she waits: her vow of celibacy

she sits singing he own song, drumming with every step.

rubbing no spots, scratching no itches. she works, hard.

having rebuilt her dreams, chasing, reaching, awakening.

she strums on every string that could possibly give a sweet note.

her love of composition, sweet symphony of melody, overweighs at any time that of bittersweet attempts at penetration.

i've locked it up & threw away the key!

way inside you could never reach, solely, soully, slowly.

seconds before words. minutes staring. dwelling lips wondering, watching, waiting.

for days innocent, reason-less, relentless compensation. stroking for weeks. 

At weakness.

months & stars of wishing.

she waits patiently, unexacting. watching the heat of day turn in to the cool of night. for something that was beautiful. i let myself down, i got pulled into the common trap of believing my life was made up of obsessing with men.

she waits accepting this reaction as response to a wish of resolution.

my depth screams at me with closed lips, pulls at me, epitomizing my hypocrisy.  

when the karma of relationships is gone and only love remains. grace nestling around me. my intention is only of freedom from useless pain.

Gino Obuseng

parts of me

PT. 1

words, that hurt, words, provoke. insist. open flood gates and instill a weight, that seeps, dwells, sits & hide at the back of holding on tight to a nerve. ready to tug. but how do you put so much pain on paper. how does the ink dry, or the paper withstand the lead of this pencil when soaked right thru from the back & front of this book. with tears. tears that not only represent learning, but embody depth similar to oceans, rivers & lakes that separate us, even as we hold hands. PT.2 how do you say I'm sorry, again? forgive me just like before. run with me in this fearful existence. how do i whisper softly over this noise sensually, easily. in how many languages exactly could i tell you i've been thinking 'bout you? how with sentiments do i explain to you why i watch you sleep? i must admit, its not too much that i complain about, but too little.

Gino Obuseng

thinks & thoughts

The tragedies of my life have been of a personal and largely self created nature. I had a crisis of identity, but also had the resources, (artistically) with which to try to work it out.

 

Grateful to be free tonight from the depression that had been gnawing at me like a rat over the years, a depression that had chewed such perforations in my soul that I would not at one time been able to enjoy even such a lovely evening as this.

 

I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man rather than with the man himself, and then I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for him to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been, (due to lack of another word) the ‘victim’ of my own optimism.

And many times have been a victim of my own pessimism. Not trying, waiting, and knowing what comes next. Knowing silence breaks the flow.

 

People universally tend to think that happiness is stroke of luck, something that will maybe descend upon you like fine weather if you are fortunate enough. Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it and sometimes travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestation of your own blessings.

 

I used to disappear into the person I love. I am their permeable membrane. If I love you, you can have everything; my time, devotion, ass and money. Everything! I will carry for you all your pain, assume for you all your debts, protect you from your insecurities, project upon you all sorts of good qualities that you have never actually cultivated in yourself and give you the sun and rain. All this and more until I get so exhausted and depleted that the only way to recover is to become infatuated with something else. Exhausted by the cumulative consequences of a (young) lifetime of hasty choices and chaotic passions, my body and spirit depleted. I felt like the soil on some desperate sharecroppers’ farm, sorely overworked and needing a fallow season. So I quit.

 

But you see letting go is a scary enterprise for those of us who believe that the world revolves only because it has a handle on the top of it which we personally turn, and that if we were to drop this handle for even a moment, well- that would be the end of the universe. Sit quietly and cease your relentless participation. Watch what happens. The birds do not crash dead out of the sky in mid flight. The trees do not wither and die and the rivers do not run red with blood. Life continues to go on. Why are we so sure that our micromanagement of every moment in this whole world is so essential? Why don’t we just let it be?

 

How many more types of people can one keep trying to love and continue to fail? Think of it this way – if you’d had 10 serious traffic accidents in a row, wouldn’t they eventually take your license away? Wouldn’t you kind of want them to?

 

People tend to think that a soul mate is your perfect fit and that that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet because they tear down the walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever… too painful. Soul mates come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you and then they leave.

 

They touch a place in your heart deeper than you thought you were capable of reaching. But WAIT until you can see how much more deeply you can love, you have the capability of loving the whole world.

But because the world is so corrupted, misspoken, unstable, exaggerated and unfair. One usually trusts only what one can experience with one’s senses.

 

This life that you live “man” is the only life you know. In this moment, for every moment, and everything that you make is on you. Loneliness is a curse.

So learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it.

WELCOME TO THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE!

Never again use another person’s body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.

