the hardest part about having a music box heart is deciding which melodies to play/ i long to hold 16 gigs and play every weeping willow ballad ever written, every riff and run of travailing prayer in your garden of gethsemene/ when you asked God to take the pain away, to remove this cup from your hands, i heard you/ and, if i could, i would take every cup from you/ take them back like shots of hard liquor, if it meant it would keep you from stumbling through this life in a drunken stupor of struggle/ let me be your drinking buddy/ i will match you shot for shot, treble clefts & half notes of sorrow until my heart is just as full, if not, overflowing-- i was created for this/ with this ironman music box heart, let me hold your muse/ we were made friends by divine incident, sisters by holy convocation-- it was not meant for you to be alone/ this piece was not meant to be a solo but an ensemble/ so let me accompany you/ and, because i'm selfish, i will steal the show, snatch the mic from your hand in a drunken rage and no one will notice when you leave the stage free/ i will let them crucify me/ so when your heart comes near to bursting and your weeping willow ballads begin to crescendo, allow me to wrap my arms around you/ let the steady bass of my esperanza spalding heart keep you, drown out all that seeks to paralyze you/ and we will sway to these sad songs together/ the drunken dance of the depressed and downtrodden/ and though disparity and displacement be our muse, i will not let them take you under/ i will hold on for dear life, for your life/ and i promise, i will not let your heart break.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
no sleep tonight
i flip through old photos of us/ and i realize that, yes, the poetess was right-- sometimes love ends just like this-- in 2 dimensions/ so i comb through our skeletal remains/ polaroids of past passion/ we are frozen in memory of ourselves, the you and i that was us at one time/ captured smiles & constricted muscle solidified under ash/ it was not the eruption that killed us, not the lava that burned us-- it was the debris & the secondhand smoke that constricted our airways/ and so here we lay/ freezeframe tricked into being genuinely happy because this midas touch we had sounded like such a good idea until your heart turned to gold, no longer malleable by the warmth in my palms-- baby you turned cold/ and so i turned around/ in hopes that you would maybe come back to life if you thought i wasn't looking/ but one swift about face later, she had you standing at attention and i haven't felt at ease since then/ i love you/ but only because my heart loves you, only because my spirit longs for you, because our souls, they match/ & so i just do what these things tell me because love itself is incapable of reciprocity & unlike violence & racism & war, there is no justice or peace in love/ no piece outside of the ruins of what was our pompeii/ the mighty has fallen/ & the mighty was me, & me only/ a king mourning his metallic daughter/ an emperor bathing in the remnants of a dead city/ i have melted what was left of you & formed it into a locket/ &, yes, i make pilgrimages to our mt. vesuvius from time to time/ but if this sounds like a heartbroken lovesick take me back piece, just know that my heart is far from it/ this piece is just my periodic hero worship eucharist in remembrance of the one that taught me to love in the first place/ i in no way regret you & sometimes i may even miss you/ but i'm tired of this brian mcknight internal longing for what once was, on some "do i ever cross your mind anytime" bullshii-- miss me with that, "i will no longer audition for your attention"/ so when you come back to look at our photos, i won't be there/ see baby, i found my pulse in my womanhood, heard myself smile until i could not see & while you were turned around not looking, i came back to life again.
♥
♥
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Open Letter to the Current Residents of 6203
*except for yall heaux asshh lil baby sheep dawg
OR "Popsicle Thug Love: installment two, End of Year Reflections: part one"!!!
