Zones

Let’s be real for a bit..

Your defensive schemes all out of wack. The area your covering isn’t even the most vulnerable, you’re looking at it from the wrong perspective. You’re looking outside – in, when you should be looking inside – out. Guarding against the run, as if you didn’t just allow me to pass.

Man to man coverage. Worry about who’s in front of you. That’s your responsibilty. Don’t depend on any sort of safety coverage and no don’t peeking into the backfield. But it takes a certain type to be able to do this. Some can, some cannot.

The end zone is the end goal, of course scoring is important, but so is time of possession. The longer you hold on, the better your chances of winning.

Should you choose to bend the rules, play without dignity or outright cheat, you will be caught & punished. Once word gets out, free agents won’t even respond to your messages and you’ll lose future picks.

I mean, it is all sort of a game anyway, right? We mask it as a playful activity, something for amusement, but in reality it’s so much more. We all want to win and hold up our trophy.

And after you’ve gotten that trophy every living being desires, you also get a ring.

That zone defense you’ve been playing got you here, but it won’t win you a ring. Come here. Do your job and only be concerned about the man in front of you.

And I promise the same.

 

Convince & Repeat

I’ve been away…

To deal with my affliction, as self diagnosed. However, I believe any clinical psychiatrist would agree. I don’t hear voices, but I must be insane. Truly, I must be. I mean, lots of artists & writers have dealt with mental illness. All the symptoms are there. The feelings of deja vu, repeating the same actions and expecting different results.

The adversity arises, year after year. I defeat it, send it back into the depths of obscurity and celebrate myself as cured. Things return to status quo for months, quarters at a time until the affliction returns to my realm.

Upon each return, it is more difficult to defeat than the last time. I’ve reached a point where I almost need it in my life, to feel normal, otherwise I’m a zombie…. lifeless and emotionless everyday, until it returns.

I receive nothing from it, instead I sacrifice who I am, my sanity as a whole… to appease…

… and to return to distant memories of when the affliction was but a flutter of naivety. Things weren’t always this way. But they have been, for quite some time now, the same. And as the affliction comes and goes, as does a piece of me each transition.

 

Photo Cred: Damian Michaels – The Road to Madness

Defense Tactics

I do not pray for my enemies.

I besiege their walls & wait for their downfall.

I will not love those, who do not love me.

I remember and will not forgive the lies until you’ve returned my wasted time.

Even still,

I bear no ill will,

But I won’t forgive,

I’ll just pretend.. the way you did.

Lifeless

All them likes, media fame & street cred
Behind closed doors he’s a deadbeat to his 3 kids
A weak man,
Far less than I see where there’s a mirror to peak in
But every weekend, he’s the street’s friend
I’ll pass
Rather,
cherish the moments
heretics have avoided
Guess at this point, I sort of built up a tolerance
seems that the only thing these niggas built up lately is followers
Pardon, bruh, I’ll try to meet you between proper use & ebonics
seems that the only thing some people built up lately is followers…
Speaking generally as a topic
more specifically these awful ass, terrible fathers
You know,
the one that hasn’t seen his son since he was still in diapers
Y’all are like zombies, literally deadbeats
Lifeless.

 

Unsought

Animosity has moved where admiration once lived

A warm shoulder to lean upon

a cold one returned in gratitude

A fledgling associate, your value now lacks

yet a sliver of hope remains still

Admission of feelings

caused tension to grow

within

a distorted collection of sentiment

resting in its place.

 

Inspired by The Daily Post – Daily Prompt: Unseen

 

Can’t You See, What You Do to Me?

Over the threshold and home, an interlude plays softly as he enters
Flipped switches to the central ceiling fixtures, unresponsive
A note attached… “let’s make it an adventure”
Only clue illuminated by the candlelit sconces.
Deeper in the dark corridor, a sweet scent emanated
A game of cat & mouse initiated by the misses
First song fades out, to this room hubby was baited
Heard the patter of her feet she scattered fast and full of giggles.
You’re really trying to get creative with the love, missy
Badu switched from the soundbar to the Beats pill
Turned my back and then you slipped me a mickey
But all you gotta do is say yes, Jill.
Perched atop the bed, like a queen upon her throne
Soft caress of happiness
It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever know
To find my hide and seek champion.

The Visit

Phone started ringing at like 12AM, we met at the Shell earlier, she just got in… And was wondering, if I was still with my friends and if I wasn’t if I wanted to come see her a minute…

Well.. I guess it depends, on what she’s got in mind and if she’s got any kids (yeah)… Nah, nevermind, I’ll probably just chill at the crib. A couple of minutes later, it started ringing again…

The number looked familiar but ain’t saved in my phone. I’m drunk, so I said fuck it, I’m gonna answer, hello?…

The voice said, I know that you can’t stand me, but you remember me? It’s Brandi?

I said the one I used to wax like a candle? The one that it was never nothing that she couldn’t handle? The one that said I used to fuck her better than her man do?

She replied like, yeah so? But what you doing now though? Henny talking on both shoulders, dog this chick like Alpo…

Told her nothing, bout to roll up. Ima come over there hold up, now this Operation’s covert… “no man” is the code word.

Learned from my mistakes, so it’s no way I’m gon slip, I only pistol whip with Magnums on some Goldeneye shit. Only visiting for now, but always packing for a trip. With him she been wishing it was me inside them hips.

Neighbors probably hear the knocking. And it’ll stay like this as long as she keep calling. Fuck it if he don’t like it, true story, I ain’t even have to write this.