The Senses of an Untold Story

(Video from 2013 Nikki Giovanni Poetry Slam)

Shh, can you hear me? Hear me swinging? Like a child in the park on a warm spring day.

Shh… Listen… Can you hear the water below me; with my feet dangling above the Pear River?

Can you feel the slight summer breeze? Or that swinging…swinging …swinging; or what about my fear?

 From them accusing me of an unforgivable crime… Can you feel the cold cuffs slapping my wrists; Followed by fists and those hard batons? And my momma screaming…

Momma, she didn’t even know my name, build, hair type, height or weight; only that I was a black male. Pulled me out of the line-up …and said I raped her.

Shh, can you hear the grand jury? “One count Rape, Two Counts Kidnapping”.

And now I can taste what’s to come. That bitter taste… And It’s been 4 years and I aint goin’ out like Bobo. They aint gunna do me like young Bobo. That young Till boy didn’t deserve to be done like that. So I will fight. I am 23 years old and strong. I will go out on my feet and not my knees I will fight something fierce in this injustice….

Can you hear them, calling my name; Mack Charles Parker, Mack Charles Parker, Mack Charles Parker.

Those hooded white men are now at my cell and I tried to escape, I swear I tried, but I couldn’t and my punches landed nowhere in vain and now they’re beating me with their clubs.

Can you smell the blood streaked across the courthouse floor to the door?

Can you see them, dragging me into that car?

Shhh, listen close….and you will hear the gunshots into my body off the side of that cold road.

Shhhh, be quiet and listen. Listen to me swinging. Something like Strange Fruit; out of place and hanging off a bridge and not a poplar tree. (1959)

-Moises Lee Seraphin 

Breathing Life (Years Young)

Before you Read, Press Play above. 

Part of what inspired this poem...

Breathing life. One breath at a time. 

He was only…..He was only…years young. Because he was far too young to be any number of years old.

Dad always told us not to be wild. He said, “Don’t ever let anyone toy with your emotions. Because they will play with them until you are used and abused and eventually every toy breaks”. Dad said, “Don’t be stupid. Or go calling yourself or thinking yourself to be Crazy because eventually you will meet a girl named Deranged.” Dad said, “Don’t be wild.”

But he couldn’t help it. He was like Simba in his prime and he loved to roar. You see, the secret to his sanity was noise; Always consumed with being taken out of the world’s boxes. He stood out when surrounded by a crowd of millions…because he was the only one with a mic. And even if he didn’t have one, his voice would echo to reach every ear. He was a teacher. I mean, he could teach you how to love a rock. So what makes you think you couldn’t be taught how to love him. His words would resonate to touch every soul. And if he couldn’t touch yours he would take it, as if his name was Langston and you were Artina. And don’t think yourself clever enough to escape his grasp. His infatuation with the abstraction of a woman’s body surpassed all understanding. Because he would be that guy holding the sign for free mammograms with hands always ready.

And he was only….He was only…years young.

Momma always said, “Don’t bark at cops. She said shut your damn mouth. Turn that music down. Speak only when spoken to.”

“Because if they kill you…we will scream. If they kill you we will wage war on them, until the system changes. We will riot, and burn everything resembling injustice to the ground. We will march. We will fill the street with thousands of black men that look just like you. If they kill you we will change the laws to let this never happen again. If they kill you we will build monuments in your name. If they kill you we will fill churches with your friends, family members, and anyone who thinks you might have been a distant cousin. If they kill you will we cry; we will cry because you died. But if they kill you….you won’t be alive…to see any of it; any of what we have done in your name so shut your damn mouth, turn that music down and speak only if he doesn’t have a gun, my son.”

And he was only….He was only…years young.