And I’ll never forget once upon a time, in an unguarded moment, I recognized myself a friend.

 

 

 

But how can I accept that bliss when it comes with this dark underside-bone crushing isolation, corrosive insecurity, insidious resentment and, of course, the complete dismantling of self that inevitably occurs when ‘he’ ceases to giveth and commences to taketh away.

 

Gino Obuseng

everyone

Everyone’s war: to try to disentangle the built in glitches of the human condition, which I am going to try and over-simply define as the heartbreaking inability to sustain contentment. Different schools of thought over the centuries have found different explanations for man’s apparently inherently flawed state. Taoists call it imbalance, Buddhism calls it ignorance, Islam blames our misery on rebellion against God, and Judeo-Christians tradition attributes all our suffering to original sin. Freudians say that unhappiness is the inevitable result of the clash between our natural drives and civilization’s needs.

Some say, “Desire is the design flaw”.

The Yogis, say that human discontentment is a simple case of mistaken identity.

 

We are miserable because we think we are mere individuals, alone with our fears and flaws and resentments and mortality. We wrongly believe that our limited little egos constitute our whole entire nature. We have failed to recognize our deeper divine character. We don’t realize that, somewhere within us all, there does exist a supreme Self who is eternally at peace. That supreme Self is our true identity, universal and devine. Before you realize this truth, you will always be in despair.

 

“You bear God within you, poor wretch, and know it not”. Epictetus

 

It is the effort to experience one’s divinity personally and hold on to that experience forever. It’s about self mastery and the dedicated effort to haul your attention away from your endless brooding over the past and your nonstop worrying about the future so that you can seek, instead, a place of eternal presence from which you may regard yourself and your surroundings with poise. Only from that point of even-mindedness will the true nature of the world be revealed to you.

 

Human life is a very special opportunity, because only in a human form and only with a human mind can God-realization ever occur. The turnips, the bedbugs, the coral, they never get the chance to find out who they really are. But we do have that chance.

 

So, our whole business therefore in this life, is to restore to health the eye of the heart whereby God may be seen.

 

Live upon the earth, yet not on it, and be fortified without fortifications, and possessing nothing, yet having the richness of all men.

 

And in actuality we people are made up of the same stuff that stars are made of, so it’s only our nature to shine. Right?

Gino Obuseng

from women, for all

People r selfish n don’t care and believe that the grass is always greener on the other side that something bigger and better is always around the corner and ready to present itself. We are not kind for the most part, we’re not strong we are certainly not wise.

So we throw away the people who are most valuable to us. We waste them. What good friends we have right here, all for the notion of greener grass.

 

Always is the key to every woman’s heartbreak. “He’ll always love me, always be there.” But no we get fat; we get old and get traded in for newer models everyday. Truth is the only always there is and that never changes in my opinion are men’s whims and they are the most changeable of all. I don’t want to know that a guy is always going be there for me, coz then I’ll know he’s a fucking liar.

And then there are those gals who have sucked a million cocks but slept with 3 guys so they think they are holier than thou.

You want a real relationship, fine, be honest and if the person who you are in a relationship with doesn’t like it, then fuck him. And stop with that fake ass nice gal bullshit you try to sell guys on.

See things the way they are and not for what you want them to be.

 

Relationships, they all end and they almost always end badly.

Best case scenario in a relationship is that 1 of you dies. And that’s the best it ever gets.

And then there’s getting dumped, you get left behind feeling worthless, ugly, self conscious, useless and just out of control. I used to think that getting dumped was better than dumping someone else, and its worse! you have to deal with the fact that is was yr idea yr action, so u r constantly 2^nd guessing yourself; am I going to be alone for ever? Was he the best I was going to get? And that comes before you have to turn that person into someone you can hate so you can try and find a way to live with that decision. I’d rather get dumped than dump someone else.

Women can spend 6 months in a relationship trying to figure out how or why they are leaving it, men move and they do it fast. And spend years trying to get over it. Coz they usually don’t think about it.

 

We need to stop putting these niggas on a fucking pedestal they keep shitting on u from up there. I may bullshit men but I never bullshit myself.

 

Culturally as women we are conditioned to lie. You know how a man sleeps with 100 gals he’s a player/pimp and a woman sleeps with like 10 guys she’s a whore. How the hell does a woman not feel like she has to lie when she’s dealing with the pressure of that ridiculous double standard?

 

Is it justification? Or dealing with men’s infantile insecurities?

Is it better to tell a child about Santa clause if it makes him feel better about Christmas?

