Maverick's Law

Nothingness

2017-10-01T06:40:00.001-07:00

I search for inner peace
In places not yet found
I sit in mental darkness
Illuminated by fear
I envision love
Even though love is blind
Drawn to you
Through time and space

Perception

2016-10-14T07:25:00.000-07:00

An empty room

Is never

Completely

Empty

Prey

2016-10-14T07:18:00.001-07:00

Move with purpose
As if your life depends on it

Time

2016-03-25T21:11:00.001-07:00

Over time you realize that time does not move with everyone. Some people are just destined to remain stagnate and for some odd reason are okay with that outcome. Chaos without organization is unorganized chaos. I try to live life as simple as I can, therefore minimizing unnecessary issues. When something comes into my inner circle that disrupts my chi then I retreat. Not from lack of fear but for self preservation. This is how I keep the balance that allows me to move forward through life and beyond. Take from it what you will but know that all moves are calculated and well thought out beforehand. Just like the spinning of the Earth I have to keep it moving and anything that attempts to disrupt that flow will be deflected. I am a provider meaning I cannot be concerned with nonsense nor pestilence. I look to the most high when I lack the strength to carry on. I am not worried about futile words that I know comes with my decisions because I walk with God and God walks with me.

Horizon

2014-12-22T10:38:00.000-08:00

The way life throws us curves it is a wonder we have not all found the nearest bridge and climbed to the top of the rail and leaped to our death. It's so difficult at times staying afloat without a life preserver. I attempt to stay focused on the good things but bad thoughts crawl there way back into my mental. So much pain and despair seeps from the cracks of the city like and open wound. The streets are blood red from the injustice we all endure. The media poisons our free will and continues to be a burden on our very own conscious. What's next? What now? Where do we turn? It's a challenge for all but together we can make a difference. I'm not some philosopher that spews knowledge for everyone to soak up like a sponge. I do however believe that there is a calm over the horizon. The question is how do we find it?

Beyond

2014-01-10T08:19:00.001-08:00

Eyes allow us to see only what our mind allows us to see. If you set limitations on your ability to dream you only tap into small areas of infinite space. Look out a window and some people may only see trees. If you look closer others may see the bark on the trees. Look further still and some may notice the bugs crawling on the tree or the different variations of the tree bark. If you have the ability to see, take the time to embrace all that the world has afforded you. Appreciate the little things and never sell yourself short. Look beyond what you are expected to see and take notice.

X

2014-01-09T08:58:00.003-08:00

Keeping my mind free to allow information to absorb.

Jan 2

2014-01-02T07:43:00.000-08:00

There is a thin line between resolutions and goals. I choose to keep mine to myself because I don't need to broadcast my personal goals. When it becomes global it can become more of a 'look at me' rather than attempting to better yourself. With that being said this year I do have goals that I personally want to accomplish. Many of the goals are a commitment to change. These are life altering decisions that I personally want to achieve. My grandmother used to say, "There is power in the tongue". I believe that this goes for both positive or negative thinking as well. If you bring negativity in your inner circle then that is what you will get back. This also includes negative people. Some people bring you down and it's sometimes hard to recognize that when your in that situation. If you are treading water and are still in the same place that you were when 2013 started, then is most likely time for you to make a change. If you believe it then you can achieve it. I believe in positive self talk and by saying daily affirmations I will reach my goals in 2014 and beyond. Don't talk about it be about it!

