Verbal Water

Cafe Calaloo Session – 6/18/11

MadPoetic — Sun, 26 Jun 2011 16:56:41 +0000

Cafe Calaloo Session – 6/18/11.
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Groove Therapy Vol. 3

MadPoetic — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 11:45:27 +0000

Groove Therapy Vol. 3.
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MadPoetic — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 01:03:02 +0000

Hi everyone,

Check out my latest mix…”Organix Vol. 5″: http://verbalwatermusic.podOmatic.com

See you there!

- – Stephen

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Groove Therapy Vol. 1…

MadPoetic — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 01:20:09 +0000

DJ Stephen Cosey – Groove Therapy Vol.1
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MadPoetic — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 01:12:15 +0000

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Contemplation

MadPoetic — Sat, 12 Jun 2010 21:01:05 +0000

In deep thought
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Nu Soul Tuesday

MadPoetic — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 11:54:48 +0000

Nikko Gray

Flying Lotus

King Britt

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Children & Athletics…

MadPoetic — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 11:13:19 +0000

Athletics has always been an important part of my life. Even though I was a late bloomer (didn’t start playing organized sports until the 5th grade) I always found myself constantly emerged in some sort of athletic endeavor every season of the year. My first athletic event was chasing away the gentleman callers who tried to date my mother and then later I focused on the “Cooley High” inspired cats who tried to do the same with my sister….it was tiring to say the least. In 5th grade my mom signed us up for the Rosemoor Little League up at Gately Park on 103rd & Cottage Grove. I was ecstatic my brother, not so much. He was a cerebral cat much like my son Dougie is now. I wanted to play football but between my Daddy no longer being a part of the household and my mother’s fear of me getting hurt that would have to be a total dream deferred. Besides baseball I participated on the basketball (I played the center position…can you believe that) & softball teams in grammar school and I also took up my mother’s passion every single Saturday morning…bowling. When I got to high school I participated on the soccer, wresting, cross country, track & field, basketball & baseball teams….I was a jack of all trades and a master of none but I loved competing nonetheless. I even earned a very, very partial scholarship to Wheaton College for wrestling. Had I gone there instead of my beloved Fisk University, I would’ve had to wait tables, do a little stripping on the side, wash cars, drive Mr. Daisy, cut grass, bag groceries and work the midnight shift at UPS just to make ends meet.
The birth my son was a blessed phenomenon that transformed me tremendously. There was someone on this planet that was looking for me to guide them…me!…of all people. I was terrified, elated, joyous, and that was just day one. He would be my morning sunrise and my evening glow…he would be so much more than me and I will move mountains, part seas, dig trenches,…whatever it takes for him to find a place in this world. I had dreams of Douglas Stephen Cosey accepting the Heisman or maybe winning a World Series MVP or hitting the game winning shot in the Final Four but I soon discovered that Dougie possessed something that his father never had at his age…a sense of purpose and a thirst to discover the world on his own terms. When he was 3 I signed him up for soccer which kept his attention for about 4 seasons. That was also his first season of T-Ball eventually moving on to baseball (which I also coached). At 4 I signed him up for basketball and swimming. This year I enrolled him Karate…and I was just recently looking for a lacrosse camp to enroll him in. In every athletic activity he’s done Dougie has shown flashes but for the most part he’s been indifferent. When he wants to play he will and when he doesn’t he’s standing in left field trying to swat the butterflies as fly balls zoom over his head. As we were gearing up for this upcoming baseball season Dougie looked at me and asked me if I would be upset if he didn’t want to play baseball this year. “I just want you to be proud of me” he said, and after I pretend to have “something in my eye” I told him that “I fell in love with you when I saw your little feet pressing against your Mommy’s tummy, my “proud tank” is so full and there is nothing you could do to diminish that”. So, to say the least Wrightwood Baseball is going to short one wonderful, charismatic 9 year old player and one grumpy coach this year.
I felt so guilty thinking that all this time I had pushed Dougie to participate in activities that he didn’t even like just to fulfill my dreams and not taking in account want he wanted. Somehow he would take up the mantle where I had left off and achieve something that I was to afraid to obtain. The real answer is he will but on his own terms and in the things he enjoys which is how it should be.
Is I reflect I remember the face of all those Dads (and Mom’s….whew, they were the worse) jumping up and down yelling instructions at there shaking child going up to bat and feeling sorry for the kid. There was one parent in particular whose son played on Dougie’s basketball team who would wear a suit to the games and would video tape the action to go over with his child later. What?!?! This dude was on a mission to make his son the next “Jesus Shuttlesworth”. My question is (after this long ass entry…sorry) do we as parent’s place too much value in athletics for are children? When does “encouragement” become “discouragement”? Dougie told me and his mom the other day that when he grows up he wants to be a Paleontologist. So after I looked it up to find out what the hell it was I then focused my attention on finding another activity for him to do…this time it’s something HE likes. And if he likes it I love it…

Peace & Blessings
Stephen Cosey…ex little league coach…lol

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MadPoetic — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 02:56:29 +0000

Hi everyone, I posted a new episode to my podcast, Verbal Water Music.

