Let Me Live!

Let Me Live!

I'm respirating, respiring,
Looking for some reciprocity,
But all I see is animosity

Bang! Bang!
One shot to the neck
Hot lead to sign my death certificate
My eulogy written in blood

Let Me Live!

Bang! Bang! One shot to the abdomen
Shattered in fragments
Momma's tears went stagnant
As baby boy hit the pavement
Broad day light,
But ain't nobody saw it
CSI ain't solved it
Back page under the auspice...
Of homicide
A secret cover up for...
Genocide

Ravish my neighborhood,
Then gentrify
Chem trail clouds floating through the sky
Breath gone and I close my eye
I told God, "I ain't ready to die"

Let me live!

My father cried out, "God why?"

Let me live. Let me live.
I still got too much to give

Shots fired and I couldn't duck
Heart stopped and I can't get up

Let me live.

(In loving memory of Rod) 

The Man and Woman: Rivals or Lovers?

This is not necessarily an examination of the relationship between men and women from both perspectives, but more so analyzing how the woman interacts with the man. All things herein are not definitive, as I seek to explore ideas and that which we observe in society. This topic is broad and cannot be summed up in this small posting with all of the elements that would need to be considered in investigating the relationship between men and women. Nonetheless, I do hope to invoke minds to reflect introspectively for positive movement toward healing ourselves, our relationships and communities.   

Can we truly understand our men? It is true that we share DNA, cultural identities, our homes and much more with our men, but can a woman know what it is like to be a man? Despite the depth of study or the closeness of the relationship, a man and woman have different hormones and genetic construction. This alone will affect how we think and feel and this is irrespective of what science today is able to do with the human body; I am speaking of the human in his or her natural born state.

If social constructs are to be considered, then we must look at the demands of being a man or woman. What is expected of the woman? How has she been shaped by society, all including religion, social media, career, school, and childhood? In this same respect, ask these questions of the man. How does this play into the psyche and inevitably our character and who we think we are? At present, our men are being assaulted, killed and imprisoned at alarming rates. Our men have a social pressure unlike any other and the double standard of life presses us in different ways that are undebatable.   

How are mothers raising their sons? There is an abundance of single mothers and this statistic dominates in the so called "Black community."¹ The female caregiver in the home is the child’s first impression of a woman. A single mother is raising a male child from a female’s perspective, and she encourages him and disciplines him in the same manner, and although she may be a good teacher, she cannot give him the masculine energy that a man can. If the father is not there, how does this impact the son and the mother? If that child is never given an example of an adult male and female relationship, how will it affect him in adulthood when he seeks a relationship?

If both parents are present in the home the same inquiries can be made. What are the parents modeling for their son or daughters? Do we teach our children how to love themselves, to love others, or how to conduct healthy relationships? Are children helped in exploring their identity and self-pride from birth?  

Do we know how to love the man? There are many influences that shape who we are or who we think we are. Reflecting on the above statement of the home and child rearing, and also to mention society’s impact on our psyche, do we understand how to love? It cannot be what we think love is because that will vary by each person you ask. So, it seems we have a dilemma. How is love defined?

If we are to love the man we must first admit to several things. True love is not what a man can do for you, that is expectation. True love is not expecting a man to build you up or make you feel a certain way, that is insecurity. True love is first knowing one’s self—period. Of course there will be practical expectations in growing any relationship, but if you are sound in who you are and understand your purpose in life, then you do not come in the relationship needing things, such as the false fulfillment sex, someone to take care of you, needing someone to fill your childhood voids or daddy and mommy issues, pacify your insecurities, curb your trauma from sexual abuse or any of the other experiences that may come along with life. If the man and woman are sound in who they are, then they can avoid coming into a relationship with lack or a need for the other to give them something. This curtails disappointments that may diminish the relationship. 

Now the task is to seek if we really know and love self and honestly concluding on that matter.

Does the woman really know who she is on a soul level beyond what has been scripted in religious texts and social constructs? What was the true purpose and role of man and woman and how does knowledge of this directly affect a woman’s ability to love her man? 

