he's baaaaaaaccccccccck.

REVOK x CHARLES HAMILTON x KEEGAN GIBBS from Keegan Gibbs . com on Vimeo.

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the guardian angel syndrome.

So there's a girl, who encompasses everything in which men usually look for: She throws down in the kitchen (cooks well), clean, respectful, intelligent, funny, and most importantly, TALENTED. Here's the problem. She's in college, twenty-one, and all the men around her are NOT READY. We all know the saying, girls are four years older in maturity then men are. (Men are probably four years younger mentally.) So her 25-year-old-mind, is telling her to find the "one" and settle down. While the 17-year-old-mind of the 21-year-old man is telling him to sow his royal oats. If you read my blog on a regular basis, you'll remember my memoir of "waiting." Some of these same women are experiencing the most traumatic form of waiting called, "The Guardian Angel Syndrome." No, this is not a real psychological label, you will not find it in the DSM IV. Yet it is a name i have concocted so people suffering from such a condition can recognize it immediately.

THE BREAKDOWN:

You meet a guy, who seems to have it all together. He drives, has his own spot, a good job, and he's in school. You fall for him and after the back and forth of building a "friendship" you'd hoped would turn into something more....you spring it on him. "I want to be more than friends." He hesitates, stumbles over his words, or perhaps he's one of those smooth brothers who has it all together (which is rare) and tells you casually, "I don't see you like that." Translation: He can't look at you that way. He only wants to be friends. HE'S JUST NOT INTERESTED. Why, you ask? Well, it could be the simple things. It could be his superficiality clawing at him to notice your minute flaws. Maybe it's the way you carry yourself, what you wear, or the accent you have. MAYBE. But, 9 times out of 10, HE'S JUST NOT READY. If you are indeed the honest woman, the capable woman, and the loyal woman....if he's not crazy....YOU ARE HIS TYPE. I'm sure his mother didn't tell him to bring a disheveled, unkempt, unmannerly woman home. (I'd rather not use the actual adjectives I was thinking. Lol. Hussy.) However, right now, in his prime, he isn't looking for the woman he intends to marry. He's looking for a trophy, a floss-around-with, a hello & goodbye. But because he doesn't want to lose you and your amazing qualities, he keeps you around. BOOM. BAM. VOILA. You've become his guardian angel.

Now to bring a bit of my personal life into this. As a poet who performs in different venues and places, I meet all types of men. "You're set was amazing, here's my number, call me sometime." So, sometimes, I call. Often that first call leads into a series of calls. The late night conversation we can all relate to. The sundown till sunup, "hold on i have to pee", fall asleep on the phone conversations. More than once I've been asked to perform a piece over the phone or render advice for a problem that i didn't have the answer to. For some reason when you're creative, some people tend to think you have the answer to everything, or the anecdote to their pain in one of your poems. WRONG. As I've stated in a piece before, "I am not your poetry dispenser." Now, even though there are warning signs that we tend to ignore; things start to get serious. We then start to ask ourselves, "Where is this leading?" So face to face one day you ask him that question and suddenly he's on the defensive: "Why do we need titles?" "Whats the rush?" "What we have is beautiful, don't ruin it." So you stay, or rather, I stayed. I became that best friend, that confidant, the "Brown-Sugar" home girl who knows she can never have you in the way she wants to but will always have the opportunity to just....be around.

I know you're thinking.....What's so bad about that?

Hmmmphhh....It's the side effects of the Guardian Angel Syndrome that are the killer.

Side Effect 1: Watching: While you sit on the sidelines of his life you are forced to watch him parade his newest float around. Girlfriend 1, Mistress 2, Other Woman 3. He will not care what you think about them. He'll sit in front of you, pretend to listen intently, because he cares that YOU CARE. However, even if he gets rid of her, there will be another one waiting to move up on the roster; while you are still riding the bench. Because remember, you and him, "don't need titles."

Side Effect 2: Listening: During his drama with his "women", you will be deemed "the listener." While he gloats about Maria, Tia, and Tanya; you will have to listen. While he expresses his disdain about their flaws and actions; you will have to listen. While he one day realizes he wants to take one of these woman SERIOUSLY; you will have to listen. Hopefully, you will tune out the sound of your heart breaking. Remember, "Whats the rush?"(And GOD FORBID he's one of the visual brothers. You'll get photos of the new beau's with a corresponding text, "What do you think of her?" UGH.)