Please click the link below to view it.

http://verbalwatermusic.podOmatic.com/entry/2010-02-24T18_38_55-08_00

See you there!

- Stephen

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Feelin’ soulful…

MadPoetic — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 02:51:27 +0000

Kim Hill

Joy Jones

Teedra Moses

Mishoo The Drumkit

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MadPoetic — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 23:52:55 +0000

New Year Mix

Verbal Water Music

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Nu Soul Grooves…

MadPoetic — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 14:51:21 +0000

The Noisettes

Anjulie

Anthony Valadez

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The “Verb” is back…

MadPoetic — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 14:34:24 +0000

I received a bunch of email during my hiatus and the biggest complaint I hear from women wading through the dating pool is that the men they encounter nowadays are “full of themselves” or believe that “they are the prize”. Personally, I believe that the men haven’t changed just the game… Men have always had to be confident because we took all the risk. We approached the ladies, spark the convo and pushed the relationship forward long after we leave the bar. We had to have thick skin because trust…we caught more rejection then a little bit and a man that lacked confidence would be crushed under the avalanche of no’s. This was something that women never had to deal with or understand but today the game has transformed. There are so many women over 35 competing with the 20 something’s for the same pool of men….Ladies can no longer stroll into the spot, perch themselves at the bar and wait for the next cat with a Benz, a black card and a PHD to seek them out. Because by the time dude makes his way to you all the way at the end of the bar he’s been accosted several times by willing prospects. I do agree that men have trouble finding the line between confidence and arrogance and that could throw some shade in the game and I’ll give women that but trust…when I was playing the game I did think of myself as a prize and I don’t see anything criminal in that. Why should someone be punished for feeling that they are worthy of someone special?

What I find most troubling is that cat’s who couldn’t get any “cakes” if they baked it themselves are now the stars of the party. They got a celly full of numbers and fine, educated and well employed ladies sweatin’ em’. I ran into a cat the other day…dude ain’t had a job since we both worked as Andy Frain ushers at the Chicago Stadium in high school. I was heading to the Thompson Center to have lunch with my wife and this dude was standing outside my building cussing somebody out on his phone. We dapped and exchanged pleasantries and then he asked me if I know anyone that wanted to by some weed. I was taken aback but I wasn’t surprised…dude was still a loser. He informed me that his girl worked in my building and he was waiting on her to break him off some duckets…In my mind I’m thinking what boot-mouth heathen would waste her time with this clown. When she finally made her way down I was flabbergasted….she was definitely not what I expected….we worked for the same company and she was one of the VP’s in HR. She peeled off a couple of hundreds and then dude was off. I wanted to say sista it can’t be that bad….it just can’t. When I see sh*t like that it just makes me hug my wife tighter and thank her for putting up with a square like me.

I know I’ve been out the game for some time but some things remain the same…men will play the odds until they get tired of juggling different broads and desire something more profound….period. It’s shitty but its reality. It’s a difficult task trying to find someone that will accept your flaws and commit to a life long adventure with you…but let’s face it…it’s supposed to be.

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MadPoetic — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 03:38:13 +0000

Organic Soul – Chicago House Edition

Verbal Water Music

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Monday Soul

MadPoetic — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 11:50:05 +0000

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Organix Vol. 4 Beats, Ryhmes & Soul Edition

MadPoetic — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 11:23:02 +0000

Check out the latest installment of my Organix Mixtape Series.
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Michael Jackson left us a long time ago…

MadPoetic — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 11:29:00 +0000

Michael Jackson died a long time ago….and I was mourning him long before his physical presence was no more. I remember as a youngin’ my Mom taking me and my brother to see the Jackson 5 in the “Chi”. The venue escapes me but I remember they performed on a rotating stage…I was taken aback. This little dude had grown ass women swooning and men mesmerized. I saw Mike and his brothers again when their Victory Tour made a stop at Comiskey Park in October ‘84…we had seats on the field and the show did not disappoint. Black folk from Chicago and Gary embraced the Jackson Family because we all shared the same roots…worked in the same factories…dodged the same bullets…survived the same times. The Jackson’s belonged to US and WE shared them and Mike with the world…and that was the beginning of the end.