1. http://datacenter.kidscount.org/data/tables/107-children-in-single-parent-families-by#detailed/1/any/false/573,869,36,868,867/10,11,9,12,1,185,13/432,431

And also see for example, http://www.actrochester.org/children-youth/family-support/single-parent-families/single-parent-families-by-race-ethnicity  

Poem #30

Six Feet Under

Borrow up your debt

Borrowing your life

Buried in yo debt

Buried in the ground

Ashes of the earth

Food for the Serpent

Burrow in your emotions

Drown in yo misery

Medical dispensary

Medicate the misery

Then repeat that history

Death you pay homage

Covers for yo visage

Egos you massage

Follow the mirage

The depths of your soul

Where? Nobody knows?

Nowhere to behold

Drowning in the depths

A loan for your life

Then drown in yo debt

Debiting the future

Credit in ya past

Present checks you can’t cash

But give homage to the banks

Shippin out your heart

Dearly we depart

Departed from where we started

Stranded at where we landed

Marching to what we’re handed

Scandal on top of scandal

Pounded with the hammer

Swingin with the scales

Dying in the sea

Dying, no mercy

Sea, can’t you see?

Agents in a flesh

Askin for permissions

Of false jurisdictions

Wayward superstitions

Spiritual disposition

Soul deposition

Sold across the water

Mary sold her daughter

Serpent came and bought her

Never knew her father

Born into labor

Labor into birth

The fall you enter first

The self at its worst

Carried in a hearse

Carried in momma’s purse

Bills for the first

Gifted in the curse

Babbled away ya worth

Bowl of beans for ya eye

A tax lien for ya pride

Sharp blade for ya hide

You got down for the ride

Pledged to be by his side

Arms open wide

Knees opened wider

Struggle to survive

Down beneath ya feet

Bound to repeat

Buried six feet deep 

Poem #29

BLEACH

Bleach for the dirty laundry

Bleach for the floor

Bleach for your teeth

Bleach for the pour

Bleach for your skin

Bleach makes a mask

Bleach for your all of y’all

They even got bleach for yo ass?!

No protection, bleach seeping through pores

Bleach doing damage like fictitious religious lore

This intricate compound crafted in the vats of robed wizards

A bats wing, seven spiders legs and the tail of a lizard

Stir three times to the left and ten times to the right

Now pour into the movies and media, let ‘em dream about it at night

Bleach to wash your brain

You waking up brainwashed, can’t remember yo name

Poem #28

THE CHANCE PRINCIPLE: PART II

If I had a chance I’d dance among the stars  

Hop some constellations and wave good-bye to mars

My dreams would shoot me way beyond the moon

Into galaxies infinity and I’d make it home by noon

I’d light the path to your conscience in realms light years away

With a tuning of the right frequency, shifting from pause to play

If I had a chance I’d solve the world’s great mysteries

I’d figure out what went wrong in all the great histories

I’d cause healthy crops to grow that nourish the mind

The freshest fruits, purest water, milk and honey divine

Here I am caught between the same plain game of mundane

Four seasons of sunshine, autumn leaves, snow and spring rain  

Desire still tingles and tickles the root of my soul

Reality remains stagnant, but can’t taint my goal

I’d be the light if I had a chance

#TheChancePrinciple

Poem #27

Young God born in the ghetto
Struck by Gepetto
Goddesses worshiping stiletto

Do they know?

Can they see the secret societies
Secret proprietaries
Denying me
Lying to me
Hiring me
Turn around and firing me

Pictures of matrices is what you paintin' for me

We no see divinity
We cannot heal like a shaman
We can't make it rain with a rain dance
Not like strippers do    
I'm talkin' voodoo
Haitian integrated indigenous DNA
Melinated
Propagated
Now my warriors castrated, emasculated
Indoctrinated, that's the only way we know to make it
Incarcerated, slangin' and bangin' is how we made it

Satrseeds fallen from the sky
Eating American poisonous pies
Feastin' on trumped up American lies

YO EVOLUTION WON'T BE TELEVISED!

