Marques Haven – MarquesHaven.com

Jul 05 2025

Damn, Gurl

in Journal Entry, Shit, Shit & More Shit!, Words, words and more words...

Damn, Gurl…I ain’t gon’ lie, you wicked beautiful, like trouble dressed in poetry. Scandalous smile, walk like you already know the ending, got a brother wonderin’ if he can rewrite it. But that attitude though? Like, for real? Why you always movin’ like you one bad memory from swingin’? Why you gotta come at love like it owe you somethin’? I ain’t him. I ain’t them. Yeah, yeah… I know. Their blood ain’t my blood, but they hold me down, claim me like I been here, like I’m family without the papers.So I claim 'em right back. Tio, big homie, uncle figure, yeah, I be that dude. But damn, Gurl… why you gotta be so rough with it? Like — I show up soft, and you throw hands made of heartbreak. I bring you peace, you bring me pieces. Remember that night? Had your back arched like a forgotten horizon. I leaned in close and whispered, “Baby, beauty only gon’ get you so far.” That hit different, didn’t it? Felt like prophecy. How was that trip tho? You back now? You good? Or you still runnin’ from mirrors? ‘Cause at times, I still see us, caught in them stolen moments, whispers thick with lust and pain, makin’ love in tongues you never learned, breathin’ through wounds we never named. (F)ornicatin’ (U)nder (C)onsent of the (K)ing, yeah, I said it. We was royal in dem sheets, had your crown crooked, but that throne stayed warm. But damn, Gurl… why you gotta be so rough with it? You ain’t gotta flinch every time I reach. Ain’t no trap in these arms. Just a place. Home. Soft. Safe. You wanted it. You had it. Don’t no more tho? Say less. Just don’t ghost me in my own memory. Don’t etch your name in my ribs and bounce. Don’t worry, your name sits among the rest. By the way, I loved you honest, even when you couldn’t. But damn… Gurl… Why you gotta be so rough with it? MH ~ "Had your back arched like a forgotten horizon" MH ~ ...

Jul 03 2025

The Detritus of a Man I Barely Knew

by Marques Haven

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in Journal Entry, Life, Shit, Shit & More Shit!, Words, words and more words...

I saw my father this morning.Mind you, he’s been dead for a minute now — but fuck me, there he was.That once imposing vestige folding itself back onto me. Sadly, I was staring at my own reflection in the bathroom mirror. What I saw unsettled me — fear, disgust, and something else I couldn’t name.Hate, maybe? Perhaps something worse. The remnants of a man I barely knew.At least, that’s what I’ve come to realize. My father had this way of being in a room and somewhere else entirely.Yeah, he was that dude, never fully with you, but always making sure you knew he was there. I’ve tried to come to grips with the parts of me that are undeniably him —the anger, the vengefulness, the bitterness…and that all-time great, lust. Yeah, that last one’s a muthafucker.But thankfully, it’s the one trait I’ve managed to keep at bay. Well, that’s not entirely true. Some days, a brother just has to… you know, be who he be.I’m not saying it’s right.But it’s real. I had a lover once who wanted me to chase away any thoughts of my father —as if wishing him away could somehow wipe him out of existence. Neat trick, if it were possible. Lord knows I’ve tried. The problem with that lover — who, by the way, I still love,though the recompense would cost more than I have left to give. That lover never understood my need to unravel the riddle of my fatheris really an insatiable need to understand myself. Mostly, the absence of things I desire.And the overabundance of things I long to shed. My father died alone. In his final days, the regret of past deeds, broken relationships, and unfulfilled promiseswithered on a vine that was once full of blooming potential. In the end, his life closed in a dirty motel room — a room full of questions,with the answers scattered among the detritus of a life spent running from love. Truth be told, I worry I might face the same fate. Not because I’ve run from love,but because I fear I no longer have the stamina to seek it out. Story for another day, maybe. Anyway, lately I’ve noticed my tendency to isolate.Not sure if it’s something innate, something I inherited from him,or if it’s something else entirely.Fear, maybe. I guess next time I see him staring back at me in the mirror,I’ll ask. Now there’s a thought. MH ~ P.S. – You may have noticed I never refer to my father as “dad.” That’s intentional.” I’ve come to believe that the title father refers to the duty of a man to guide his offspring, in my case, his son, in the ways of being a man.In that respect, my father served me well, though many of those lessons gave root to lasting trauma. Hey, I’m dealing with it. Nonetheless, I have to concede, he was a father. But “dad”?No. He wasn’t the dad who showed up to track meets,who made it a point to be purposeful with his time,who carved space in his day just for his son (me).? Yeah, no, he wasn’t that dad. The first time I ever...

