7.08.2010

Speaker Volume

More of a symbol than symbolic
trying to best it would make you a relic.

There's an elephant in the room
and I'm it.
Big nose and obvious
but he's gray and I'm black
the gray may be a reflection
of the rain that has passed over me
I'll wear it like a battle scar,
till its no longer fashion to me.
I wear emotions on my sleeves
My outfits make statements,
more like press releases,
I dress for questions,
this rhetoric turns thread into thesis
booted up like i was born in this outfit
like i was born feeling this way
i sported it so long
im where's waldo everywhere
red and white stripes
this feeling of winning at barely
is killing me while steadily saving me
im producing blood at the rate im loosing
can you picture it
the outfit
the emotion
composed of regret and success
at a rate the cancels each other out
red and white stripes
waldo blended in
because both success and regret
filled the page
but im alone in this book
and the elephant doesn't mind the attention
just wishes it was more impressive
as if the volume never capped
you just turned it up
and until you went deaf
then maybe the attention
would be matched by the performance
(to be cont'd... maybe)

7.06.2010

Back From The Future: A Sermon

Back From The Future: A Sermon from Xon Up on Vimeo.

This sermon was only the 2nd I had done in my return to my home church, Family Of Faith Church, in Wagoner, Oklahoma. The concept behind this message was to inform the Body of Christ, that we're to not only look towards God's promises, but we're to act upon them also. Taking the steps to fulfilling the vision we have from God

7.05.2010

New type of post

For anyone who has read the About Me section of this blog or follows me on Twitter at twitter@troyflewellenjr, knows that I'm a preacher, poet, and philosopher. I have posted poetry, and now am looking into posting my sermons. My philosophy will follow. I am a member at Family Of Faith Church in Wagoner, OK. I've been a ministering there since its conception almost 2 years ago.

7.01.2010

Nostradamus Fell In

death is a matter of catastrophic moments
but this moment in time is brought to you by now
this tense being more cognitive than faith-base
I'm in this present with you

-and im waiting for us to unravel
which for most, it implies explosion
for us, its the moment we respond
to what we've seen beyond each others veil

no prophet needed, we are seeing into the "now"
that has laid naked under covers
it holds the breath you took when i saw you
it can keep it, your energy has become my respirator

life support has been replaced by the love of it
i hope this present vision,
is what youve come to this island for, with me
our now is beautiful and in no way ending
unless we over anticipate the future

6.26.2010

Recant(ation)

I apologize for thinking of leaving
the voice in my ear
had me under the influence
that my now would cure my occurring forever

6.23.2010

Faithfulless ( A poetic memo)

she stays in my ear
when she doesnt stay near
and the distance is growing
and the volume is getting louder
im devoted
my passion and love are religious
and have been practioners of your doctrine
since our communion
studied your apocalypse stories
with fervent attention
but it appears
our end is coming- our end is near
our end is coming- our end is near
love aint supposed to feel like this
or maybe it is when its been improperly handled
im trying to return to the faith
I once knew, but it appears
no clergy are here
love is not meant to be worshipped alone
these pews have grown cold
from lack of occupancy
so proselytization is taken place
if not to know another diety
atleast to experience ignorance
knowing nothing is better
than knowing the wrong thing
so this memo comes on the brink
of self excommunication
resignation pending
lack of communication
the same spring feelings that filled me
are killing me,
this new voice of reason
isnt logical either
but love is faith based
when your services end early
its pamplets are passed out
I've read some before when i was younger
some are familiar
however im still your paritionar
however let me know if your closed
or looking for new members

6.18.2010

Letter to a Friend (Runaway Martyrs)

this is where we last met.
in our thoughts.
congregated in our theories
-our perspectives never really synced
but we held a play list
that kept us to the beat of the same drum
and thats when our histories didnt matter
we wanted to become martyrs
and they die because of their future
being so potent, tales or told of them
and no one knows them
just like we didnt know ourselves
labeled ourselves rebels, because society
was becoming the bastard child
of our God, all praise YAHWEH
our rebellion left to defiance
against hands wielding help
because we knew of the price it came with
we were meant to be runaways
but when i left and you stayed
martyrdom became the least of your concerns
nobody dies for nothing
"nobody's" die for nothing
so im spending this time changing my social status
you didnt care, you were more rebel than me
and when we realized the discipline
necessary to become a martyr
was almost hypocritical to the free birds we became
i stayed and you left
and now our tales are different
and our roads to martyrdom are different
these bars that now hold you
must hold you.
try not to escape
but to face this moment
and let this system that was meant to hide you
reveal the rebel you are
now more disciplined
im waiting at the stake
im building a future so potent
its intoxication will occur upon thought
our thoughts
where we last met

