The institution solution

I’ve been institutionalized.
My eyes have fallen from the sky 
And my esteem is doomed to never rise. 

My future is only fictions of the unseen or what I can see a nightly dream, 
I’m a tarnished star that was never destined to gleam. 
Since the day of my birth, my fate was scripted on this earth, 
To follow the path of many before me and eventually lose my self-worth. 
I had to follow a plan, step-by-step that was created by the man. 
Each step was excruciating as he lent me no hand. 
But as I climbed my way to the top, 
I kept good spirits as the masses encouraged me not to stop. 
Because as explained, once there, the sky’s the limit, 
But my enthusiastic mind has turned timid. 

I’ve been institutionalized.
My eyes have fallen from the sky 
And my esteem is doomed to never rise. 

Because in this plan I’ve become entangled with the man
And I’ve lost my hands. 
They’re tied behind my back 
As I borrow my future, never to get it back. 
And using all my good will to serve the institution, 
For the institution
And by the institution. 
I guess you can call it something like prostitution. 
Institution of course being the pimp,
Me the pimpee, employee, and forever the payee. 

And so, in the vision of my sorrowed eyes
I cannot reach beyond the horizon where the land meets the sky. 
Following this yellow brick road to the man so he can answer my question, 
My heart reeks in despair as I submit this confession...

That I’ve been institutionalized.
My eyes have fallen from the sky 
And my esteem is doomed to never rise.

(Circa 2009) 

Warfare

God help me please.
I'm bowed down spittin' surahs and verses,
Lighting candles and calling the ancestors.
Tryin' to hail me a Mary or the gods of this earth.
I don't care which religion saves me, I just need a savior.

The missiles went flyin' through the air on Wednesday,
The secondary school was destroyed on Thursday,
And one hundred fifty casualties were counted by Friday.
Thirty-three fathers, twenty-five mothers,
Forty siblings under the age of eight, twelve grandmothers,
Thirteen uncles, nine nieces, seventeen babies, and one politician
Makes a disturbing equation.

I'm livin' in warfare.

I need a heroine with some supernatural powers,
But everybody knows that heroin in the hood is illegal.
The only secret identity is your street alias
And the encrypted language used to keep business up.
Brown sugar makes deals with arms in my backyard
Just the same as international arms deals in my backyard.

A state of war has been declared.

Our neighbors arsenal stash has exceeded our count.
Allies have left the table and gone under the table.
Undercover dealings and unsuspected insurgents.
False flagging, now they're bragging while you're nagging.
And everybody is pissed off.

I'm livin' in warfare.

My home isn't safe and I've been classified a refugee.
I had to take refuge from the anarchy.
I need rescuing from these fire breathing reptiles.
I'm lookin' for a shero in a dope outfit, with an afro,
And cape that waves in the air when she soars.
Maybe she can be beautiful, something like a Tahitian black pearl.
Then maybe she can chase these dragons away.
She'll confuse the enemy like politics.

The same politics that caused this war, that caused this death,
That called the troops, that called for the Sargent to call the mother
Of the soldier that doesn't get to call home anymore.
The blood stained uniform, like that of a deity, inflicts pain.

There is no love in war.

There is nothing fair about the torture of syringes piercing the body.
The destruction of all things is inevitable,
Whether it be war crimes or crimes against humanity.
Whether it be government controlled or secret proprietors.
Whether they label it a war on drugs or a war on crime
To secretly cover up the war against marginalized persons.
Funding of nonsense is expensive and dysfunctional.

I wish I had an escape from this warfare.
 

Exodus

Eluding the grips of some strange gravitational pull that keeps me bound in confusion, my inner being cannot rationalize what the eyes see. They watch the masses assemble by the instructions of the masterminds whose only agenda is to undermine any sense of hope, life or freedoms.

Xenophobia of my kinsmen uprooted from our homeland by the very xenophobes who say we do not belong here. Yet here is nowhere and nothing that was ever given to the minorities that falsely claim deeds, borders and position.

Our present is obstructed by the wrath of pharaohs who glorify themselves while making all others bond servants. The mind is under arrest wallowing in the feed of the news feed, which causes us to continuously feed into the slop being fed.

Dare we make a healthy diet of divinity or a destiny buried deep in the desolate lands of oppression. Stolen from great warriors, ripped from the village, and torn from the womb, my people have lost spiritual connections.

Under the auspice of the Great Source, may it be returned to us as we turn within on our quest for self. May we gain the wisdom to banish the pharaohs forever into clouds of darkness and fire, and then forever understand who we are.

Structures of light and sanctuaries of love promote a peaceful nation for all to thrive. Yet evil intentions with weapons of mass destruction, like syndicated programs and media printouts, stream life into disarray.

Eventually, there must be an emergence of new birth. At current, the intellectual lies dormant, strong leaders are an endangered species, and truth speakers need resurrecting like it's the third day.

X and Y chromosomes of royalty and DNA that unveils true identity pumps through the brave hearts that will ascend and transmute this world. We will take flight like a great wind and attract the energies from the polars of the earth.

Only when we seek the truth, embrace it and make it life, then we shall find who we are and our place in this universe. Therefore, no more toiling in pharaoh's sand, nor reasoning with irrationality, and loathing in mediocrity.

Defeated and blindly we march through the labyrinth of society, involuntarily inducted at sunrise and returning to the earth at sunset hoping to be remembered. Instead, dare to have the notion to just be, not in the future or the past, but be here at present alive and full.

Unify the senses to clearly see what is in plain sight. Loose the shackles of Egypt and break free to hear birds tweet from the tree of life and not the manufactured cellulars that craft living cells into drones.

Slavery cannot prevail in consciousness. Though ships and holding cells, untruths and false documents have been destroyed, the mind is the greatest slave vessel ever to be controlled and waiting to be set free.

Saturday, August 8, 2015 2:09PM EDT

Bed Ridden

I don’t want to get up in the mornings, I keep resetting the alarm clock.
My mind gets tired as soon as I process today’s thought. Unhappy environments drain every inch of me. Destiny and fate assure me that this is not where I’m supposed to be. I stand in line to punch in, and for six hours straight I die within, and can’t settle with the fact that tomorrow I’ll do it all again.

Systems set up that fail to irrigate the proper nutrients that help the crops grow. Systems set up that lead from inner city and end at death row. 

I was hired to teach daddy’s girl and momma’s boy, I was hired to teach America’s youth. I don’t desire to teach a biased curriculum, I don’t desire to tie educational lies with historical truth.

And that’s why I don’t want to get up in the mornings, I keep resetting the alarm clock. My mind gets tired as soon as I process today’s thought.

And this economic depression, puts all optimism into regression, slowly turning into suppression of I want, I had but it exists no more so I can’t have, joy turned to sad, the speakers voice suppressed in the pad. Drowning in the ink of the pen, which has a mighty position on the lives of men. But nobody smart ever reads, In their minds they plant no wisdom seeds, but live life on the basis of what they see.

And might they see me? A great leader I could be, but I don’t want to get up in the mornings, I keep resetting the alarm clock. My mind gets tired as soon as I process today’s thought. And all while I’m bed ridden, my message shall remain hidden.

Until I choose to get up and put on my shoes, and then walk a mile down the road of life trying not to hit snooze.

(Circa April 2009)