My Thoughts Are My Thoughts

2013-07-16T19:41:00.001-07:00

It is polarizing to me how the nation has become so divided. There seems to be an underlying issue of race based on an individual’s race. This case in my mind has never been about color for me. What’s right is right. I don't care if you are purple if you do something wrong you need to be punished for that act. I think people would have had a much different opinion if it had been their child. I am appalled that some people are so insensitive to this case. I think a case like this allows everyone to see how people really feel about themselves as well others from a different race, nationality, or class. People hide their true feelings but only they know what is in their heart. When you look in the mirror do you see a person pretending to be something your not? The ridiculous notion that this case was not about race is just that "ridiculous". The court of law suggests that it should be about the facts and the law but human nature suggest otherwise. If I see two people on a cliff and one is white the other is black who would I save first? There are many factors that would go into my decision but I can guarantee that color would not be one of the things I consider before I saved anyone. Do you think everyone feels the same? Probably not. I have been in a room and my friend says to me “do you realize that you are the only black person here?” I said “I guess I am.” I don't see color is my point. I am not oblivious that the world sees color so I have to be aware of that. Although I view it differently it is not that way for everyone. If someone can not relate or understand where a different race is coming from seek that knowledge. That is the difference between white and black. Blacks are expected to understand and identify or understand where white people are coming from to fit in. Some white people have not attempted to understand blacks nor have they cared to try. When someone speaks differently and verbally uses slang instead of talking down to them try to understand who they are. I get asked all the time, "do black people get sunburn"? Really? It is as if my I don't have real skin or something. It is a little more pigment but it is still skin nonetheless. It's not a secret that inner city schools may not be provided with the adequate tools for children to be placed on a level playing field of success. Why is it that because someone is different they are judged? Because someone does not speak correctly or at least "perceived" as speaking correctly they are not speaking proper? Slang is a synonym for (uneducated) to some people. It's not fair and it never has been and probably never will be. I speak from a person that has been racially profiled and harassed by cops and many other people. I walk a fine line in life because I know if I cross that line I am in trouble. I was taught from a young age don't put yourself in a situation that something can happen to you. Why is it that young black kids have to live in fear and change who they are to be accepted? Some people can turn it on and off. What I mean by that is have a different personality depending on where you are. I am different at work than I am at home or back in Michigan with the fam. I am the same person I just have different parts of me that come out at different times. I have so many people that don’t look like me say: "You’re a different kind of black person you don’t seem black." What the hell does that mean? I listen to rock, country, gospel, rap, hip-hop, was in a rock band and I perform rap music too. If I wear a hoodie they clutch their purse. If I wear a suit they want to date me. You can not have it both ways just accept me for me. Put yourself in shoes where you walk on pins and needles everyday in fear. I am a law abiding citizen but at the end of the day I am still harassed and profiled. And that is the scary part when innocent people have to be afraid we are in trouble as a society. I recall an instance in college and I attended a frat party with white friends. We were stopped at the door and told that everyone could come in except for me. My friends were pissed and I told them go ahead and go in. They stood up for me and we all left together. My friend was invited to rush that frat and he said he wanted no part of that organization. I appreciated that because that took guts and it showed what kind of people they were. They were so mad saying “it’s not right.” They wanted to go back and break windows. I said "why are you mad?" They said "it’s just not right." I said "you just experienced something for a few minutes but I live it everyday. If I fought every battle when I am treated like that I would be fighting almost everyday and would probably lose my mind...."

To See Me Is Not To Know Me

2013-05-09T08:58:00.003-07:00

As minds wander aimlessly
we have to take time to focus
Gazing out the window through a
double pane glass
I often find myself all alone
Although I am surrounded
by flesh I feel nothing.
The warm heartbeat
that sputters is not fulfilling
A room with a view
that doubles as a self embodied prison
All that defines me
is tucked away like a recluse
Unable to pierce my soul
due to a thick exoskeleton

2012-11-15T08:22:00.003-08:00

Mind control is an amazing thing. Look at the world and you will see mind control in every aspect.

Embryo

2012-11-15T08:19:00.001-08:00

I feel torn like no other time in my life. A sense of betrayal. But betrayal to what or from whom? A quick glance into the mirror only gives me minimal pleasure until I begin to recognize the monster in the reflection. It is almost as if the lines on my hand lead to destruction. The very soul of my being shutters with injustice. What does all this mean? Am I destined for unhappiness? Maybe this is some type of self-fulfilling prophecy that has already been set into motion, no matter what decisions I make. This is a struggle day to day with me and my psyche.