Jun 29 2025

Sunrise in C Minor

by Marques Haven

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in Journal Entry, Life, Shit, Shit & More Shit!

I remember waking to the warmth of your breath,Tracing the contours of my chest.The light tracing the melody’s curve —Giving us asunrise in C Minor. Coltrane’s “Naima” showing me the way,Willing me to a place,where your moans speak to me in rhythms and gasps,in minor chords.A gentle touch, laced with intent.Sunrise in C Minor. I think we’re making the orchids blush,That purple one just giggled – wait.God, please do that again. Yes, that.Sunrise in C Minor. I fear the words will leap from my lips.My vulnerability speaks to my inability to breathe free.Sunrise in C Minor. MH ~ ...

Jun 28 2025

We Never Made It to Morning

by Marques Haven

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in Journal Entry, Life, Shit, Shit & More Shit!, Uncategorized

I should listen to that voice.The one echoing back from someplace I almost remember.It reverberates low and without restraint -folded into this moment,so close it feels like a memory I forgot to hold onto.Or maybe it’s a dream I woke from too soon. Was it home?Not a place, but her.The way her smile opened wide and unrestrained —like sunlight willing to beg for forgivenessrather than ask for permission that might never come.I saw it once (that smile), maybe a thousand times —but its image lingers within a moment just beyond my reach.Is that my memory fading,or me, drifting with the years?Why can’t I hold it still?Fuck, was that home? God. I need to breathe.Breathe, brother. Breathe. There’s something I left behind —just beyond the horizon,out where the light bends and my memory breaks.I can almost see it, taste it, the moisture from her lips.Fuck. Why can’t I breathe? MH ~ "I feel like once you know someone is there for you, and once you know they love you, you never actually think of them again ~" Marie from the movie "Malcom & Marie" 2021 ...

Jun 24 2025

God, Meaning, and the Silence in Between~

by Marques Haven

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in Journal Entry, Life

I think I am at a point in my life where I am going to stop looking for God’s meaning in everything. Don’t get me wrong, my faith in God is absolute. I can recognize that everything I have (and don’t) and all that I am (and am not) is because of His grace and mercy. But searching for “divine meaning” in the daily ebb and flow of life has become — fuck, I don’t know, exhausting. Trying to find meaning means I am trying to understand “why” and sometimes the “why” is just a step beyond my fucking ability to understand. Ya dig? Of course you do. Maybe the absence of understanding doesn’t mean God isn’t speaking or has decided to break camp. Perhaps, He has been speaking all along, and the issue isn’t His presence, it’s my endless need to break down every moment into something I can make sense of. Something bite-sized. Something easier to swallow. But maybe I don’t need to understand the overarching story, even though I’m one of its authors. (Side note: I guess that makes God the Chief Editor...

Aug 13 2024

The Argument – Part IV “Mya’s Secret”