Side Effect 3: Advice: You will have to listen to your mouth form words you don't truly believe. He will run to you when he realizes one of his "women" is smarter than he, and has successfully PLAYED him. You'll have to hear him rant, fuss, or worse, cry. Your emotions will flood you. You will be mad at the woman who made him hurt, mad at him for being such a fool, and mad at yourself for having to hold your tongue on how you really feel. RIGHT NOW, this is not about YOU, nor has it ever been. Whilst holding in all these emotions, you will now be expected to give words of encouragement, root for him to move on, and be the interim of hope until he can find someone new to play with. All the while, let his words replay in your mind, "What we have is beautiful, don't ruin it."

Playing the part of the guardian angel is a hard role. It is stressful, emotional, and taxing on your physical and mental health. If this blog post relates to you in anyway...STOP, TAKE A STEP BACK, & ANALYZE YOUR ROLE IN THE GAME. Ask yourself, "Is this the position I want to play?" If it isn't, call a time out, use your friends and family as the referee, and forfeit. I believe that the counterpart of our soul is within many other human beings. If you fail once, try again.

For all those women in denial; who feel as if I'm wrong: CONTINUE TO BE THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. Look behind yourself, (which I'm sure you haven't done in a while) and tell me EXACTLY what you're guarding. Empty promises? Broken dreams? Faded hope? I thought so. Do me a favor, step away from the mass of deceits you've been given, build a fortitude of self-esteem, throw in barbed wire comprised of your sharp wit and tongue, place your mind at the entry....and start guarding......your heart.

-riv-

***PS- My boy Jamalcolm pointed out that this is just the prolonged version of the poem below entitled "in(security)." Look @ me following up and not realizing it. LOL.****

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pledging allegiance to lupe fiasco. (The O.D.U. Show Review)

For someone who performed on HBO's Def Poetry with a "Hip-Hop is Dead" piece and is relatively stubborn in most matters; concerts rarely move me. With musicianship dwindling and substance fading; it has become an effort to spend the $40 that can fill my gas-guzzling S.U.V., on concert tickets.

Lupe Fiasco, is one of the rare exceptions.

When I take that first listen to a mix tape or witness a live performance that will be deemed classic or legacy; my eyes began to tear. My allegiance to hip-hop runs deep. (As rivers should be.) This kind of allegiance is reserved for the emcees I've watched grow & mature within the industry. It's reserved for men and women who take it upon themselves to rewrite every chapter of their lives into rhythm for the world's benefit. It is extraordinary beauty, when an emcee is so in debt to his art that the crowd becomes invisible and his performance brings everyone in the audience's mental to the same everlasting standstill he is experiencing. Fiasco doesn't only set the stage; He SETS THE STAGE. With glaring lights shimmering across his brown skin, a band with dynamic skill, and an individual who is not afraid to test any limits; be prepared for an outer body experience.

After revealing that this concert, on November 5th, 2009 at Old Dominion University, would be the last venue of the Cool tour, he burst into a set that clearly depicted how he felt about reaching this milestone. For an artist to go on a 2-year tour with one album with ticket sales never faltering, is remarkable. Hip-Hop fans sometimes underestimate the Superstar who has Kicked and Pushed his way to Paris and Tokyo while Daydreaming of the day Hip-Hop would save his life. For the listeners who've only heard the mainstream singles and the club-goers who've only nodded their heads to "I Gotcha"; you're truly missing out. Fiasco's songs envelop and overlap each other. There are clues within his albums that lead to the next song, chronicles that connect, and characters that keep reappearing. Not only is he a lyricist and a musician; the man is a storyteller.

As a teenage poet/emcee; I found myself performing at the top of stairs, on lunchroom tables, and anywhere I could call a stage. I began to conform those impromptu performances after listening to "some" judgemental peers who found my poetry to be a bit too energetic. However, after every Lupe concert I've ever been to, I reconnect with that former self. Lupe reminds me that its okay to be yourself on stage, to have fun while saving the world one song at a time, or lace the audience's ears with words you know to be true. As I stood in the cluster pushed against the stage's boundaries, fans voices booming left and right, quoting everything Fiasco relayed through his microphone; I fell in love again. I'm in a committed relationship with Hip-Hop. I've pledged my allegiance on the cellophane covers of albums, lost my hearing to the blaring of headphones, and developed a tick from nodding my head so hard to each producers cadence.