sincerely
x of man, rebel mind

6.11.2010

Death of a Virgin

Never cut
So pure, it goes straight for the veins
Interesting how some things in life remain
Pure and others become intoxicated
So the mind is both sober
And infiltrated
She kept her chin up
Bright eyed full of luck
Or unlucky how things changed so quickly
Her mood rings was always cycling
A shifting dis-chord makes a sound breakdown
But her instruments played for the hell of it
And when hell was its hottest
She turned to the note in the bottle
Her sips became movements
That would sedate her sexuality
Eventually kept it covered up but told everyone about it
2nd movement was amusement
Just to see where the road would take her
3rd movement (break)
was the one that landed on her dress
She was a mess by then so it was
On to the 4th movement
To buy some security
Insure her responsibility was hanging on her key ring
Which she needed a driver
But learned to do her thing
So underneath the bottle she sipped from
Everything she ever ran away from
She never let go
Next to the get-away, hanged her day to day
So she kept her legs closed,
Can’t let her God’s secret be so exposed
Not because it was God’s but because
It was her last gift to him
And the backlash from not having a present
Meant she felt out of place at the party
So she kept in a box
No matter how many drinks she knocked back
Even went on her knees in servitude
In a pseudo prayer it would stay locked up
And love wouldn’t leave
But problems were cyclical and crescendo’ing
So sips became more frequent
And less decent
No one got passed the box, though
Because no one knew where her heart was
It held the key to it
And they both had the same locks
However, hearts grow cold
And objects in life can get lost in ice
However with no caution to take the wind
Nothing ever changed
Nothing to solve her problems and few to look for the key
So she married her bottle
But they never conceived, only conceptually
Until what poured out her wrist was
Her alcohol and sexuality.

5.30.2010

foreign policy: reject the aff

We are quite the opposites
Sometimes it seemed we were nations apart
Your country’s history and mines
Didn’t collide, But met like ends
I was looking for a treaty
To infatuatedly create our foreign policy
Interested in your GDP, and infrastructure
I became literate in your tongue
(More figurative than I hoped)
Not to impress you but to understand you
Emotions don’t get lost in translation
But still I learned you language
To learn how you love and felt love
But I’m feeling this (speechless moment)
Like my WMD aren’t meant to be discovered
in your territories
Prior obligations with other nations
and my country is too barbaric
so there’s no foreign policy to address
just nations, we’re just nations

different lover

I am a different lover
From when you first thought of me
The first image was too exposed
The next was us severing
The arsonist’s tree with our names carved in
Eventually burned down
With more seeds to plant
I was exploring more ground
But im a different lover now
No seeds to see grow
Because when I moved on
- My steps were irreversible
And now there’s a new etching
In a new location
Closer to my heart
Further from my past

5.27.2010

Dear You:

Lets keep this a secret
Pinky promises with our hands
Full of things we’re achieving
Our goals should be warned
We’re closing in on them
They’re trapped in a corner
But I don’t want to playback
My payback, just the moment
I knew I would make it
I'm embracing right now
In my hands forever
Seeing clouds
That are keeping the Xon fresh
Worlds may little note
But I'm off-key
So others remembering
Are Game-boys for offspring
Not into extra
Just completion
And even though we’re
Not each others reasons
Beacons are being followed
Lines are being crossed
we're winning

5.24.2010

love poem #2

Haven't seen you in weeks
-writings poems
-youre my muse

Can you call me "baby"

talent, minds, and hand grenades

a 2 year old climbs on top of a chair
smiles and jumps down, classic
primal behavior
even harlots become martyrs
when their lack of achievement
sounds like stardom
me
Im just trying to make it
but the me in me
wants more
money to buy the store but cant afford
what’s in stored
the price to be admired
makes memories out of trial
so im in line for the fountain
my mind knows im thirsty
drink up
work in the morning
dont drink too much
but you want aggressive
and this is two hand touch

men wear t-shirts with affliction
hell, they all going to hell
pursuit of presence
is spiritual negligence
and partitions the perdition
pardon my de la soul
mr Wendell dont have ringtones
and these by gones
be by God
makes these guns
shot by goons
sound so coon
and its in my moments of being medicated
or more socially affiliated
that keep my meditations abbreviated
revelations as half statements
i write in incomplete synthesis
and my audience left at lost

5.21.2010

Lov(her) Deux

I found it in her eyes.
What I was looking for.

There’s something to love about a “yes.”
Simple. Realistic. Giving.

I found it in her eyes.
The want to please.
The want to be respected.

We bloomed in the January of our bond,
Pollinated by newness
And what lied in a kiss.

I was anticipating winter
Or splintering summer,
But we remembered January.

It snows in January
But we lived beyond time,
Seasons can frustrate impulse,
Thus we lived in January.

