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I call her my black ballerina because she keeps me on my toes...graceful as misty copeland's
complexion she gives my soul lessons each stare so detailed even to the grocery list suggestions. I call her my black ballerina because when she walk she floats...similar to spike lee cinema it appears the winds agree with her. Choreographed gravity candidly tip toeing happily seizing the moment (i want to be here forever....) pianos of janis joplin tickles the acoustics of my heart with each pump i can hear the reverb let’s follow the echo together. It seems a metaphysical secret i contain this love in my spirit because my flesh is not capable of keeping it. Shots of 1738 multiplies my vision all i can do is blow a kiss lets move in harmony like a school of fish. I call her my black ballerina because she's precise pinpointing my shortcoming when she feels her intuition just not feeling right. I love her correction how heart does inspections love is a lesson I love her reflection.....we have synchronized souls. Let the angels become spectators i can see her halo in a dark world she glows. I call her my black ballerina because she ---keeps---me---on--my--toes. POETIC
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Buried footprints in the sand left without a trace -- destined -2- face this cold place after my Ancestors’ fates were given direct destinations -2- be taken 9,000 miles over seas, auctioned off, and put upon a plantation:
Agonizing cries, cause of separation between mother and child -- heads hanging down in the presence of Master’s eyes caused confusion -- Whipped backs caused delusional individuals to be set apart from the “good stock” while alcobulion rituals were secretly practiced out back; by the slave quarters -- Son’s and daughters danced ‘till the sun came up with just enough strength to muster with swollen hands that were demanded to pick cotton: Funny, yet sad, how those beautiful, strong people were so easily forgotten -- the change, of course, throughout time is a constant reminder written on calendars, like: Columbus, President’s, Valentine’s, even Martin Luther King, along with many more days, but not one that represents Original People titles slaves, and ‘till this day we unconsciously play with the word N.I.G.G.A. Uneducated and baby sitted by society’s unfit -2- be taught by public schools bull-shit: Constantly finding ways to eliminate any race not fond of duplicating -- While implicating laws to save face of disgraceful taste programmed into the minds of us -- Considered a waste of time: Someone once told me my story that bored me -- Uneducated was I of that story at a time in my prime when committing crimes -- Ignorant and blind was still I; “till I grew from beneath the concrete -- Not quite The Rose, but STILL I RISE; to any occasion worth or worth not educating hoping deaf ears -R- listening and allowing these WORDS OF WISDOM be programmed in UR Great Mindz… Pleasure comes in the course of its own time and it brings me great pleasure standing in front of my sistas and brothas and sharing some equality I once selfishly considered mine… And for the many lost souls-- Know that UR cries flow thru my veins creating transfusions to unconscious brains needed badly to be saved… Remembering your trials and tribulations, the beatings, rapes, and hangings, along with unaccountable hours of picking cotton-- PLEASE!! KNOW!! THAT YOU ALL ARE NOT FORGOTTEN… WHEN THE FIRE BURNS DOWN AND THE WATER TAKES OVER, I EXPECT TO SEE A RAINBOW LIKE GOD'S COVENANT WITH NOAH. ASHES TURNS TO SOOT, TREES WASHED UP FROM THE ROOTS, ALL OF MANKIND IS SCARED SO WE MAY ALL NEED A PUSH,I'M LOOKING FOR THE RAM IN THE BUSH. DRINK HOLY WATER AND ANOINT MY WHOLE BODY WITH MUSLIM OIL MAKE IT FRANKENSENSE OR MYRRH, EITHER WAY IM GETTING READY FOR THE END OF THE WORLD FOR SURE. ELIJAH ABRAHAM JESUS & JUDAS MARY MAGDALENE DELILAH CAESAR & BRUTUS IM THERE ALSO I CAN SEE THERE FACES AND IM READY LETS DO THIS!
When there's nothing new under the sun, I wonder how do things change?
I've been locked up 7 years and feel like I haven’t missed a thang. Black people are still oppressed and impoverished The males are still drug dealers and robbers The females are still raising bad ass kids without their fathers And the ones who indoctrinated us all are still not being held responsible... Ancient Egyptians were draped in gold too But the rappers back then were called philosophers and prophets. That's back when Royal blood running thru your veins meant something iconic. Money holds more weight than honor. Greed will make the most honorable man do what's dishonorable. Its alarming... No one sticks to the code anymore but that’s what they really meant by, global warming. Because the weather been up and down since the beginning of time. And there's been snakes in the grass since Eve met Adam and she bit that apple. And that was way before Cain killed Abel Ever since we were able to live we were enabled to die. Some faster than others, some harsher than others And we still never get answers to why. If time didn't have a number If days didn't have a name We would all understand that nothing ever changes, except our perspective of thangs... So here I am again, alone, on a typical December evening,
Waiting for her and the kids to come home. They left earlier today, but why, she wouldn’t say, Only that she would be back in time, To have dinner on the table by no later than a few minutes to nine. That was three hours ago, and still no sign of that…. But she’ll be back, she always comes back, It’s probably just the roads, the snow came down heavy, and probably hid the track, That leads through the woods to get down to our shack, it’s special you know, We got it together so we would always know where our love nest is at… So what if I lost my job, we have each other, I don’t care about her mom. Always in her ear about my anger and liquor, They are mine and she knew about it, we always work through it together, She knows I didn’t mean to hit her, it was just one too many shots of liquor, Cause vodka on the rocks tops any day off, I just wish she wouldn’t ruin it with all her nagging talk. About how she has sooooo much to deal with and that I do nothing to contribute… Does she know how hard it is to find a job anymore, it’s not like ones just going to walk through the door… Where is she, I need her to take away some of this anger, to cool off some of this rage, instead I’m being tortured, alone in this cage. No one here but me, forcing me to take a good look at the walls around me, The pictures there, show moments of time that looked better, Frozen forever so they might be remembered, and used to forget all the bad things that led here… If she doesn’t come back I know what I’ll do I’ll go out in the snow and make sure the path is clear, And tell myself “now she’ll have to come back to you.” I mean how could she not with all I just went through, It was a lot of snow and I damn near froze, that’s way worse than all of her woes… What would she do if I died, then again, I don’t even know if she’d cry. I’ve been such a piece of work, and you know what, what’s the temperature as it is, I could just lay down and take a nap in her shirt, Really it’s mine, but she had to have it, So when I wasn’t around she could still have my scent. Now it smells like her even though her warmth is no longer present, It’s purpose still stays… So as I lay myself down on the dirt, the liquor in my veins will keep me numb to the pain. Till I pass out and sleep under the cool white sheets, Then maybe she’ll forgive me, and my kids won’t have to ever visit me. I won’t ruin them, and make them take it out on their friends… That’s what’s best, I’ll finally take responsibility for this mess… And as the cold takes me into her embrace, I feel my heartbeat take on a slower pace, And then as the snow covers my back, and she caresses my face, It all fades to black, no more rage in… No one ever listens and everything around me seems cold.