Is it better to lie about sleeping with the entire team of Zebras if it makes him feel better about marrying you?

 

11^th Man Theory: a lady sits at a bar with 10 men surrounding her, buying her drinks, lighting her cigarettes and paying her compliments. PAYING ATTENTION! Then the 11^th Man walks in says ‘hi, how are you doing?’ and turns to talk to his friends. In this theory, that is who the woman wants.

 

Women are more subtle, they circle always placing themselves in his physical proximity, closer and closer until he is forced to make him his move. Leaving him to think that he is the aggressor.

Women have to make everything seem like it was the guys’ idea.

 

I have feelings and that’s what I wrestle with. Everybody is so busy doing their dance in the in zone, they can’t read the score board and realize that they are down by nine points. And if it means so much to you, if closeness is what you want, don’t settle, grab her/him: so come here baby, let me teach, check this out… M.O.N.O.G.A.M.Y!

 

Walk behind me when I go up the stairs and in front me when I go down. Open my door not because I can’t but it’s your pleasure.

 

When is it better to love a man; when he’s in success, buys, brings and fly’s high?

When he’s down on his knees, has nothing and the world has whipped him so.

When you measure him, measure him right, but when you do don’t take in to account the hills and valleys he’s come through.

 

What happened to romance and intimacy? When did we become so desensitized?

 

Its not about the sex, anybody can have sex. It’s about the walk up the stairs.

You see it as I got to stay I look at it as I get to stay.

 

To die for a man is easy; it’s the living for him that’s hard

 

There’s a wolf inside of him scratching to get out, and he comes and play…just to rub up against it. Coz no woman can do or give that to you. Commitment is something that comes from within.

 

If he doesn’t know what kind of woman u are after so long then he doesn’t know you. Was I not a good woman? Cook, clean ass naked in heels, suck and fuck like a champ?

He’s nice, he’s sweet. What’s the use of comforting myself when I’m breaking my own heart? But God sometimes slams us against the wall to avoid a train wreck!

You only live once and if you make the most of it then once is only enough.

 

How come you don’t remember or have forgotten than the king is supposed to be with the queen. Not the court jester!?

 

“I love you”, either you say it too much or don’t mean it. But love is a one way street, coz it makes you feel good to give it. It’s like giving a Christmas gift, it makes you feel good and if you get one back, it’s a bonus. That scary feeling people usually tend to confuse with love is not it.

What so different about a man when they can say ‘I love you’?

What’s so different about me when I can say it?

‘I don’t need you here with me for me to keep loving you.’

 

Yes I am crazy, like it or not, a lot of people we all know are crazy. It’s the ones that don’t think they are crazy that we need to worry about.

Sued, screwed and tattooed and i’m still here.

Gino Obuseng

awake

I called for you,

Staring at me from across a packed, smoky room

Handed me my options.

I dance with it.

 

Setting aside all nervous jokes and cross cultural discomforts.

I must always remember what I replied that afternoon.

Hand in hands, grasping this bag of marbles.

A gift you have equipped me with for all eternity.

 

So, now I reach into and blindly grab on to just one, and roll with it…

 

I thank you a thousand times, just to warm up for the rest of the countless times I will feel indebted to you.

I meant it… you saved my life!

 

 

“She’s the dreamer standing at the corner right next to you

Dreams you can see

The past that carries you when the present is too scary to touch

She carries possibilities hard and heavy as the ball and chain that scrape her feet from the streets to the bedroom, kitchen to garden.

Limitless everything is not too much.”

 

Gino Obuseng

creative

Gino is the descendant of kings and when I write my ancestors get hype in their graves.

Let me sign my name in heavens to declare my creative independence.

My truth creates a stink in this perfect rosy world that we have been forced to believe in which we live.

 

I have found ways, words, mine, others borrowed and dreamt up.

Earth shocking, brain blocking, cock blocking. I have not enough ink in my pen.

I am grateful for my gift of words I have robbed from the world.

I am a giant, surrounded by ants who don’t know what I am talking about.

 

The world’s liberated women are not liberated at all.

We talk about it too much; we all have the same speech.

(Ladies show your faces coz I’ve already ripped off my mask!)

A woman’s hands are not to serve man. And make best.

They are to look graceful, be helpful, turn the world and carry the future.

(Pussy Niggas lift weights, I’m a woman I lift tons!)

 

Devotion, Sentimental, Conscious inquiry. These words.

Appreciation of this sweet pleasure has been the anchor of my humanity.

Conformed.

 

Gino Obuseng