Even when time tempted,
Circumstance panhandled for change,
when we didn’t seem to blossom,
And others said to plant more-


Seasons changed,

But our month stayed the same.
Warred on every
side, except my back
you had it like my heart.


writer’s note: loyalty is under appreciated.

5.19.2010

(Longer) Sleeves

we couldnt become lovers
because my arms felt different to you
you're armageddon left me stranded
holding on to thin air
i fell
into knowing you

your mockery made me persistent
and this antithesis
became my rite of passage
although many of my brothers
died in its process

i was blessed at conception
anointed at entrance
into this rotating schema of matter
but someone shot the stork

i now wear its feathers where
angels wore them till worn
out, im now aware that the ware
i've become is different
than the other beings molded

hoping it makes me a target
i now wear my blood on my sleeve
red eye photos remain uncircumcised
circulating through heaven
while peter sips night from the little dipper

attending gate keepers and alcoholics synonymous
he had a problem with the first step
I dont, but I'm not better
my admitting was not admittance
into your heaven  
but was relief into contentment
and communion with unleavened
 -emotions

I hear God is protecting me from you
I'll let him
I hear he has plans to go old school
80's end times and all
the only sport with 122,000 on one team
and folks are still auditioning
tryout posted on handouts
by niggas in togas

or in long basketball shorts
with fitted caps
making these cd's replace crack
personally
I dont thinks its working

And...
so quickly
I fell in air
and you're still hatin on my arms

trick, do you know who i am
my means betray my me-ness

I once drove this taurus
to see twins who managed to get rid of crabs.

who else rocks A1's, folk-music ringtones
repents, preaches, poets, and been picked up
to get locked out

and you cant get passed my arms

5.14.2010

Adidas - Adi-Rise Mid Shoes - Gray


My style

Love Poem #1

this jaded black skin
- kiss
- touch

How does it feel?

Im threatening (brought to you by the letter y)

im not angry
Im black `

whats become synonymous with one of my cultures
has created cults based on anonymity and enmity
yet we are no more homogenized than artistry

i love your boxes
i have a few of my own

whats become of stereotypes are our expectations
so now what legitimizes our autonomy as equity
is repossessed by mental infancy and bigotry

Cold press

lets not talk about love no more
its sick, the sadism is saddening
and the ramifications are permanent
the love we write about aint happenin
lets become prolific and simple
the complications of this birth
is shaping our earth
and the pen aint worth the verse
i once pricked my finger
to write about love
because thats all that seems to matter
work for some,
sports for other
politics and religion for the rest
and we're all sleepless over love
so lets talk about something else

5.06.2010

redeeming quality

Im into her
Like permanent ink
Fitted
New era
Where the
Origin looks like tempura
But its collard greens
And green beans
And even more
American than
We’d think

But, she’s in my head
Like a place to rest her head
No need for her to move
Because the room
Stays cool,
And the linens fresh
Playing Lennon’s best
I am where I am
Because
She kept her step

And then, she’s what I remember
Like California nights in summer
everyone dances
but she loves the drummer
and she loves the humor
and I was afraid of rumors
so I keep her distant
in fact, lets remain
silent (shhh)

But I’m into HIM
cause HE wanted me
despite my hers and shes
however complicated
HIS patience was waiting
to be activated
so Grace could
have me reinstated
and at the end of every poem
becomes my
REDEEMING QUALITY

5.04.2010

attraction

i'm attracted
to her
i cant turn my eyes
from the sun

but this attraction
is only a detraction
from the caption
at the bottom of
the big picture
my name is not mentioned

does your mind
photo shop like mines
airbrushing your image
were it isn't

but
what if my aspiration
are symptoms of
admiration
then my intention
could be treated by
occasion or separation

my taste has altered
but my plate has kept me full

4.03.2010

Uncircumcised

its scary how naked the truth makes us
uncut - the truth lies amongst us

they were cut into kosher
we are cut into culture
become posters of the thoughts they fostered
our minds are in pursuit
of a dream of being them
the cutters

the gate keepers
to a pseudo, whatever
     you make it out to be

what are we fighting to get into
the dress to fit into
the legs to get between
whose lips are we waiting to be pressed
up against

are they impressed
those legs, lips, hips, body
are they impressed
with our gate keeper position

i find love in the uncircumcised
the uncut
those with whom the blade couldn't
phase or alter or adjust
passion is raw and beautiful

but you've been told my passion
is ugly and worthless
so you keep me at your gate
but i never asked for entry
just removal of your tapestry

let me like you
let us like you

love is so foreign and unexplainable
liking should be enjoyed more
but your impressions force me to love
never admiring
because the real you is never showing