From the day I was born, I was torn from my mother’s womb. Entangled by her umbilical cord as if attempting my own suicide before life could even begin. I remember when; that cold October day, the wind came in through broken windows, the winter’s frost covering old wooden floors, like icing on a birthday cake, I could only dream of having. A skipped childhood led to the miseducation of a learned man, No sense of direction, blinded by my own reality in a place of comfort though bullets fly, innocent people die, drugs are rampant, little boys and girls are still invisible, and the abnormal has become the new normal while solutions lay dormant. The cold concrete bricks that have engulfed my dreams, I do not blame. The teachers that never heard my silent cries, or paid attention to the make-up of a young boy hiding under the mask of many, or the coldest of people who stepped on mother’s hands when held out in hopes of feeding her hungry children, I do not blame. This world I know has never been warm, or forgiving, or handed me chances. This world has taught me no empathy but instead how to keep my arms closed when my own daughters and sons waited for their hugs like the birthday cakes I still yearn to have yet never received. Now that I have your undivided attention and my mind has been exposed, and the silence of my cries have been laid upon ears who know how to love, how to care, and how to shhhhhhhhhhh… Listen… There is still hope even for a heart that has forgotten how to bleed. But for now, it’s still pretty cold. Does anyone have a laugh, an imaginable hug full of hope or maybe, just maybe, you can simply look to the person next to you and warm this world one smile at a time. IT'S STRANGE WHEN WE'VE COME TO A PLACE, WHERE TERROR AGONY AND PAIN IS THE CASE, THE BURNING OF YOUR EYES ARE SIMILAR TO BEING EXPOSED TO A CLOUD OF MACE, THE FEELING IS NOT PREJUDICE OR CONSTRICTED TO RACE, AND YOU CAN TELL THE SCARS ARE DEEP FROM THE LOOKS ON THOSE AROUND FACE, IT'S AN EMERGENCY AND NO TIME TO WASTE, I SWEAR I JUST SEEN A MAN’S SOUL EXIT THIS PLACE, THAT VISION I CAN'T SHAKE, IT'S SO HARD TO SAY GOODBYE BUT HERE'S A THOUGHT WHAT IF OUR BIRTHMARKS CAME AS EXPIRATION DATES!
I’ve been called worthless, no purpose, would be better off six feet under the dirt…sssh
The truth is, my self worth was worth less than that dirt, and I had put myself below the earth Then she came along and dragged me up from the ground, saying “you’re not lost, just waiting to be found.” My love for her, the only time its ever been true, was what kept me alive, The only reason this poem is even in front of you. As all stories of true love see fit, my heart shattered when I realized there was no worth in it. Friends only, never lovers, and so I took my broken heart and placed it where I thought was The best place for worthless things to be, right there in the dirt where she found me. I felt bad, so I toiled all that wretched soil into a place where things of worth can grow productively. And wouldn’t you know it, my heart that I had cast out as debris Had healed and grown into my own personal tree. Never the same love will I ever have again, but still, The fruit of this tree I share freely with my friends. A simple kindness saved me, but from that moment has come many others and I say to all of you, that I am here when needed to be, for I am your loyal brother. This purpose I know have is simple and true, I pass out kindness from her tree, In the hope that it will helps you, To start a garden of your own, so you can help another, And pass it on forever, until the whole world has recovered. Antiques are my favorite…
But can be very expensive and, Costing you a bundle - hence my Determination to shop smart whenever Engaging myself with the ones who will sell For just the right price … The goodies Go fast!! So one would definitely Have to be an early bird, In order to catch the worm……. I Just so happened to be one of those Kind of individuals who truly enjoy, and Love rising with the morning sun, I’ve Mastered the art of knowing what to look for, Now!! More than ever before… I Operate off a great cup of coffee before Parting ways with my wife who, Quickly grabs me by the shoulders to Remind me that tonight’s my night to Sit in at our son’s P.T.A. because she won’t have, Time - due to her hectic schedule……… She has this Unique way of showing her love and affection… I Visualize often of where I’d be without her, or where I may have ended up even… I’m no Xen when it comes to utilizing God giving me time to teach our youth, it ends my day with a peaceful Zazen…… I was doing 120 miles per hour listening to R.E.M. losing my religion
My adrenaline spinning my heart to the afick life Now seeing myself scream gives me heavenly insight |
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"Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction."