Guts Per Second: Genuine Goodness & Grace

"if you get down and you quarrel everyday, you're saying prayers to the devil I say." - Bob Marley

to be good, one must live against unnecessary outer influence- and that too, is to be real. realness and goodness are measured in nothing but guts per second. grace, of course, is the constant. 
but who am i to judge my goodness against yours, my brother?
when did i forget my place beneath grace, my brother? my goodness, why do i live my life: sleep as I do at night- dream my own dreams, doing my own things- waking up only, to God's own day, gifted to me as i pray. immediately after, turning in rebuke of the neighbors' breath, as try only they do, for a momentous morning prayer?- this living, rightfully theirs, in every way and on God's own day. when shall i eventually, awaken to the sharp stench of my own breath beneath even my silence? at what staaage did i rise above grace, finding each day, the face of the almighty on the inside of my own mirrors? as i live with my deeds as my prayer beads, why do I stomp my feet and mark a grave for my brand new neighbors and oldest pals?
i rather start out now, living to find peace in reaching my own grave, not even in reaching my mother's. i hope that celebration becomes both the purpose and movement as one day, i am laid to ashes and dust and thin cloth like the others.. i owe my clan of awe-inspiring folk-even unborn and yet to be known-such a celebration of a life led in spread of emancipation and dedicated to frustrating oppression...let my life be the start of a folk song, but let it not be a perfect one- a gratitude song will find the right chords. let it be said how imperfect my ways were, but how perfect grace was. this is a love note to life and an ode to the ones who have passed on. i wish they would never have had to cry those tears, the way i have witnessed some do: their nostrils in search of one more breath. in that moment the body seems stingy with breathing and so generous with tears. quick flowing tears mirroring past years; tears for tears. and now a letter to my clan- let's pray for one another, to never experience the pain of such a hang over from mirror-ing tears of past sadness, desire or regret. amazing grace, has me on a request line tonight, for my brother and my clan, my neighbors from earth to mars.. i pray that we pray more gratitude prayers for that grace that keeps your guts in check and our breath at a stretch.
Bless your folk, bless my folk, and in one breath, SALAM.

"if there is one thing i know, i know i will die. if anyone cares, some stranger may critique my life" - Tracy Chapman