i dunno yet

Every kiss she implanted on my 5 year old body, taught me so much
Every touch, every slap, every suffocating pillow
Every cry my mother caused me to shed, taught me so much
Every man she slept with, every blunt she smoked, every absent night
Days got a little colder, but my future, got a little more bright
Woman have pained me, their fingers did nothing in their youth besides give me nightmares, and she forced me to shove mine in her warmth, instead of lovingly giving it to me. She raped me of my manhood.
She raped me of love. Leaving a skewed perspective on what to hold dear in life
Not a love unfathomable blessed by god and a loving wife
She taught me sex, and pain, and tears and my mother and father taught me drugs
My life was destined to be hidden in the dark shadows of hell
But the devils yellow teeth, needed colgate and I gladly brushed them
Stoking his cavities and prying out the flesh of other little boys between his teeth, his giant mouth amazed me.
When he yawned, the heat of his pain grazed my neck. And his 4 o clock tea was accompanied by the fruit of eve. And he gladly shared a bite with me. I grew tired of these events.
And when she forcefully sucked my……I wish I was old enough to ejaculate to drown her in my pain
And mix this in with cocaine and bruises. I was lost
I became promiscuous, scared of my own power, I lost it in them
I made them pay for every act and betray, for every tear they left me, for every time I was forced to gurgle on the blood of the devils tea, romanticizing about the day when eve would lay down her fruit and love me
These woman are powerful.
But have I not experienced this. I would beat them. I would cheat them.
Have I not found poetry, and realized that poetry is a woman
I found sense in her words, more sense then I could ever find in her sisters thighs.
She stimulated me with her mind, she didn’t slap me, she didn’t suffocate me, she loved me
More then I ever loved myself.
And this has forced me to believe that god is a female
Cause through her clouds she seems to just shower me with pain, but she is gracious and godly enough to make it up. every time I pray, she bestows on me her touch. Her love, her warmth. She floods me with tears just like she flooded noah, I feel gracious to be in such holy company.
If all things woman have impacted me, I know there is that one woman for me
So I don’t beat them, I don’t cheat them, I don’t hate myself, I was lucky enough to dig deep and discover me before the devil did, lucky enough to not get lost in the battle of manhood and pride and ego, and to unleash my pain and let my feelings show.
I am glad she forced my fingers in her warmth, cause it has stayed on stained and remained on my finger tips, so I anything I touch, I leave the smell of her, and I bask in the ambience
Im learning to love, and no matter how much she has pained me, she is now showing me thee way
So believe when I tell you, believe when I say
These woman, are powerful
No matter how much evil they may show, their halos seem to always glow
They are god, they are mothers, they are poetry, they are flowers gentled by the dirt us men have dug upon them.
But I choose to water instead of kill
And I thank her for showing me show much

Leave Their Caskets Open

We cant say hey baby to their woman. But they can rape ours
We cant say hey baby to their woman. But they can rape ours
Cause that’s exactly what happened in Money, Mississippi
At the age of 14 Emmit Tilll, was murdered by middle age white man for whistling at their woman
Never mind the only reason why this young black predecessor of slavery is in this country is because of them
Because his grandmother got raped by their grandfathers, so you tell me, was it fair for young Emitt Till to be slaughtered
Im glad mama left the casket open, I can still see the little boys disfigured face, and it looks a lot like mine

Oakland California, Oscar Grant is shot in the back by police man at a subway station
Lying their on the ground, this police brutality has become the modern day lynching
And our justice system turns their rosey white cheeks, never ask the victim to speak, equit these former masters of slavery.
This whole conspiracy ish, now doesn’t seem so crazy

They know damn well what their doing when they shoot Sean Bell 50 times
Every bullet piercing his body inserts new sensations of hate, pushed in with the liquid of 18th century atlantic waters that brought slave ships here
Every bullet left his wife standing alone at the alter, next to emitt tills open casket
I couldn’t imagine the poor black widows pain, I couldn’t grasp it
Wedding bells ringing to the tune of hearse horn with one pull of a trigger
Every shot, the pain gets bigger, leaving Malcolm and Martin turning in their grave
I want justice

I want liberty bills ringing to the tune of tupac lyrics, Malcolm x speeches and martin luther dreams
Not gun clips exploding into the night sky
Sparks igniting flames that burned Mississippi
Naturally boiled southern hate oozing out the trigger mans finger tips, like chitlins spilling from spoons on a hot Georgia day
Emitt Till, Oscar Grant, Sean Bell, for the mother left in Chicago, the fatherless child left in Oakland, and the widow in New York, I pray
They have all secured a spot in my soul that has survived jim crow, where they will stay

Cell phone cameras caught the hanis act, but videos doesn’t mean anything these days if your black
The only videos they need to see, are the ones that play continuously on bet
Not Rodney king
So they assume we are ignorant petty fools, shooting us, on subway trains that little boys ride to school

Murdering our sorrow, ruining tomorrow, casting dark clouds in are already dark sky
We live in a different world
But somehow their bullets seem to still enter

I cry for these three men, and my tears stream faster then when their lives were took
I will never look at white woman the same, I will never look at bart trains the same, I will never look at bachelor parties the same
From these three things, I swear to refrain, I simply don’t want to die
So I close my left eye, and with my right I see the bloody truth, these men need to stop killing our youth
I want justice
R.I.P
Black Men
I love you
You are me

I'm Done Fighting

“They say blood is thicker than water. Maybe that’s why we battle our own with more energy and gusto than we would ever expend on strangers.”