by Marques Haven

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in The Argument

Mya and Clarke had been inseparable since their freshman year at Georgetown, so moving in together as roommates was a no-brainer. They rented a cozy two-bedroom townhouse near Rock Creek Park, complete with a chill patio that perfectly suited Mya’s occasional indulgence in a blunt—always indica, since sativa wasn’t her vibe. The patio, with a Japanese Maple at its center and six-foot hedges enclosing the space, quickly became Mya’s sanctuary—a place to light up and let the day’s stress melt away. She had a deep appreciation for her weed, okay obsession, whatever, the girl likes weed. In the first month of living together, they hit up the annual “Real HU” football game—a legendary showdown between Hampton University and Howard University. For any Black college student in DC, this game was like a rite of passage. In case you’re wondering, Howard came out on top, 24-13, but the game was just the prelude to a night they wouldn’t forget. After the game, Mya and Clarke rolled up to Celebrity Hall on Georgia Avenue, a Go-Go club known as the “Black Hole.” And let’s be clear—Go-Go isn’t about dancers; it’s the heartbeat of DC funk, a sound that’s been moving souls since the '70s. The vibe at the Black Hole was typical: thumping beats, a crowd so tight you could barely move. With the Howard players in the house, riding the high of their win, the whole scene felt almost surreal, like an out-of-body experience. Gideon, with Preach in tow, was weaving through the club when he spotted Clarke. In that moment, he forgot how to move—how to breathe. There she was, on the dance floor, moving to Rare Essence like she owned the place, commanding the energy around her, with Gideon helplessly at its center. It wasn’t just how she moved; it was the confidence radiating from every sway, every turn of her body. She had the attention of every brother in the club—and more than a few sistas. But Clarke could give two fucks. She was in a world of her own, and Gideon wanted in. Sure, Mya was turning heads too, but Clarke’s vibe was next level. In the soulful, rhythmic heat of the Black Hole, Gideon and Clarke would meet and ignite a spark that would burn for years. And that fire would only blaze hotter when "The Argument" eventually unfolded. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Fast forward a year, and Clarke and Gideon were deep into their relationship. From the beginning, it was effortless—she was always craving him, and he could hardly breathe without her. They found purpose and belonging in each other, and to them, that was everything. Clarke and Mya had a deal: whenever Clarke wanted a special night with Gideon, Mya would give them space and head out. But one night, while Mya was out, she had an experience that would stick with her, something that would ultimately fuel “The Argument” years later. That evening, Gideon showed up at the townhouse with a bottle of wine and some takeout from...

Jul 22 2024

The Ouroboros Effect

by Marques Haven

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in Journal Entry, Shit, Shit & More Shit!

The last couple of weeks, I’ve been feeling like a man without a country, or in simpler terms, without a home. Not that I don’t have a home—I do—but lately, it hasn’t felt like one. So, I’ve been staying in hotels, and for the past few days, I’ve been watching my buddy’s dogs while he’s away on a Disney World trip with his girlfriend and kids. Let’s talk about these dogs for a second. There are three of them: one is supposed to be a miniature Doberman Pinscher named Izzy, but she actually looks like a fat fucking potbelly pig. She’s cool though, no issues. The other two, however—Bella and Gizmo, both French Bulldogs—are like little fucking terrorists. The have a penchant for getting all up in my grill and barking without any provocation. They also take full advantage of my habit of sleeping on the couch rather than a bed, which might be because beds feel lonely to me, even when I’m not alone. But that’s a topic for another day. ...

Jul 21 2024

The Argument – Part III “Mya & Brit”

by Marques Haven

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in The Argument

Now, Mya and Brit are a story all to themselves. A lesbian couple navigating the world of everyday life as if they alone exist within it. Neither deeply political nor champions of any particular issue that swirls about the LGBT community, they choose to move through life as one, assimilating the world into one shared experience – as a couple in love. Let’s start with Brit, real name Candice. With soft blue eyes and reddish-brown hair that seems to sport the duality of looking both unkempt yet stylish, Brit knew from an early age that she would always be drawn to women. As a young girl, she would find herself developing deep crushes on friends (girls) or daydreaming of spending her life with someone of the same sex. In fact, if asked, she would tell you that she couldn’t recall a moment in her life when she felt attracted to a man. Loving women, being attracted to them, wasn’t a choice for her, no more than being born female was. Originally from Bracknell, England, she is the byproduct of parents who fell in love during their days of working as diplomats. Her father, an American, worked most of his life as a foreign affairs officer for the U.S. State Department, and her mother, a Briton, spent her early days as a political savant in service of Her Majesty. Their union brought forth Candice, who became known as “Brit”, because of her accent, during her high school years at Sidwell Friends – a school for the children of the ultra-privileged and political elite. Even though Brit grew up in a world where kids whipped Bimmers around affluent neighborhoods and attended parties with security details in tow, she always remained grounded in the simpler things that life conjured up – like the joy of her mom’s cooking, the tranquility of evenings spent reading comic books with her dad, or the warmth of genuine friendship. Enter Mya. Mya, who proudly refers to herself as an Afro-Latina. Her father, Black, and her mother, both Black and Puerto Rican, Mya grew up in the upper middle-class neighborhood of Chevy Chase, Maryland. With both her parents being lawyers, it was no surprise that she would also find herself making a living as a top lawyer for one of the most prestigious law firms in Washington DC – Whittaker & Zinn. Tall, with even brown skin and hair that had the ability to be styled in a curly afro one day or braided in tight cornrows the next. To Mya, her hair was everything, an outward representation of the internal and deeply personal view she has of herself. A view that, at times, could be in direct opposition to her actions. Heads up, this fun fact comes into play during “The Argument,” so you might want to take notes. Just saying. Back to Mya… Unlike Brit, being a lesbian for Mya was a choice. Having been in relationships with both men and women, Mya found her connections with women to be more...