Mike became the “King of Pop” and in doing so shook off most of the folk that lifted him. The true soul in the music was gone which allowed other folk who didn’t look like him or share his scars gravitate to him. The Thriller LP was monstrous, soulful and seductive but after that Mike lost me…..and eventually himself. My favorite Mike album was Off The Wall…househeads in Chicago had been losing their minds in the clubs to “Get On The Floor” and “It’s The Falling In Love” (a duet with the incomparable Patti Austin) for years and it’s still a club banger to this day. The album also contained the hot joints “Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough” and “Rock With You”. When the Jackson’s signed with CBS Records in ’76 and worked with Gamble & Huff, creators of the “Philly soul sound” the marriage was magical. The union gave us soulful joints such as “Enjoy Yourself “, “The Good Times” (a Chi-Town Steppers classic), “Show You The Way To Go” and “Heaven Knows I Love You, Girl”. My all time favorite is “Forever Came Today” which was released in 1975….check your itunes and get it today…it wasn’t a Gamble & Huff collabo but it is the sh*t!

After Thriller came the plastic surgery, the infamous “skin disorder”, the monkey’s and giraffes and such, the child molestation charges and the less than stellar music…in my opinion. I still loved Mike and always hoped that he would right the ship…if any entertainer could do it he definitely could. When he changed his looks to not look like US I was hurt….we were the same nappy headed kids that mowed lawns and raked leaves to earn enough money to buy his records and he rearranged himself in an effort to not be mistaken for one of US. But I gave him a pass because I can only imagine that growing up the way he did and being in the limelight and having everybody tear away pieces of him deeply wounded him beyond repair. The last time I saw Mike in concert was April ’88 at the Rosemont Horizon. I took my girlfriend at the time Selika to the show and she undeniably lost her mind….man, I couldn’t even enjoy the show because I thought her little ass was going to fall over the railing….I was embarrassed but I understood. Mike was powerful, misguided, ingenious, troubled, masterful but most of all he was ours….I never really knew the “light skinned Mike” but the Mike with the chocolate skin, significant nose and afro was simply and unequivocally the absolute truth.

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Soul Meditations

MadPoetic — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 00:01:21 +0000

Tracy Cruz

Choklate

The Foreign Exchange

Lalah Hathaway

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Power of the “cake”…

MadPoetic — Mon, 04 May 2009 01:03:58 +0000

I read an article about a women’s group in Nairobi trying to organize a “sex strike” in an effort to resolve political turmoil…whatever that means. I think it’s a bit silly but to each his own. In my travels I’ve heard of so many women resorting to this type of tactic to resolve internal relationship issues or to just get some “get back”. I knew a woman who withheld the “cakes” for 6 months just to get an Infiniti truck. She eventually got it…it was a used whip which to me was a testament of the type of “cakes” she had to offer….used booty. If some of you ladies are contemplating trying to straighten your dude out by greatly limiting access to the “nappy (or shaven… whatever floats your boat) dugout” here are a few pointers:

1. First and foremost you have to be GOOD at the sexual circus or at least somewhat decent. If your performance is lackluster or half-ass you are already dead in the water. Hell, your man might even go a head and buy, do or apologize for whatever he did or didn’t do out of appreciation.
2.“Cakes” have to be handed out with some consistency. If you’re one those every 6 months broads….then…I mean really. What type of leverage do you think you’re working with?
3. You need to decide if whatever he did or didn’t do was that bad that you’re willing to risk the stability of your relationship. I mean…sh*t can go down hill real fast when folk start playing games.
In the end what have you really accomplished? That you’re not mature enough to communicate with you’re man in a civilized manner so you have to resort to “hood rat” games? You may get what you want but after it’s all said and done you have definitely lost the battle…square biz.

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From the archives…

MadPoetic — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 02:06:17 +0000

I was rummaging through some things and came across this poem I wrote damn near 10 years ago. Just thought I would share with y’all…enjoy.

desert soul swayin’ in the wind
soil colored eyes swallow antiquity
as open wounds bleed caramel water

tryin’ to feed my courage with black sunday’s and stray bullets
cultivatin’ tribal seeds in ghettoes and solemn spaces
as incandescent summers melt into the eleventh hour of autumn
to give birth to the dirty weather of winter.
balancing uprises of bedlam and contentment.
burying dead idols so that truth can ascend.
as righteous winds flow through every pore

men shall bow their heads and the gods will soar.

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