Yo me siento como regresar a casa. ....

Etheridge Knight is one of my favorite poets. I am not a substance abuser, drunk, nor am I chemically dependent. While I have visited numerous jails and prisons I have not spent an entire night confined in a cell, out side of the ones I've created, you know that self imposed solitude within your mind, soul and heart. The first time I heard "This year there is a grave stone wall damming my stream, and when the falling leaves stir my genes, I pace my cell or flop on my bunk and stare at 47 black faces across the space. I am all of them, they are all of me, I am me, they are thee, and I have no sons to float in the space between." The Idea of Ancestry, Etheridge Knight.... The words hit me like hip hop hit most, or as a poet friend says the first time he and a bunch of friends saw Breakin' or Beat Street. I knew there was a connection, and this man's words were powerful, and (continue) to live at the very core of my (lonely) being....I have to go home. I awoke this morning with a sense of loss. I love driving, yet I loathe that drive... With each turn of the wheel, with each heart beat, I feel longing, a sense of loss, the need to escape, totally disconnected. I have no sons to float in the space between..."I feel like going home......" But where do you go, when nothing and no one is waiting for you at the end of the road? I mean aside from memory laced nightmares, broken dreams, and an empty glass over flowing with blackened tears. I say empty, 'cuz, I lie, nothing ever quite captures my pain and sense of loss. I say black because it absords everything. It is not the absence of light, as most would want you to believe. And I am not absent of light. Neither are my tears. But they are empty. Shallow. Again, because I lie. Most things are superficial, seldom a connection. I feel like going home, but I have no sons to float in the space between. I have secrets, that eat away me. I want love, but I don't know how to.. REALLY! There was, and is ALWAYS something to float but it would overwhelm that space between, I AM selfish and self seeking. I carried hope for a few days, became overwhelmed in despair, and remained empty. I have no sons to float in the space between. I feel like going home. But there's nothing there. Falling leaves stir my genes... they are waiting at the end of the road. But to face them means to face a past I want to forget. I feel like going home. I am all of them and they are all of me. Great-grand says she's all I have. She has two that she teaches the same. "You are all you have", she tells them, "take care of each other, don't let anyone hurt the other." "I AM ALL I HAVE, I TELL MYSELF!" And each morning, I awake heavy with sweat and regret disguised as (negative) optimism. She sounds just like my great-grand. I sound like their ghosts. ANGRY AND FORLORN. I am reminded. I have no sons to float in the space between. Will the simple laugh that greets our souls, between the secrets that leak between bleeding heart beats, be enough to sustain, to forget for a moment. Or will I simply be reminded that I AM all I have. And that revelation within itself pains. There are more, yet... I have removed enough stones, and while my pockets are heavy, I am willing to to trudge the waters and pray they are not too deep. Baby, I feel like going home.......