Jul 19 2024

The Argument – Part II “Preach & Tabitha”

by Marques Haven

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in The Argument

It was Preach who started the weekly meet-up for the group, a way to further bind the threads that connected them as friends. Ah, the friends, let’s lay out the characters, shall we? First up, Preach and his partner in crime, also known to the world as Tabitha. At five foot eight, Tabitha’s stature constantly contradicted her personality—loud at times, very opinionated at others, and always ready to engage in debate, irrespective of whether she held a particular view on the subject at hand. Dark-skinned, giving praise to her Jamaican roots, Tabitha, originally from Chicago’s Southside, is a force born of an upbringing fraught with hardship and deep-set trauma. More on that later, because it comes into play. And then there’s Preach, whose given name is Phineas. Due to his penchant for giving sermon-like pep talks to his teammates during his college football days at Howard University, he became known to everyone as 'Preach.' A product of biracial parents, black father, white mother, Preach grew up on the other side of the nation's capital, in Anacostia, Washington, DC. It was there he first met Gideon. Back then, their relationship was defined by moments, moments of playing Pop Warner football together; moments of running (and surviving) the streets of southeast DC. And, the moment of them graduating high school (together) despite the neighborhood’s temptation of a future that was seldom, if ever, realized. Each of these moments crystalized into a friendship-a bond. Needless to say, they were inseparable. Perhaps because they were both the only children of their parents. Or maybe they found in each other the one thing they both needed—brotherhood. In any event, they both eventually graduated high school with full scholarships and moved on to play football at Howard, both as wide receivers. If someone had to define the bond between Phineas, 'Preach,' and Gideon in one word, it would simply be 'fraternitas'. If someone had to define the bond between Phineas, 'Preach,' and Gideon in one word, it would simply be 'fraternitas.' Of course, that someone would have to be Latin or speak it, since its English counterpart is 'brotherhood.' But I’m tripping over details that will surely come out as the story goes on. So, on to the next couple in their little group of merry friends—Mya and Brit. "Check back for Part III of The Argument - "Mya & Brit"… ...

Jul 13 2024

Dear Daughter

by Marques Haven

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in Words, words and more words...

Dear Daughter, You are about to embark on an experience that will in no small way define who you will become as a woman, as well as a citizen of this world. Embrace that with every fiber of your being. But know, this world will challenge you in ways that may cause you to doubt who you are as well as your views. In those moments, hold fast to who you know yourself to be. Reflect on your experiences growing up, both good and bad. Remember my many attempts to challenge your views and opinions. Invoke at will, the memories of me telling you stories of my childhood and how those experiences still guide me to this very day. Always be open to new things. Willingly and with open eyes, devour new ideas, new experiences and all the newness that this world has to offer. It’s okay to be scared, nervous, and/or skeptical of the unknown. However, it is not okay to let those feelings paralyze you into inaction. You are my daughter, and we don’t freak-out, no matter what because "we" know there is always a way out and a way forward. Always and without exception be kind and respectful. As a citizen of this world you must remember there are those you will meet whose backgrounds will differ greatly from yours. That’s okay. In those differences you will find beauty and the threads that connect us as a people. However, never be afraid to stand your ground and always speak loudly so that your voice can be heard. Live within your words because through your words as well as your actions, this world will come to know your name. So make sure your words are clear and your actions deliberate. You are my greatest contribution to this world, and to that affect, I submit to God and to the people of this world, all that you are, and all that you will ever be. Know that I am incredibly proud of you. I’m still having a hard time grasping the fact the my little LuLa is now a freshman in college. I love you above all things under God, for he has blessed me with you and for that I shall forever be humbled and moved beyond measure. And lastly...

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Author: Marques Haven