I’ve laid down my shields
My flesh my father has pierced with his sword, I am his biggest enemy
Yet he tells me he loves me
A civil war, battle of the fittest, whatever you wanna call it
Im losing

His tactics are Rome like
Charging in phalanx formation, he has 300 lies, and they all pierce me
Grazing my ear, I think I’ve been hit
I think he makes me cry, but tells me to shutup, don’t show it, be a man, have some pride
But its killing me inside
Lauryn Hill kills softly, my dad kills quickly and swiftly
Body blows and hits to the skull, and rattles my mind and leaves me in a coma
Paralyzed from the heart down, he leaves me empty

Our battle field is dark and gloomy, not even god can bare to watch
Not even ravens inhabit the dead trees
My dads stare, is deadly
He left me when I was 2
Attending all white powder parties, dressed to the tee, powder around his nose, sniffing in rushes
Sniffing lines, sniffing me
He wants me dead

Napoleon taught him everything
David taught him how to aim sling shots that shot crack rocks, and they hit me in the nostril
But I don’t sniff cause I am not a addict, I am not my fathers son
Hitler taught him a Nazi mentality, Shaka Zulu taught him heart, Sadaam gave him weapons of mass destruction
And they lie within the syllables of his words
They are atomic
You cant stomach the pain

Fidel Castro told him not to let me in his life
His emotional ties are fenced off from me
But once he haves me in his hate, he wont let me escape
Imprisoned by his pain, I am shackled in chains, he doesn’t want to see my happy
So I pick up spheres and aim them at his chest but never do I have the nerve to kill
I couldn’t imagine my fathers blood in the cracks of my fingers, staining my hands like he has stained my soul, well because, my hands are just like his

My lips, my shoulders, my build. Exact replicas of the dictator.
We are each others enemies, not one another’s keeper
And if blood is thicker then water, he likes milk, because he pollutes my wholesome with his oil
And it stays a float surfacing in my mind, parading around me like a dark sky

Dad, when did I ever try and hurt you
Don’t take your pain out on me
I am only a kid, let me breathe
Im tired of this field, this sky, these trees, just put down your sword, and let me, be me
Your son is tired of fighting

Sugar

Back in the Bronx they talked about him like a king
An African King, a shining prince, he didn’t call his counterpart a bitch and he only wore gold, never platinum
Diamonds was a never, he knew his own people died mining them in Sierra Leone
But like whips on backs he couldn’t leave a block party and white woman alone
So he became universal like E.T. and Steven Spielberg
He started with spoken word but Mr. Dj said ay dog, you need a beat
You can be an M.C., move the crowd for me please
Give young woman something else to do, something they can feel good about instead of getting on their knees
Get these men out the streets
We gonna have a party

He rode sleds down sugar hills and began to jump rope like little black girls
He said a hip-hop, the hippie the hippie, to the hip-hop, a you don’t stop, the rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat

And he jumped, and swayed through hoops of slavery
He had made it for the time being but had 30 more years of obstacles to overcome
The trend, the movement, the lifestyle, the revolution, had just begun

He had lives to save, little boys to lead a stray, and teenage girls to get pregnant
He had people to kill, had to commit a few 187’s on a undercover cop, and had rape cases to be filed
This boy was young, ruthless and wild

He kissed grandfather slavery songs and father jazz and sister r and b goodbye
He was on his own, with just his gun by his side


He hit the streets, kissed the Bronx graffiti and cardboard goodbye
Twenty years later ended up on the vegas strip
You live by the gun, you die by gun, and he killed Tupac Shakur
The right side of his body, vs. the left side, east vs. west, he was stuck in a internal war
But if he still just moved crowds instead of coke and drug smoke, and told young me to tote and chug, and young girls to dance and suck, we would still have Mr. Pac alive

But this man became a nigga, a soul deprived
West Coast messed him up, he needed a mental pilgrimage back to the east coast like El Hajj Malik Shabazz to Mecca
But money and power tends to make you forget who you are
A ghetto superstar, the definition he became. But drowning out the words, you can hear his pain
A disturbed being of social injustices, but he acts like we don’t know
He acts like we cant relate, like he is the only one. And his off spring, his sons, began doing the same, making up stupid ass dances that they did in slavery days.
The cycle is spinning, we are rewinding time, only difference is records are no longer a dime
We make him rich, we are somewhat his bitch
So I download his testimony
Gas is to high to be spending money on music that is gassed up with steroids, prescribed by rappers who record high

So Mr. Hip-Hop, you might be losing a fan, you use to be the man
You saved my life, you gave me testimony and taught me right
But you no longer give men a bonnie and woman a clyde
You tell us to cop expensive rides and flip off cop cars
To buy diamonds that just kill our people
To just flat out kill are people
And I liked you a lot better when you were in Bronx and Brooklyn
But now you’re a Crooklyn, Hip-Hop, who took him
I don’t recognize you at all
Remove your mask, and run into my arms