3.12.2010

yeah i can do that


Grocery list- eat up

I am specific
coastal regions
Pacific
Native American
Indigenous
To concepts
I subscribe
Religious
You can call me infinite
My mind pitches
In continuum
She loves my
Galactic
I battle/ships
With 2 fist
Im on this
Vibe
Magazine
cover
Up because
its cold outside
wearin shorts anticipating summertime.
But I spring
While most fall
Down
I only learned to get up
me losing
is called an upper cut

3.08.2010

bad haiku

i lov(her) more than
she'll ever knows, she is my day
that makes me pray nightly

my hawks

The hawks of this new passing
Are making there impression

And with every
Flip of their wing
And stroke
Of my pen
Its in the name of
Saul Williams
Shihan
Black Ice
D’bi Young
Jill Scott
Mos Def
Common Sense
Poetri
Suheir Hammad
Lymon
Ishle Yi Parks
Those in corners cradling stories in the pen
Those in coffee shops fitting stereotypes
While not admitting it
And those who hide it like
The dirty secret under their covers
At night
I am spoken word
Not because of Tennyson
Wordsworth, William Carlos William
But like them
I saw an outlet
For my love and rebellion

3.06.2010

sexy religion


Look
How far
I’ve
Fallen

If I were as persistent
As my calling was adamant
My short fallings
Wouldn’t hinder my calling
Calling like ringing
In my ear and heart
I’m not where I was
Not because of my start

Do you follow?
Ok

But now my infamous
Self-awareness
Is saving me from me
Accurately documenting
The whole thing
The whole thing
But I’m saved
By the gist of it
Didn’t take a theologian
To see I need
A shift from this
My soul
Is helpless
Not lacking a savior
But in relying
On the one I have

Sexy Religion

I
Thought I needed
Sex appeal
My spiritual
Conviction wasn’t enough
Anymore
So I submitted
My image
Over His image
Thinking
The world would
Love my God given…
Whatever?
They did… He didn’t
And now empty
Wrappers fill my trash cans
And now empty
Rapper’s fill my headset
Because Idle pawns
Are captured on chest sets

In pursuit
Of something to do
I figured I could be both
Sexy and religious
It turned into
Sex me and
Lord forgive this
Act of
Extrication

I hear
Every knee will bow
And even computers
Shut down
So hear I am
Absent my truths
My theories
In effort to look
more like you
sexy is the covenant
to appear like him
religion is the situation
something I wont quit

im makin a come back
On his back, because
That’s truly were
My starts at

3.05.2010

floating metaphor

Im into
You
I know
You feel
The same

We’re picture
Perfect
As long as
Its you’re frame
-
I don’t mind
The conspiracy
-
No binds legally
But diggin the feelin
You’re feelin me
-
Atleast these
Letters are lyrically
-
My vowels are constant
As these
Consonants are my instruments
-
I’d write a
Sonnet of a symphony
Just to see
If your eyes
Were hearin me
-
but for now
I’ll just chill
No more typin
My hands
See your body
And want to
Start writin

lov(her)


im in love

3.04.2010

play

i want her
like i just met her
still
more like steal
'ing the moment

I want to play with
her
like i do woRdzz

i never sleep
when she's in my head
so i giv(her) curfews
because the insomnia
makes me dream.

hallucinate

If only dreaming
was the essence
of sleep

I wish love
was innocent
like
when i first met it
back in middle school
but now its
lost control of
its weight
doesnt clean up
wont work
curses like a sailor
spends money

i dont know
about love anymore
i just know
that i still want "her"

and as long as her
loves me, reciprocally

o i knw u luv this

to much time on our hands, makes for an interesting time.

3.03.2010

poetry is not literal

I roam
where phones go silent
and the message
in the bottle
is when the liquor
starts talking
to you
and you love the sound of its voice
so much
you put your lips
to the opening
to hear with your tongue
its revelations
and affirmations

i go to liquor
to give me an excuse
for my feelings

i ask the bottom
of the bottle for healing
mayB
or correction
but it just makes
me focus on her
she's not my her
biblical
still her father's
but my mind
MST want to make
a martyr
of my heart

simply serious


I like fashion that doesn't change your mind. Just catches your eye. I have a firm belief that fashion should add both style and spirit but not prohibit your daily functionality. The price for fashion should not be in wearing it but preparation.

expo

I wear it on my sleeve
because its "in" fashion
to love one and watch others
they seem to be companions

My eyes picked her
pict(her)perfect
from my viewpoint

Mind you, im next
to my own love

, who says there's true love

im tryin to rewrite poetry
put hours on poetry

but love wants structure
and poetry dont use period
so no time to write and run

i told love i'll put her first
I guess... I will
if i cant write some poetry
can i do something else in speech

3.02.2010

something for the rain

something
wants you in the light
and shadow