House of Cards
Game of Thrones
American Gods

This is your chance
To take a stance
Introspection
Positive reflections
Higher self connectin'

Arise

Poem #26

Congratulations Burj Khalifa!

Iconic and filled with grandeur,

Travelers flock from around the globe to admire your beauty.

With a viewing deck cleverly named “At the Top,”

It measures just at 555 meters.

All of its shining glory is measured at 828

And two more to the tip make it a round 830.

Congratulations Burj Khalifa!

Poem #25

From the porch I gaze at the puddles gathering on the crooked pathway.

The grey skies forecasted showers.

I planned for a walk in the sun,

But the greater of us has taken precedence.

Contemplating,

I remain in my sheltered position.  

Unbothered,

The rain moves faster.

Annoyance creeps up my neck.

The rain, nearly laughing, continues to dance among the tree tops and in the grass.

I nudge my foot out only to be met with cool drops.

The rain is not partial, but flows freely touching all things.

I sit,

I consider dashing from my dry safe haven.

I put out my hand this time.

The rain is happy to greet me.  

The favor is not returned as I turn and sulk.

Head dropped to the ground, the slowing of pitter-patter went unnoticed.

Frustrated with my eyes squeezed tight,

I did not hear the quiet of the lifting rain.

The beat played over in my head.

Rain hitting the wooden stairs,

Rain banging against the aluminum,

Rain tapping the concrete.

I could hear it drumming.

Suddenly,

Warmth pierced the crown of my head.

I loosened my eyes to see the grey clouds had shifted,

The rain had stopped,

The sun was peeking through the sky

And glaring a single ray on me.

Like the rain, it was happy to greet me.

Beaming on my head,

I understood what I needed to do.

Either rain or sunshine,

Don’t ever hold your head down.

Always hold your head high.

Poem #24

My dearest, here is a word of advice. Write. Write as often as you can, and more often than you should. Script out a new world, consort the forces from the great beyond and write your grandest imagination. Make it real, and then believe in it, that it is honest and from the heart. Let your soul shine through your words so they resonate in the spirit and mind. Let your words create visual art. Let them be music to the ear drum. When you grow tired or become void of ideas, continue to write. Challenge societal taboos and religious norms. Deviate from the standard plot with a jerking twist of the mystics. Use every literary force in your repertoire, journey to and fro to be inspired, look within to create your masterpiece.

Sincerely,

The Bard  

Poem #23

The perfect accompaniment to my anatomy, short and round

Dancing, moving, twirling feet

Sinking in the shore lines of the warmest seas, bare and free

Joyful, pleasant, gracious feet

That which carries me to my destination, brown and smooth

Walking, skipping, running feet

They keep the rhythm of my life’s beat, curved and strong

Stomping, hip-hopping, ditty bopping feet

Sharing my affection for shoes, compromising and understanding

Flattered, beautiful, complimenting feet

Poem #22

The human heart is the size of your fist,

Yet it is the strongest organ in the body,

Vital to life as the center of our cardiovascular system,

The analogy for our emotions and thoughts,

And that which dictates our very existence. 

Poem #21

The Junk Yard

There is a fruit and vegetable section called fresh produce.

Seafood, beef, turkey, chicken, and any other animal products compose the meat section.

The isle of dry goods is filled with baking products, breads, cookies, crackers and cereals.

In to the frozen section you can find anything on ice, even fully prepared meals.

The dairy section is full of milk products, butter, cheeses and fresh eggs.

The bakery is full of sweet treats and fresh baked goods to tempt your palate.

Juices of all sorts, powdered and carbonated drinks and alcohol just alike in the beverage section.

The deli has hot and cold meals, cold cuts and everything ready to scooped, sliced, and weighed.

But, there is one small section of the store labeled “organic foods.”

So what does that make of all the other foods in the store?

