Stairway to the Stars

"A beautiful sight whether your on the way up or down"

What if you could take a stairway to the stars…

How much would it cost? Would it be reserved for those trying to grasp a moon for love cowboy style? Maybe it would only be for those searching for solitude from the anguish of a troubled past or present.

How many steps would it take? Would you be willing to take the trip knowing there is only one way up, and only one way back down?

What if you could take a stairway to the stars…

I picture folks lining the steps praying. Asking wishes come true before the night ends and the stairway disappears. I think of couples trying to prove their strength by making it to the top; hopefully together.

What if there was a stairway to the stars…

Would the top step be called hope leading to a diving board called love? And some wouldn't be told to grab a “trust” parachute before they made the climb.

I imagine the bodies falling by the thousands. And every so often I’d see a chute open. Just as long as they got the complete parachute that had a primary pull-cord called “reliability” and a secondary called “truth”.

It would be funny to see some falling with their chute searching for a cord that was never there or have it fail and or not have a backup as they drop into the dark abyss.

A stairway to the stars…Wouldn't it be a marvelous thing.

Being able to touch the heavens without having to strap yourself to a million tons of fuel. Yet the likelihood of surviving would be one in the same.

And the irony of it all is I would take a climb. Suddenly becoming bored watching peoples futile attempts at reaching the heavens and trying to show them how it should be done. I imagine climbing high enough to see the entire Milky Way. I would get so close I would feel the radiance of the lights warmth on my skin. So high it would be difficult to breathe. I would dive off and pray to land somewhere on the clouds. And hopefully be stuck forever gazing at the complexity of the heavens above; none the less satisfied and happy knowing that I tried to reach for them and came so close.

How amazing would it be to play among the stars? The beauty of vast galaxies; Distant; Unseen; Uncharted. Somersaulting off of love and praying to grow wings and explore, gliding down to try again, or falling…landing on a cloud or to an untimely demise. 

-Moises Seraphin

If I Was In Love

“If I was in love… I might just keep it to my damn self.”

If I was in love…I would feel this way. I would feel exactly like this….when she’s away; with distant memories haunting me of what used to be. As if it was a sick joke from the heavens above of what could or could’ve been. Like being touched by an angel and never being touched the same way again. And having to live knowing nothing you feel would ever match the intense moments of bliss. Damn if I was in love it would hurt like hell. And sometimes I would drink. I would pour my soul into a bottle to refill the anguish of having loved and lost. I would dance alone and reminisce on past moments wondering if they were actually my present.

If I was in love I would be tormented by being left this vulnerable; being jealous of stupid things. Like seeing guys that I think she might be interested in and hating them instantly. Saying, “Always trying to like this pic or that one.” And, “Keep your comments to yourself. With his no neck, Terry Crews lookin….No one wants to hear you sing lullaby’s anyway. Real lovers spit poems.” And I would hate his guts. And I would hate feeling this way about a stranger.

If I was in love…I would be purple in the face. Because love would be in the air and I would have to hold my breath. To not be engulfed with such a sad sickness.  

If I was in love I would be down on my knees praying, “If only I could love you, if only you could love me, if only I hated loving you, if only I loved loving you, if only we were in love, if only….” (*snap)

If I was in love I would feel miserable; because when left alone I would be powerless. Even if everyone else knew me to be strong, I would feel as if the void left in your absence was filled with kryptonite. If I was in love…

I would feel powerful; because our strengths would be intertwined in interdependence. And we would be unstoppable. We would have the kind of power that can stop the world; pause time; profoundly poetic and immeasurable. If I was in love…

I would remember that this feeling comes maybe once or twice in a lifetime and destiny is a matter of choice and not chance. I would know that your beauty is way more than skin deep. I would say things like “OuuCha and OuuNa” just because I liked the way they rolled off my tongue. I would scream it to the heavens! If I was in love…

I would marry you, you’re heart and your soul; writing vows to each to seal our covenant eternally. We would have kids; 2-4 of them. And I would pray to god to not have more than one girl. For fear that I might be taken out of your arms one day; for taking off my belt to some ashy knucklehead trying to be slick. If I was in love…

And you asked me to kiss you I wouldn't hesitate to. If you told me to love you unconditionally I would. If you begged me for my heart it would be yours. If you cried to share my soul I would get down on my knees. Because for once in my life I can touch what my heart used to dream of.  If I was in love…

I would feel…just like this. If I was in love…

I wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world. Because the greatest thing I’ve learned is to love and be loved...even if for but a moment. If I was in love….