Middle

2012-11-15T08:16:00.001-08:00

We met in the middle
But is the middle the beginning or the end?

Fly In The Dark

2012-11-15T08:13:00.001-08:00

Fly In The Dark

by Chet Brown

It came like a thief in the night. The annual routine doctors visit that Mary had done so many times before, cast a dark shadow this time. It started with a mere cough and a small pain in her chest. Like the change in seasons, all that was would never be the same. This vibrant young woman, so full of life and happiness, was gradually fading into nothingness. Over time, she became frailer and frailer as the elasticity in her skin slowly began to loosen. Brian was fascinated by the she way she was able to change her hair color from day to day. He did not seem to notice the mannequin heads that surrounded the inside of the room. She had red shoulder length hair one day and short blonde hair the next. Mary was a natural brunette but this gave her the opportunity to play dress up. This often improved her spirits and with a slight tilt of her head, she would smile gingerly. Some days Mary had the strength to sit up and other days she did not. She would lie motionless in a near catatonic state. With tubes in her nose and needles in her arms, Brian would sit with her for hours. He would talk to her even when she did not respond back.

“Mom, I will just put your make-up on the night stand until you are feeling better okay?”

She was always passionate about looking nice and the smell of her perfume would linger down the hallway. The scent would find its way into every crevice in the home. Brian would lie in bed with a smile on his face and know that his mother was close. That time was long gone now along with that beautiful scent that once paraded through the house. Brian’s mother was taken from him when he needed her the most. His mother was his ally and now she was gone. What would life be like for him without her?

This was a dark time in the evolution of Brian. I say evolution because he didn’t transform overnight. Oh, no, this had been a gradual process as he morphed into a broken down shell of his former self. If you put a frog in hot water it will immediately jump out. But if you place a frog in cold water and slowly heat it up the frog will slowly boil to death. Brian was slowly bowling in the pot of life but no one could see it. This was also when he began to detract from the outside world. He became somewhat of a mental recluse if you will.

Beep… beep… beep…, the sound of the alarm fills the room and bounces off the walls in an annoying fashion. It’s Monday morning and the clock screams 6:30am. For Brian it signaled just another day in a miserable existence called life. The small red light on the bottom of the television was the only illumination in the pitch black room. He liked it that way, extra dark. In his mind he felt as though it helped him sleep better, and it probably did. In reality it kept him from getting a good look at himself, in the single mirror in the room. It was usually covered anyway. Brian didn’t necessarily dislike the way he looked; he disliked what people saw when they looked at him. He had something that was labeled as transient insomnia, so when he finally did fall asleep he wanted to remain that way.

As Brian attempted to feel his way through the room he stubbed his toe on the computer desk. He winced in pain as his big toe throbbed pulsating through his toe socks. The night light that he kept in his room had faded out nearly a month ago. He attempted to remind himself daily to change the night light

bulb. The funny thing about night lights is that they are not needed during the daytime. Therefore, it had continuously become a daily afterthought. Well, that is until the room was once again dark, and he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Maybe deep down he really didn’t want to ever replace the bulb. Or, maybe it just made him feel better inside by having the intention to replace it. That small intention gave him a glimmer of hope that he would soon swan dive out of the funk that he had slowly been lowered into over time.

He finally made his way to the closet. His selection of clothing was like a dress rehearsal for a remake of “The Omen”. All black littered his boring closet all the way down to his socks. All clothing with any color was neatly stored in the back of the closet inside several boxes. He kept them there for safe keeping. He patiently waited for the day when he could open the boxes and unveil the vibrant blue, yellow and green shirts that he used to love so much. He painted his fingernails black because it made him feel powerful and mainly because his dad hated it. It gave him a sense of control and allowed him to be one with himself. He didn’t consider himself to be “gothic” or “emo”. Most of the kids at high school couldn’t relate to the issues that he was dealing with. A broken home torn apart by tragedy and then Brian was thrust back into “normal” life, without being allowed the proper time to grieve. He sometimes didn’t understand himself.

