I hold your footsteps in my memories
multitudes of me
once sleepwalking
all want you.
In this now
my entire experience
is you.
I want you...
grant me this
grant me now
grant me u.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
one random thought that became just one verse...
Do you have a light to light my way
through these dark and cloudy days
do you have some change to spare
to pay the fare to get me there
Sometimes it seems
I'm the only one who feels the need
to see the son
But in my heart I know its not true
'cause in their faces all i see is you
Sometimes its hard to remain unchanging
in this ever changing world
its seems I'm the only one remaining
who feels the need to touch a hand
and look into eyes that understand
my truth
is you.
through these dark and cloudy days
do you have some change to spare
to pay the fare to get me there
Sometimes it seems
I'm the only one who feels the need
to see the son
But in my heart I know its not true
'cause in their faces all i see is you
Sometimes its hard to remain unchanging
in this ever changing world
its seems I'm the only one remaining
who feels the need to touch a hand
and look into eyes that understand
my truth
is you.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Oops! Almost Forgot
July 1st was my birthday. My best friend Moisses from high school used to make fun of me when I would do what he would call in his best Walter Cronkite voice "The Year in Review" Damn I said Walter Cronkite I must be getting old. Anyways here it goes.
1. This year I learned that although it is important to continue to have faith in people they can still disappoint you. If one stays mindful of this then they have a greater capacity for forgiveness of the dissappointer and the disapointee. I'm still working on the latter.
2. Laughter is soooooo important. Still working on that one.
3. My mom's favorite phrase during my youth up was "Fuck the Dumb Shit! I guess she was right.
4. I'm 39 now and this will be my last official year as a "thirtysomethinger". I could cram a whole bunch of stuff into this year in an effort to get it in before I'm officially 40. But that would be dumb. I'm just happy to be alive.
5. I used to watch thirtysomething when I was about 17. I remember being so intrigued by the lives of the white middle class folks in that show whose lives had absolutely nothing to do with my experience at the time. That's the magic of TV I guess. I guess the fact that I just bought a house makes me middle class. But I'm not white so I'm still a little curious about the connection. I think I might rent all the episodes on netflix just to see what all the fuss in my imagination was about.
Ok there it is. This has been yet another year in review. I'm Craig Knight and that's the way it is.
1. This year I learned that although it is important to continue to have faith in people they can still disappoint you. If one stays mindful of this then they have a greater capacity for forgiveness of the dissappointer and the disapointee. I'm still working on the latter.
2. Laughter is soooooo important. Still working on that one.
3. My mom's favorite phrase during my youth up was "Fuck the Dumb Shit! I guess she was right.
4. I'm 39 now and this will be my last official year as a "thirtysomethinger". I could cram a whole bunch of stuff into this year in an effort to get it in before I'm officially 40. But that would be dumb. I'm just happy to be alive.
5. I used to watch thirtysomething when I was about 17. I remember being so intrigued by the lives of the white middle class folks in that show whose lives had absolutely nothing to do with my experience at the time. That's the magic of TV I guess. I guess the fact that I just bought a house makes me middle class. But I'm not white so I'm still a little curious about the connection. I think I might rent all the episodes on netflix just to see what all the fuss in my imagination was about.
Ok there it is. This has been yet another year in review. I'm Craig Knight and that's the way it is.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
R.I.P Michael Jackson
I just learned that one of the greatest pop stars to ever grace a stage or screen has passed on to the great beyond. I always wondered where I'd be, what I'd be doing or how I would feel on the day he passed. I can honestly say that I feel nothing but gratitude that I was able to witness his greatness and be a part of the generation that spawned him. May he finally rest in peace.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
A Humble Request
Here I stand five days away from payday, surrounded and drowning in the muck left by the indifferent, under achieving and disillusioned…broke and aggravated. There is a burning in my belly bordering between gas and exasperation. Lately, I have been greeting each day with a gritted tooth smile. Good mornings are still customary in my little world even among the aliens that do not share this custom. Needless to say, I need a reason to smile today…just today. I will take care of tomorrow. To the best of my ability I will treat all suggestions,jokes,funny stories etc. equally without pomp or judgment. Consider this a loan of sorts. I’ll hit you back on payday.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Spike Lee: One of the Family
Submitted this one on Wheresmars.com which is a site dedicated to the celebration of Spike Lee as one of the founders of the Black Arts Movement in Brooklyn USA. Feel free to check it out.
http://www.wheresmars.com
As a New Jersey transplant, I received my first understanding of this place called Brooklyn from watching Spike Lee movies.