It would be with you. If….I was in love.

-Moises L.Seraphin

Sing of Freedom, Think of Love

From Kendrick..... (Freedom 3x and Crash Course*)

Written: March 2013
Completed: August 2013

When the lights shut off and it’s my turn to settle down, my main concern….promise that you will sing about me. Promise that you will sing about me.

I woke up this morning with this… thing on my mind and wrote you this letter so I could tell you. My mental is hurting and no one can hear; hear my pain and fears. But I remember you back when I was slanging, ganging, doing the things that I did, and making enemies every day and the day to day lives I took wearing my cold blues. But I have no one to tell anymore by you, the last of kin and the only one to tell my sins. You won’t judge me though my confessions, or those of my former weapon. Like that day I accidentally shot that kid; The one whose face still throbs on my mind and my mental with his blue shirt jeans and jays, holding that damn pig skin. He was 15, a scholar, a baller. Someone somebody loved; someone they will no longer be able to hug. And it sucks because at his funeral I blended in. And to my surprise I met his brother. His brother sat, sobbed and cried saying it should’ve been he who died. He was the banger, the once upon a time slanger. Yet he was the only civilian to see it all. The only one to view the lead pierce the soul of innocence. And I had no idea he could see what unfolded through the blinds and blinding lights. And I stood there trying to find the words; to say it was me. Through his eyes he cried and he wished it was he who would have died. He even looked at me right in my eyes. As if he could see through my soul, I felt cold as this 7 year old looked into the depths of my conviction, a victim of my hands; The hands that began to make it hard to stand. So I ran; Out of the tomb of my conscious and memories of sin; I ran. And I wouldn't be mad if it was he who grew up to slay me in the fashion his brother was maimed and pained.

And it hurts most because I know you are that to me. You are my brother and to this day I know that if he grew to seek vengeance or to get me I wouldn't feel bad because of the pain I would feel if it was you, and what I would do. I know years have passed from this memory of tragedy but lord knows I want to tell you more of my life on the police force and the memories of those lost through my negligence. Like my son and how he always asked for me to Speak to Him1 and how he…”Pop..Pop..Pop” (Shots ring out)2

When the lights shut off and it’s my turn to fade away, my main concern...promise that you will write about me. Promise that you will write about me.

(Shift) I heard the message you left on my girl’s phone. Aren't I the one that you dogged years ago and left solo sitting alone? Holding memories of flowers pulled to the last pedal, I began to settle and find something that made me sing… “Because…she reminds me of a girl” That’s Nothing Like You.  So today I decided to call you up on the phone and let you know that I hate you for all of what you did to me. And I will not let you mess this up. Because it took me a while to find the origin of my trust and lust issues, the insecurities obtained from a girl that didn't care, now saying she was scared. (Shift) And yes I’m speeding because of how mad I am at the flicks, flips, and stitches I now wear to keep my heart patched from your misery. I’m shifting gears unafraid of death; except the fact that I have been saved and healed by a new love, a new girl, my new world (Shift). Someone who accepts me for me, and has stitched me back one thread at a time with patience and love. And the nerve of you to leave a message on her phone, pleading and begging, trying to convince me to come home. Why…(Shift) How can I tell my new world that I still have feelings for another girl. I can’t because I can’t bear the feeling of losing her soul healing, and yet I know a void still lies because of something that was unrequited, a tragedy already decided. So I will drive until an answer comes from the heavens above or on this road on how to keep strong and not fold. I will wait until an answer comes for me to take control….of this situation and make a decision. But I can’t because of this turn; I can see my answer begin to unfold but damn this tight turn. My answer is that.... wait! I’m swerving and drifting, I losing control, and now all I feel is the car roll and roll and roll and roll and roll…..

When the lights shut off and it’s my turn to die today, my main concern....promise that you will think about me. Promise that you will think about me.

-M.Seraphin

*Still being written

Author Notes (To understand the history) 1. Read poem Speak to Me 2. Read poem Freedom Freedom Freedom