School started at 8:00am and as far as he could tell he just might make it on time. Brian didn’t really want to go today because he had a mathematics test second period. He hated mathematics and as far as he knew mathematics hated him too. His father attended MIT on an academic scholarship. Since he came from an environment which thrived on educational achievements, there was so much emphasis in that one particular subject. To live in the shadow of his father was an insurmountable amount of pressure. For him it was just not in the cards. Brian struggled in mathematics and he usually functioned

at an average to a little below average level. But good old pops just couldn’t understand that. His father was more of a left brain thinker and Brian had a right brain thought process. It didn’t matter to him if Brian had gotten all A’s in every other subject, the only thing that mattered was mathematics. His father had an obsessive compulsive, sick, and twisted love affair with numbers. It was as if all the characters on the paper were in a foreign language and the only thing his dad saw was his mathematics grade.

He had been taken to nearly every doctor to see what was going on his head. From the psychologists to the psychiatrists Brian was paraded from office to office in search of a suitable diagnosis. Anything would suffice, as long as his father did not have to accept the fact that an offspring of his was less than stellar. He was given the usual explanation, depression, social withdrawal and low self-esteem. He often thought to himself this was not the answer. No one could see or even cared to understand what life was like for him. He felt like a herd of cattle being led around on the farm, continuously, poked and prodded until they became submissive. If he had to look at another ink spot or listen to another whack- job babble, he was gonna snap.

Brian enjoyed the arts and had a deep rooted desire to do theatre. He was once cast as the lead in West Side Story. He was filled with excitement and he couldn’t wait to share the news with his family. His mom was supportive as always and there was an aura of positive energy that filled the house. The second his father arrived home all of that was gone in an instant. It was as if all the joy died a slow death with each passing minute of the clock.

Journal entry:

“Here was my chance to make a difference and possibly be accepted by other ninth graders. And just like a clay target at skeet shooting, I was shot down. I feel like my ego was shattered into a million pieces and now I feel desolate. Maybe dad just doesn’t understand me at all. I want to tell him how I feel and everything that I go through every day. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. He probably wouldn’t understand anyway since he doesn’t care for inferior weaker individuals like me.”

Journal entry:

“I guess I do view myself as weaker. I never really thought about it that way. If I wasn’t I would do something about it. I want to stand up to the bullies that give me crap each and every day. I also wish I could to tell dad about my hopes and dreams and for once be accepted for who I am. It’s not fair that I am constantly treated this way.”

Journal entry:

“I knew that dad would not allow it but for once I wanted to be somebody that mattered. And for that brief moment before he came home and reality set in, I was. For about 45 minutes Brian Staple mattered.”

Brian would often catch flies because he felt as though he could identify with them. He would put them in mason jars and watch them search for a way out as they crawl around the glass. He would be sure to cut holes in the top of the jar to allow the fly air. He felt as though he was preserving the insect and keeping it safe at the same time. When it died, he would keep it in a safe place with the others. Just like clockwork another fly would take its place as if to be waiting for its place in line. A fly is considered a pest that can carry serious diseases. However, Brian did not view them like that. He felt they were

misunderstood creatures that had their own purpose. Just like a fly, he wandered aimlessly through life, sometimes going unnoticed, like a fly in the dark. Although he wasn’t plagued with disease he was often ostracized as though he had leprosy. He didn’t make eye contact with the people that he passed by, but he could feel the stares weighing heavy on him. Black hoods often donned his head protecting him from the outside world and concealing him inside the dark half-shell. He longed to be accepted in his social circle as well as at home.