It hurts to see your downfall

I just want you sliding down sugar hills
And jumping rope like black girls, I liked you a lot better when you said
a hip-hop, the hippie the hippie, to the hip-hop, a you don’t stop, the rock it to the bang bang boogie say up jumped the boogie to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat

But please…….stop……and return to your sugary roots

They Told Me I Would Be Nothing

They told me I would amount to nothing. They told me to never speak of success or Harvard PH.D.s. They told me I was under represented because my high school would have no black teachers on the faculty. So they told me to look up to them. They told me to forget my existence, my beliefs, my qualities that I embody, and to leave my head empty so they could cram in their knowledge. They shove text books in my face and then tell me I have to pay 100,00 dollars for college, when they know damn well I don’t have that kind of money. And if I were a woman, I would strip to pay my tuition, but I don’t have the proper body parts men drool over, I am only a man. So after you’ve took all of me what part of me do I have left. I have scratched and scraped this world for a piece of myself and I came up empty. I feel as if your trying to pimp me, as if im just a number, a 9 digit 2 dashed government assigned label. And I will speak this until you prove to me otherwise. And im not faulting any individual for I know its as collective as rain drops on window panes. Or my parents addictions on my childhood pains, so my family or society, who do I blame? No one.
I thank god, and stay grounded in my faith. And I thank. I thank him for blessing me with the gift of gab, to open these lips and speak words that paint pictures. They paint over cold inner city concrete, and paint on aristocratic mansions, they paint the color of my tongue, red, on all creations of man. And my color of passion becomes the 9th wonder of the world. I thank god for giving me this brush. Thank him for giving me the gift of making my old ancestors blush because I am half white, a part of me is. And yes, I am half black, a part of me lives. Ive been constructed from the same fibers of lynching ropes, and they make up the roughness of my palms. But I found it weird that if I blame whites, I blame half of me for doing the other half wrong. But they told me all of me was. They told me I would amount to nothing.

The Only Girl For Me

She walked in, and sat, a smile stretching from one corner of her exotic sun tanned model face to the other
It was endless, like gods light
She came bearing fruit, and threw rose pedals from a basket calling my feet’s name, saying walk
I wont bite
She was bad
I mean Halle Barry, Alicia Keys, Beyonce, and Maya Angelou all rolled into one
Like the syllables of my words when I try and make them rhyme to fit a line, she was curved
I followed her rose path and I pressed my lips against her, and after a few seconds of mental elation and heaven, I asked what in the world is your name and where do they make woman like you
She said
Poetry, and im from the very pit of your soul
I rest in the solitude of confused states of being, over bearing emotions, and abandonment
You gave birth to me, so don’t blame me, blame your mama for making me this way
You constructed my face when you wrote your first poem, when you were back in the 7th grade
And now 17 years old, you entered a slam and finished making my legs, so I have appeared
You lighted my eyes with your sheer emotion and you make me hungry when you strive for excellence
Feed me
With your love
I don’t ask for much, all I ask is to be clothed nice and I don’t start a lot of fights, and I’m very comforting and giving and forgiving and all the traits you look for in a spouse, I will be that for you baby
Your ancient African blood mixed with your European enlightenment has made my skin a mulatto mocha
So when you press your finger to my cheeks don’t be surprised if your skin blends in
So when you press your pen to my pages don’t be surprised if your pen seems to just continue writing
We are meant for one another, there is no denying, or fighting, just keep striving for our honeymoon, coming the day after we wed
And I know you’ve already had me a plenty of nights alone in your bed, as you stay up and make love to me with raw passion
Sometimes you cry as you take me for your coveted rides, you look me in the eyes and say poetry , I love you
And I believe you nate
I believe you like I have never believed any man before
Your intentions are pure and your so compassionate, im not use to it
Im use to being pushed aside thrown in boxes and shoved away in closets, or garbage cans. Im forced to wear rags cause some people just don’t want to see me exposed. Little do they know its not in devious flaunting form, I am 100 percent natural beauty. So thank you for giving me a chance to be who I am.
They told you never to write me. They told you I didn’t exist like the blood of Nigerian Kings, or a black jesus. I was suppose to stay inside of you, the only thing that kept me alive was the vibrations of your heartbeat. My yearning to exist outside on some kind of paper turned to blood and I began to bleed, until finally you wrote with my red ink. Its as potent as the red lipstick of my lips that you kiss.
I love you
I think I want you to have my kid
Lets name the daughter prosperity and the son rose
And he will grow, from cracks of concrete and sprout on to something as great as you one day will be
But remember who was your first partner, who you first engaged with
It was me, poetry
You had me at hello, I came and sat down and saw you standing in the corner with tears in your eyes, and baby I wanted them to dry
So I offered my fruit, and gave you my pages, you had no pen so I told you to just use your fingers, let them act as ink and tattoo on my canvas scribes
Tattoo the name poetry on your forearm because Mr. Hall, I am always by your side

SAYS

Us poets are gonna be revolutionary