Poem #20

Awareness is a constant state of evolution

Evolving as we observe things differently

Differing our perspective and the prism’s angle

Angling ourselves within the situation

Situating on what we think is right

Right down to the very decision

Deciding to leave, he took up his bag

Bagged up his emotions and moved on

Onward to inner understanding of his true identity

Identifying with the Most High as a divine being

Being that he is and always has been unknowingly

Unknown secrets locked in his DNA, of his father, of his kin

Kinship to deities of the primordial

Primordial forms and origins that shaped this world

Worldly thoughts that pillaged this world to its current state

Stated facts that are sheer fabrications to degrade him

Him that is to rule, to give life, to love all and be love

Love tainted and deprived, he has struggled to become

Becoming and breaking free of what was set before his life

Living now in the trueness of his nature

Naturally born free

Free 

Poem #19

Awake oh ye sleepers

Rise from your unconscious state

Sleep no more

Everything you learned is a lie

Liberty is not freedom by any definition

Scribes scripted clauses and causes of your death

Deceptions encrypted on hemp,

Engrained in the fibers of the land

Of your cells

Bondage

Locked in cells

Awake oh sleepers of the world

Your bed is filled with creepy crawlers

Sleep no more

The snakes laying as branches fallen in the woods

Positioned to sink venomous fangs in your flesh

Then rotting from the wound site and spreading

Through your body,

Your home

And community

Riddled with tragedies and crisis

Of finance, health, of life

Awake oh ye sleepers

Rise to your former glory

Sleep no more

Take up your weapons

Wage war against the oppressor

Take back your mind

Teach your own children

Take back the land

Build your own civilizations

Be fierce,

Take savagery to a new level

Spare none

Awake oh sleepers of the world

Your throne awaits your resurrection

Sleep no more

Poem #18

How to Daydream

First position yourself somewhere comfortable,

No tensions in the body.

Fix your eyes on one spot

And stare for an elongated period of time.

Let thoughts begin to flood.

Grab hold of one that evokes strong feelings;

This will drown out your immediate surroundings.

Allow the thoughts to take charge if all your senses.

Live in the thought,

Let it transport you to another place.

Be there,

Stay there,

Make it reality. 

Poem #17

Tattoos cover my body in expressions of my greatest joys and inner thoughts.

My hair colored in the fiery reds of the phoenix and my eyes peacock blue.  

I am the world’s greatest musician and songstress reveled in time.

My net worth exceeds your wildest imagination, celebrities line at my feet.

I am the red carpet, the show stopper and trend setter that muddles your feed.

Born in the hills of the west coast from a mother native to the eastern shores.

I am America, I am the poster child, the quintessential American girl. 

Poem #16

Is there such a thing as the great beyond, paradise, heaven, life after death?

This place so many fashion their lives trying to get to.

Living for something that is unseen in the visible.

Hope turns a blind eye and castrates what is now.

Is it common, every day suicide if we only live to die? 

Poem #15

Sitting in the kitchen at 3 a.m. 

Discussing the complexities of the universe. 

Why? 

Because there is no time, 

We have nowhere to be, 

But here in this moment, 

Living in our words, 

Thoughts, 

Vibrations.

The vibes have transcended this dwelling place 

With a seven mile radius 

As we slowly intertwined our spirits. 

We play in our neighbors’ subconscious 

Like spinning vinyl soothing them to sleep.

Where does the universe lie, you ask, 

And I come closer to reveal the secrets inside, 

The micro to the macro; 

As above, so below. 

The stars in your eyes, 

The wind in your breath, 

The matter in every cell of your being.

The conversation goes round and round 

Creating a cyclone of energy, 

Sharing the wisdom of the ancestors, 

Connecting to the Great Spirit. 

We propel into an existence 

Devoid of time and space, 

Infinite nothingness 

Where our souls parallel.   

Our circadian rhythm grooves to melodies 

Sung from the heart, 

Pulsing through the veins, 

Pumping the organs. 

We are music! 

3 a.m. slow jams, 

Non-stop favorite hits, 

Classics that resonate 

Throughout the universe within.