Who would’ve thought you would no longer be breathing life. The victim of a premeditated murder; conceived long before being pierced with hollow point to belly button, nipple, nose, shoulder and leg shots. And silly of us to think we feel you; because we can’t. We cannot feel you. We cannot feel your pain. We cannot heal you; because we are not numb. And the pain we feel right now is unbearable. We are broken. And our soul hurts, because you were a part of us that’s no longer here. And no we can’t feel your pain. And you can’t feel mine because you are cold in post-mortem. And I stand here soul broken… enraged…hurt…building monuments and filling churches…

Because he was only…..he was only….years young. Breathing life. Only to never breathe again. 

-M.Seraphin

(Still about 3 more poems I havent put to paper. Losing my ipod I lost a many of notes. But I still have a few new things to post. Stay Tuned. Or catch me at an Open Mic.)

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

Poetic Knowledge "The Knowing"

"TEDxVirginiaTech"

I know why 4 times 4 is 16; because in the third grade Ms. Campbell taught me. Proving to me that 0 times 10 isn’t 100 and that teachers don’t live at school. 

I know how to solve all of our issues with education. I know because Lean Six Sigma taught me; how to maximize quality and minimize waste. Imagine if our educational system operated at manufacturing students at a rate of 3.4 defects per million. Using DMAIC, define measure analyze improve, control. I know because I’ve had a few black belt teachers. 

I know everything, and the only thing you know is you’re a jerk. 

I know why you are scared of tests. I know why you do not excel in school. It’s because someone told you C’s and D’s equal degrees but never told you there aren’t any 2.0 (GPA) jobs. 

I know it all. And it is because I am so poetically prophetic. 

I know why stomachs growl; because Ramen is more than an arm’s reach away and the McClone combo and genetically modified everything never looks like it did in that commercial. But the taste is always worth it. A small dash of high blood pressure, a few spoons of high cholesterol, antibiotics, steroids and meat glue. I know because I’m hungry right now. And need something that’s finger licking good. I know.

I know what makes you mad and grinds your gears; because Kony 2012 taught me. We get sucked into the current trends and forget all about the issues that truly matters because of a real nice video clip and a Facebook page that everyone likes but no one wants to come with me to start Fargo 2013 and I know more people in debt than with degrees and next time, we should occupy the highways.

I know why you sleep. Because of Mary J, or that needle piercing your vein and every other drug in your blood sang you a lullaby, the constant self-medication for meditation and why you survive by the backs of Law abiding citizens who struggle day to day and check to check from working their butts off.

I know everything, from The Weekend. Because I’ve been good since Thursday. 

I know how to spit a quick 16 bars, because the fact remains that your favorite rapper went to college. These rapping actors perform daily, “Microphone, Lights, Camera, Action, Spit bars about murder, crime and served time, CUT” then go home. I know because I’ve seen each and every last one of their degrees. 

I know that you can change a life with just a word. I’m not saying through conversation and phrases, I said just one word. I know of your thoughts of blade glides and contemplating suicide and I know that you could’ve been saved you heard just one word; because they weren't strumming your pains with their fingers or singing your life with their words but killing you softly with their silence. And sometimes that one word is “Hi”; sometimes it not you just passing by or being orally armed to do bodily harm, when someone is seemingly screaming for poetic justice. And if you can change a life with just a word, imagine how many it would take to change the world. I know because I studied a many of Words I Never Said and because I saw a million flashcards on YouTube. 

I know your problems. I know your struggles and pains. What’s inside your brain and the source of the rain in your soul that keeps your soul.... stained. 

I know why we have dreams, why we have aspirations and goals.

I know what you are capable of...achieving; because I've seen it in my nightmares and on the news. 

Think of what you know. 

I know a little bit, just a little. Like why most would volunteer to be a victim rather than a pay to be a success.

I know that if I set myself on fire I’d be a trending topic with a million views because the world would rather watch me burn. People would pay a lot more to see me fail than succeed. I know because I learned it from Mayweather, Mr. Woods and LeBron.

I know almost nothing. Or maybe just can’t remember. 

But I do know what you did. What your baby bombing I mean baby booming generation did. 

Because you see there are known known’s. There are things I know I know. I also know there are known unknowns. That is to say I know there’s some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknown’s. The ones I don’t know I know. 