I was introduced to a neighborhood unlike any I had ever seen: from the quirky ramblings of Buggin’ Out; to the gentle nurturing of Mother Sister. It was the first time I experienced blackness as a thing to be admired for its beauty and diversity and constant state of flux, with jazz and hip-hop as the soundtrack of our multifaceted lives.
Spike Lee was to the 1990’s what James Baldwin and Langston Hughes were to the page during the Harlem Renaissance. With the urban landscape as his canvas, he painted our flaws and triumphs with equal honesty. Lee in essence allowed us to laugh at ourselves without shame and at the same time aspire to improve our conditions.
This is a quality every Brooklynite — in his own right — strives to achieve. It is an essence evident in the general attitudes of its citizens which to the outsider can be perceived as chauvinism.
If one has any doubt, I dare to criticize the Knicks in the presence of Lee or any other fan. What the outsider may not know is that these people (to quote Bowie) ‘are quite aware of what they are going through.’ But, to be criticized by anyone outside of family would be considered an unmentionable act.
Spike’s genius is in his knowledge of this unwritten law which he has thrown down on to the American landscape, like Moses, to be shared not only with his Brooklyn kin, but with his extended family throughout the Diaspora.
There can be no doubt that Spike Lee’s work has been woven into the fabric of Brooklyn culture. The honor of having a day in his namesake is long over due.
http://www.wheresmars.com
As a New Jersey transplant, I received my first understanding of this place called Brooklyn from watching Spike Lee movies.
I was introduced to a neighborhood unlike any I had ever seen: from the quirky ramblings of Buggin’ Out; to the gentle nurturing of Mother Sister. It was the first time I experienced blackness as a thing to be admired for its beauty and diversity and constant state of flux, with jazz and hip-hop as the soundtrack of our multifaceted lives.
Spike Lee was to the 1990’s what James Baldwin and Langston Hughes were to the page during the Harlem Renaissance. With the urban landscape as his canvas, he painted our flaws and triumphs with equal honesty. Lee in essence allowed us to laugh at ourselves without shame and at the same time aspire to improve our conditions.
This is a quality every Brooklynite — in his own right — strives to achieve. It is an essence evident in the general attitudes of its citizens which to the outsider can be perceived as chauvinism.
If one has any doubt, I dare to criticize the Knicks in the presence of Lee or any other fan. What the outsider may not know is that these people (to quote Bowie) ‘are quite aware of what they are going through.’ But, to be criticized by anyone outside of family would be considered an unmentionable act.
Spike’s genius is in his knowledge of this unwritten law which he has thrown down on to the American landscape, like Moses, to be shared not only with his Brooklyn kin, but with his extended family throughout the Diaspora.
There can be no doubt that Spike Lee’s work has been woven into the fabric of Brooklyn culture. The honor of having a day in his namesake is long over due.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
moments of clarity (revisited)
I wrote this one a while ago when I was still doing that myspace thing. I'm not sure why I'm rehashing it. It could be because there are an increasing number of kids carrying guitars in the halls where I teach (which I am told is my fault). Or it could be that I recently broke a string. I don't know I guess I'll figure it out later.
It's about 1:15 in the morning. I just came home from an open mike in a place called Kili on Hoyt Street in Brooklyn. I've been drinking. I think that my performance was on fire! But, as I mentioned earlier, I've been drinking. Now anyone knows that when you've been drinking (or other fun "ing" words) your view on life can sometimes become very clear. My friend Mikel likes to call these moments "moments of clarity"; like when you wake up and discover that the job you've had for years really does suck and you wasted 20 years. It's kind of like that. I had a few of those moments tonight. However; they may or may not be considered as tragic as the one I just mentioned in the example. This of course would depend on the reader's choice of "ing" activities prior to reading this.