Journal entry:

“I wonder where this fly hides all day long. What in the heck does it do when I am not here? Does it feel my body heat or something because as soon as I walk into the room it starts that stupid buzzing around my ear? I swat at it to stop the tickling feeling it gives my skin when it lands on me. I have no intentions of killing it but I am sure it doesn’t know that. I don’t think I have the ability to hurt any living thing. I like to watch it over and over again as it attempts to fly straight across the room. It’s kinda funny that it keeps doing the same thing so many fricking times in a row”

The bus stop was only four houses down on the right. But he chose to walk to school rather than endure the constant ridicule and teasing from his classmates. The walk was rather pleasant about two miles. It gave him time to think which in turn probably had an adverse effect on him. He felt they were more like degenerates rather than normal people. He never really understood why he was treated the way he was. How could people be so cruel to another human being just for being different?

The next door neighbor, Ms. Simmons, had a long fence with two small Shih Tzu puppies. She had always been nice to him and he respected her for that. He used to do odd jobs and yard work for her as

needed, free of charge. Now he just merely paid her a visit from time to time to say hello. Before Brian her last human contact other than the mailman and yard crew had been nearly two years, due to her not having family in the area. Each time Brian approached the fence the small dogs would leap off the porch and dart towards the gate in attack mode. The reality was they were both harmless and pretty much afraid of their own shadows. Like clockwork Ms. Simmons yells from the porch “Noodles, Dipsey, get back over here.” in a weak and feeble voice. She really couldn’t see that well so she didn’t know where they actually were. She just listened for the barking and aggressive growls and projected her voice in that direction. Noodles and Dipsey were well groomed and each one of them had small bows around their heads, red and blue respectively. They would always give their last display of valor; one final bark as they turned to run back to the porch like well trained soldiers.

“Brian is that you?”

“Yes Ms. Simmons I was just coming to say hi.”

“Don’t mind the dogs they are just happy to see you.”

“I know, I wasn’t afraid of them,” he chuckled.

Brian liked his visits with Ms. Simmons. She did not have a vested interest in him and she never made fun of him. She was simply, yet unintentionally, filling space in the void left in the absence of his mother. Her home had an odor of mothballs, urine and dog feces. The smell did not seem to bother him one bit and he would sit there for hours listening to her talk about her past when she was known as Rosie the Riveter. Her husband had been killed in World War II and she had never remarried. As a reminder, she kept an American flag on the mantel, concealed in a wooden container, covered by glass. She had an old black and white television with bent rabbit ears on top. The television was always on the

same channel broadcasting local evangelists. The constant horizontal lines made it difficult to make out the people on the screen. Blaring through the small speakers, “The Lord will keep us and guide us through the times of darkness.” Brian usually ignored the preaching as the subject matter gave him a sense of displeasure. After visiting for a bit he said his good-byes.

“Have a good day Ms. Simmons.”

“Okay Brian you do the same. Have a good day at school.”

Journal entry:

“I keep my dead flies in a shoebox under the bed. I love the way they stay in the same position after they die. It is as if they are frozen in time or something. I wonder if they land somewhere and die or if they are flying along and die while in the air. That would be weird to be flying along and fall out of the sky. I am glad that airplanes are not living creatures that would be real bad for everybody.”

Back to the place where he felt safe and into the room where he mattered. A sole fly crawled ever so slowly along the ceiling. In a synchronized fashion, the insect rubbed its wings and legs together. Silence blanketed the room that was almost completely dark. A small glimpse of light peeked through the blinds dividing the wall like notebook paper. A slight breeze was tickling the leaves on the trees directly outside the window. Brian desired to put distance between the many issues that plagued him in his human form. Similar to the annoying pests that most people had a disdain for; he wanted to fly. Dressed for departure, to the highest point in the room he climbed. Standing atop of textbooks, he hovered above the worldly problems and they no longer burdened him. Images of happier times with his dad flashed vividly through his mind. A hint of his mother’s perfume scampered across the floor. He was finally in control as the fly rested atop his forehead. Maybe math was not that important after all.