I know why it rains. Each drop is that from the tears of those whose tears were never seen. Each crack of lightning is from the cries and screams that were never heard. I know because of Rwanda in 94’, Cambodia from 74’-79’, Darfur in 03’; I know what was done from 1933 to 1945. I know about 1620 to 1865. About 1865 to the present. I know because the memories of generations of pain cannot be erased and can be seen in our eyes.

I know the two richest places in the world. Sparkling with creative genius and talent. Actors ready for their Training Day, Composers that could rival Mozart and Bach, Billionaires that could’ve made their first million with ease, Authors with thoughts of writing books as powerful as a Bible, Rappers that weren't Ready to Die, but Live; because the two riches places in the world are the tomb and the womb. Souls with greatness buried or born within them. I know because Mr. Nugent said for me to “Fulfill my Passion”. And Eric Thomas said I had a unique opportunity to make my dreams become a reality.

I know why kids cry, men yell, and women scream. Because pedophiles, murderers, and rapist terrorize this earth and if or when they are not judged by what you think to be god, they will definitely be judged by mine. 

I know that I should have died a million times over. But I too had a dream and have yet to fulfill it, and am blessed to make it to this stage. 

I've told you everything that I know. I know everything....Which means I know nothing. 

Moises Seraphin

If Only You Knew

"If only...."

If only you knew,

That every morning I stand in the mirror flexing for a good 5 minutes, dancing to PYT and telling myself, “I am 5 foot 11 and a half and my muscles are huge”, If only you knew,

I used to have this dream. And I hated it because I would, walk into the bathroom, stand at the urinal and handle my business. But it sucked because every time I woke up from that god forsaken nightmare I had wet the bed, If only you knew,

That when I’m in the presence of beauty I start stu-stu stutter and look away to not be lost in her eyes. So instead I gaze at her waist and thighs, to not be sucked into her....boo...I mean beauty. And yet at times I fail miserably. If you knew,

I found the girl of my dreams and I loved her but wasn’t in love with her. She loved me more than any other but I couldn’t love her. And it sucks because the girl of my nightmares stole my heart damning me to never love again. I found true love but had my soul go cold and ripped from my chest, If only you knew,

That I don’t call my dad as much as I should. And I tell him its because I’m busy even though I’m really not. And I can never find the words to tell him he is my biggest hero. My icon... And I strive to be half the man he is. Showing me what its like to love god and all unconditionally. How to become a father, teacher, mentor, pastor, man and human all in one, If only you knew,

That my parents pray every morning for me just in case I forget.

That I’ve forever wondered what legacy I’ll leave behind and what they will say when I’m gone. Because I’ve imagined my body..... without life, If only you knew,

I should be dead 100 times over. Did you know?

I came out fighting from birth. I came out feet first with a cord around my neck...choking me.... and upon surviving hours of labor without drowning they named me Moises. Did you know?

In high school I remember a day when I was going too fast in the rain trying to beat the light and make a turn.. And my car skid into oncoming traffic and stopped feet from the others coming the opposite way who stopped....because the light went from yellow to red. Did you know?

That last school year I was going through hell. I could’nt sleep all semester...I couldn’t sleep. And the time I did...I was driving. The alignment in my car that always goes right went left and I hit the rail and didn’t go over that 50+ foot drop, If only you knew,

That inside of every manly exterior is boy who at times sobs.

In my vivid dreams I see things I can’t touch.

Sometimes I feel pain and it isn’t my own....It’s yours. I taste your trials, tribulations and pain. I feel your tears in the rain. I hear your screams in the back of my brain, and I write down everything I see in these poems, If only you knew,

At times I shred tears when I write because I feel every single word, If only you knew,

That there is a god... A god who has been blessing me every step of the way.

That I am blessed beyond measure and I spend hours wondering why me, If only you knew....

If only you knew....


And if you didn’t.....now you know.



-Moises Seraphin