Moment 1: While in the bar, I had a conversation with my friend Sharrief about how I named both of my guitars after my deceased grandmothers. Their names are Lilly after my paternal grandmother Lillian Downing and Mattie after my maternal grandmother Mattie Ruth Patterson. I was not hit with this moment of clarity until I took the stage and started to play. Somehow during a spell of egotism as my surface self was sensing the admiration of the crowd and thinking "damn I'm kickin' ass up here", my insecure self was reflecting on a conversation that I once had with a producer regarding my playing. He told me that he loved my songs but when I played them he could sense that I had not yet gotten to know my instrument. He felt that my songs would be more felt if I developed more of an intimacy with it. I remember thinking that what he was saying sounded a lot like masturbation. Fast forwarding to tonight, the moment of clarity came when I realized that he was right...that is about the guitar part but I digress. Although there is a chance that he could have just been planting a self fullfilling prophecy in my brain, it didn't make the moment any less powerful or any less prophetic. So I guess (he says reluctantly)he deserves my thanks.
Moment 2: This is the part where the "ing" thing counts. After my performance I also realized that I often feel these voids of intimacy when playing the very guitars that bare my grandmother's names. And then I realized that just like I don't know my guitars I never really knew my grandmothers either. I loved them both, but I never got to know them them as people. Anyone who sees this connection might also see the tragedy here.
Moment 3: In the cab ride home I started thinking that maybe there was some kind of deep revelation that I was stumbling upon. Maybe this connection with my guitars meant that I had to start calling my parents, aunts and uncles and getting information on my grandmothers so that some black history month movie of the week moment would happen and the spirits of those great women would jump into my guitars with each bit of knowledge and turn me into a supernatural Robert Johnson type dude. But then the moment of clarity came when reality yanked me out of the daze, shook its head at me and said "nope dat ain't it". I realized at that moment that if any of those women were alive today they would tell me that the only way I'm going to get to know my guitar is by picking it up every day and playing it.
I guess maybe I did know those ladies after all.
It's about 1:15 in the morning. I just came home from an open mike in a place called Kili on Hoyt Street in Brooklyn. I've been drinking. I think that my performance was on fire! But, as I mentioned earlier, I've been drinking. Now anyone knows that when you've been drinking (or other fun "ing" words) your view on life can sometimes become very clear. My friend Mikel likes to call these moments "moments of clarity"; like when you wake up and discover that the job you've had for years really does suck and you wasted 20 years. It's kind of like that. I had a few of those moments tonight. However; they may or may not be considered as tragic as the one I just mentioned in the example. This of course would depend on the reader's choice of "ing" activities prior to reading this.
Moment 1: While in the bar, I had a conversation with my friend Sharrief about how I named both of my guitars after my deceased grandmothers. Their names are Lilly after my paternal grandmother Lillian Downing and Mattie after my maternal grandmother Mattie Ruth Patterson. I was not hit with this moment of clarity until I took the stage and started to play. Somehow during a spell of egotism as my surface self was sensing the admiration of the crowd and thinking "damn I'm kickin' ass up here", my insecure self was reflecting on a conversation that I once had with a producer regarding my playing. He told me that he loved my songs but when I played them he could sense that I had not yet gotten to know my instrument. He felt that my songs would be more felt if I developed more of an intimacy with it. I remember thinking that what he was saying sounded a lot like masturbation. Fast forwarding to tonight, the moment of clarity came when I realized that he was right...that is about the guitar part but I digress. Although there is a chance that he could have just been planting a self fullfilling prophecy in my brain, it didn't make the moment any less powerful or any less prophetic. So I guess (he says reluctantly)he deserves my thanks.
Moment 2: This is the part where the "ing" thing counts. After my performance I also realized that I often feel these voids of intimacy when playing the very guitars that bare my grandmother's names. And then I realized that just like I don't know my guitars I never really knew my grandmothers either. I loved them both, but I never got to know them them as people. Anyone who sees this connection might also see the tragedy here.
Moment 3: In the cab ride home I started thinking that maybe there was some kind of deep revelation that I was stumbling upon. Maybe this connection with my guitars meant that I had to start calling my parents, aunts and uncles and getting information on my grandmothers so that some black history month movie of the week moment would happen and the spirits of those great women would jump into my guitars with each bit of knowledge and turn me into a supernatural Robert Johnson type dude. But then the moment of clarity came when reality yanked me out of the daze, shook its head at me and said "nope dat ain't it". I realized at that moment that if any of those women were alive today they would tell me that the only way I'm going to get to know my guitar is by picking it up every day and playing it.
I guess maybe I did know those ladies after all.
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