I dream .........

2012-11-10T06:02:00.001-08:00

I dream because that's what dreamers do
I dream when the moon reaches it's highest point
I dream when the leaves lose pigment
I dream as the wind whistles harmonies
I dream as I close my eyes
I dream, because I am allowed to dream.

THE FLAG

2012-03-20T17:09:00.000-07:00

With no blemish
Through constant bombardment
Frail in appearance
Weathered the storm
Tattered and withered
Symbol of hope and freedom

TRAPPED

2012-01-11T14:37:00.000-08:00

I feel trapped
Trapped in a prison that has no walls
Blind to the outside world
Sheltered from all that matters
Echoes fall on deaf ears
Echoes fall on deaf ears

Elephant Man

2011-08-09T11:57:00.000-07:00

The treatment of the Elephant Man is a reflection of what we are as a society. On a daily basis people are treated unjust just for the color of their skin. Individuals that have not been blessed with stunning looks or may have been born a little bit different, deserve the same respect. All individuals owe it to themselves to treat people the way that they would want to be treated. The most beautiful of individuals can become the most ugly of individuals if their attitude and level of respect is low. Just like the ugly duckling turns into a swan. All individuals have a little swan in them if they decide to display it.

WIND

2011-05-25T17:12:00.000-07:00

Feel it on my face

Blades bend aimlessly

Pollination is in the air

Germination not far off

The ability to create

The ability to destroy

Shattered

2011-05-25T17:00:00.000-07:00

It travels so fast
The end is near
Gravity is the enemy.

Sands Of Time

2011-05-25T16:55:00.000-07:00

The longer it goes
The less you have
The higher it gets
The lower it becomes
Constant movement
Fighting to be first
Right side up
Wrong side down
180 degree turns
Allows for new life

Return Of The Maverick

2011-03-25T18:39:00.000-07:00

After a long lay-off whether on purpose or not it is good to be back. No I wasn't incarcerated but mentally I was on vacation. I took a break from life and with that there went my blog. I love to share and give a piece of me to everyone hence my return. With all the natural disasters that have have been occurring over the last few months it's hard to harp on small issues that we have in everyday life. I sat and watched a 60 minutes episode a few weeks back and I was saddened by the subject. The topic focused on families that had been displaced due to the economic crisis. This left homeless children many of which now live in hotel and motels. So we should ask ourseles; Is it really that bad for us? I personally am truly blessed and thankful for everything that I have, but not satisfied. I want more because we all have a deep rooted selfishness that burns like a pire. I have very few actual needs that I am without. I do however have a truckload of wants. Those wants is what seems to get us in trouble. Today is the first day of the rest of our lives. I for one will make a concious effort to appreciate what I have rather than focus on what I don't.

At this moment.

2010-11-28T16:01:00.000-08:00

This is a classic time of the year. At this moment the holiday season is upon us. We tend to focus more on sales and taking advantage of opportunities. Others give more attention to family and nearly break their neck to get a flight, bus, or a car to get to see family. We need to focus on this more often throughout the year. Many people don't even call their friends or family until this time of the year. I am no exception I am just as guilty. We all need to find a way to come together more during the year. None of of us know the day or the time when we will be called to our maker. Cherish every day and make every hour, every minute, and every second count.

Cigarettes

2010-05-08T22:36:00.000-07:00

It is easy to leave but so hard to say good-bye. The mere thought of separating from the ones you love is heart wrenching. Verbally telling someone that you are leaving must be even more difficult. You know my dad left to get a pack of cigarettes and he never came back. My only thought is he did not know how to say good-bye. I wonder if mom feels the same way that I do?

?

2010-04-26T15:47:00.000-07:00

Step on a crack

Break your Mother's back

What about ~~fathers~~?