Fiasco loves his microphone. He sways it like a conductor flailing his baton and the crowd is his orchestra. He jumps up and down, back flips, throws water bottles into the crowd, and sings to the stage lights. I promise you, he often forgets we are there while he croons to HIS hip-hop. We are both in love with the same person and this is where the connection between fan and musician begin.

Lupe was clearly perturbed that he wasn't on the MTV list of top emcees. I went off on Twitter when i found out he wasn't either. He stated after talking about the MTV list, "I can't f*ck with Eminem, but I've got everyone else covered." Blogs have taken what he said out of proportion. He is doing something that most rappers do. He is speaking the truth into existence. Lil' Wayne (I can't believe I'm saying his name on my blog...again) stated, "I'm the best rapper alive." Two years ago we all thought he'd lost his mind for saying this. However, those same people who identified him as crazy are the same ones who are calling him exactly that nowadays. What Fiasco says is true; he CAN give it to EVERYONE on the "MTV List." The real L.F. fans, who know his lyrical capability and how far ahead of his time he is, can appreciate the previous statement.

For an emcee like Lupe Fiasco to be on the top of such a list, that is internationally looked upon, is a major accomplishment. It leaves me with a glow to watch young boys idolize a man who encompasses more morals and values than any other emcee I've ever listened to. Take a look at numbers 2-7 on the list, listen to what their singles portray, and and ask me if you want your sons and daughters to identify with that.

"I wish I could f*&k every girl in the world?"

"Hold on Taylor, I'm gonna let you finish..."

"I need a 5-Star chick?"

Nuff' Said.

While in the stadium indulge in your more "positive" surroundings. Fine tune your ears, feel the bass in your heart, and open your eyes and take a look around you. Watch Fiasco get on one knee and spit the first verse of "Sunshine" to the most insecure girl in the crowd. Witness him pass his beloved mic to the 12-year-old up front who knows every song verbatim. Listen to your favorite emcee tell you how much he loves and appreciates you for what you've done for him; with tears in his eyes and a frog in his throat. Now step outside the stadium; observe the "now" elevated minds banter excitedly in Lasers and Trilly & Trully shirts; consciousness on their tongues. Walk home to your hood; look out for the boys who were destined to be gang bangers and drug dealers, hop on skateboards and throw up the CRS sign. Let the images reoccur in your mind, let that tingling feeling spread from the tip of your fingers to your crown, and most importantly remember.....to.....smile.

-riv-

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heat i'm flowing to right now.

Yes, i know some of these joints are unreleased. However, I couldn't wait! Don't worry, I will cop the actual LP's when they drop. :-) I'm an artist....we have to support. Click the link's after the photos to download them. The Khalifa & K. Sparks are FREE downloads. However, Kel & Ryan's are up for grabs at Amazon.com. They're well worth the dime....AMAZING tracks.

Wiz Khalifa- Burn After Rolling

Kel Spencer's Salon Stories

Ryan Leslie-Transition

K. Sparks- Super Senior

OH, NO. Did you really think I'd give you the link to download this illegally? Ha! Go SUPPORT Wale; one of my top ten emcees. Nov. 10th! Stay tuned for my Wale "Attention Deficit" review.....

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in-(security).

I'm tainted

thick

peach cobbler thighs

potbelly

brown eyes

I'm flawed

the stars in my eyes

have long since dwindled

no dance in my step

teeth slanted

i tried to correct them

but my gap is genetic

dentist said it wouldn't close

so i know God intended for me to be this way

sorry,

if your makers vision

is so illuminating

that it blinds you

and while you are

clawing around

trying to find your way in the dark

my security

becomes your scratching post

sharp.

he left engraved in my skin

that I'd never be good enough for him

with books

that laced rainbows

around my mind

am i not bright enough for you?

and tongue

that travels farther than wits end

perhaps i spoke to much?

maybe my refusal to chase you

oblige you

grovel behind you

were those your expectations?

am i too strong for you?

no stranger

to lost love

will not break my back

to find you

but in the meantime

I'll twirl my metaphors around bricks

and throw them at your automobile of a heart

and hope you scar

keloid memories of me

will flood your eyes

and I'll be there to press rewind

every time you hear me speak

every time you hear yourself in a simile

every time you try to breathe

good luck finding purity

i hope perfection comes knocking at your door

so you can prove me wrong

but I'm tainted

imperfection elegance

screwed BLISS

darling desperate

I'm flawed

and there's no cure

words to keep you on your LONG journey:

good luck finding your non-existent pure.

pic: from www.skratch-pad.com

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