restrictions that other writers allow.They have no barren or a care in the world to tell the truth. They conceal it in a room,a chester box-locket. Most especially music just put their thoughts a side replaced by other people’s thoughts. They have no identity, place or position as far as writing goes. They disappear. They copy cat fraudulent facts, and myths. It’s all made up in their minds, and existence.

I think about my friend and partner Hank. My main man “Hank Jones.” He was like another brother to me. Him and I share the same struggle with our mothers. His mom was hooked on crack-mines hooked on alcohol and lord knows what else. We lived next to each other. He had two sisters-I had two sisters. I liked one of his sisters. I forgot what her name was. I think Tanisha—the oldest sister.