so of course, me being the OD thinker that i am, this whole popsicle thugfest we had talked about has been on my mind a lot lately as i consider people's roles in my life & learn to separate the leaves from the roots & whatnot. & so consequently i've been thinking about you guys. #pause, #word to jerrid for preaching that in HV the other day. when he told us to stop & think about having another year of life, i immediately thought of you guys. because this time last year, someone i was sooo sure was a root in my life, proved that she was indeed a leaf. around this time last year i was learning a whirlwind of lessons, none of which felt particularly good-- i was learning how to be alone without being lonely because little did i know, God would soon break me from people that i wasn't aware weren't good for me. #sidenote-- spiritual and emotional growth can be THE absolute most painful growing pain ever in life lol anywho tho, he opened my eyes to sooo many things that everybody saw but me. but i digress. the biggest change between november 10, 2009 and november 10, 2010 is a change of scenery and surroundings. & that's where you harTlets come in. so fastforward to me writing poems about yall individually & thangs & God gave me the idea to address yall as a household first because of what just being in the place where you all dwell has done for me... because literally, 6203 has become a place of refuge for me. & i doubt you will ever understand the caliber of people you are & thus the type of environment you've created, not because your mind can't grasp it, but because i can't put into words what yall have done for me in the short time since we started kickin it heavy this summer. but, you people have called on me to try. & so, here goes:
metaphorically, 6203 is my sanctuary and our friendship is my religion. literally, the freedom i have there and the fact that any burden i may carry is nonexistent after i cross that threshold has been my salvation this semester. a lot of ppl get caught up in religion-- in services, masses, rituals, traditions-- so much so that they lose sight of the fact that all God wants is a relationship. with that being said, i literally feel closer to God when i'm with you all-- his most important commandment is to love & i have experienced nothing short of an outpouring of God's love through yall every time i'm in that house. when school and work and organizations and relationships and the weight of being a poet alone got too heavy for me, i found refuge in 6203. i'm taking 17 hours, working two jobs [I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE THISSSS!!!], puttin in work for a couple organizations, tryna figure out wth ima do with my life and who i'm gonna get to do it with-- that's a full plate lol but i literally feel weightless in yalls house. i know that there was many a time when there were things i woulda coulda probably shoulda been doin while i was kickin it with yall but... i could not miss the therapy and the relaxation in arguing and jumping around and effin shii up and cussin out yall lil baby sheep and... etc. etc. lol. my point is, in 6203 i felt more at home than i have ever felt in the 2 & a half years i've been on this campus & for that i cannot thank you enough. you all taught me that you don't have to play with the first kid that invites you to the sandbox, that if ever there was a time to be selective about who you choose to surround yourself with, college IS that place because people WILL assume things & lump you in with whoever you claim your friends to be. and for the first time, in a long time, i'm proud and humbled to be associated with BLACK WOMEN at baylor university. because heauxs can be so so so sooo triflin these days-- this we all know, so sadly this thing we have with each other is looked at as a miracle, as a feat of epic proportions as if we weren't created to love so yes, i am proud. proud to have succeeded in this-- or rather grateful and blessed that God has allowed me to be apart of something so... rare these days. he thought enough of me to surround me with women whose reputations do indeed precede them, his favor is amazing; the fact that he would give me you all to personify HIS love, to make that ish real to me??? it's crazy yo. so yes, i AM friends with dede, i AM friends with coco, i AM friends with muhfuggin mojo jojo! ... i don't consider myself to be friends with a lot of people. to me being a friend entails something much deeper than this kindergarten bull these kids at this school tryna pass off these days. so in an effort to be more specific we say family and that's who yall be. i effs wit a lot of people who think they know me, think i like them, think we friends but yall know good and well i hate everyone. most people i come in contact with on a daily basis i can actually live without. and of course that's no fault of their own, i'm just very low maintenance. it don't take all day to realize sunshine & i don't need all of everybody in my eye tryna make me feel important and gas me up. plus when you have too many friends, they be havin birthdays, they want gifts fuh holidays & shiii, ain't nobody got time for awwllllat! but i digress again lol i have my team, my squad. everybody else are just subs. & we all know subs ain't never good as first string. so thank you. for letting me see the heart of God in your eyes, hear His voice in your smiles and feel his love for me in your unique hospitality; i could not have made it had you all not let God use you as vessels for his work.
so this is for MY colored girls. who have ever questioned God's love-- His intentions, His directions, His presence-- but are realizing that His love... and Their love... is just. too. real.
OR "Popsicle Thug Love: installment two, End of Year Reflections: part one"!!!
so of course, me being the OD thinker that i am, this whole popsicle thugfest we had talked about has been on my mind a lot lately as i consider people's roles in my life & learn to separate the leaves from the roots & whatnot. & so consequently i've been thinking about you guys. #pause, #word to jerrid for preaching that in HV the other day. when he told us to stop & think about having another year of life, i immediately thought of you guys. because this time last year, someone i was sooo sure was a root in my life, proved that she was indeed a leaf. around this time last year i was learning a whirlwind of lessons, none of which felt particularly good-- i was learning how to be alone without being lonely because little did i know, God would soon break me from people that i wasn't aware weren't good for me. #sidenote-- spiritual and emotional growth can be THE absolute most painful growing pain ever in life lol anywho tho, he opened my eyes to sooo many things that everybody saw but me. but i digress. the biggest change between november 10, 2009 and november 10, 2010 is a change of scenery and surroundings. & that's where you harTlets come in. so fastforward to me writing poems about yall individually & thangs & God gave me the idea to address yall as a household first because of what just being in the place where you all dwell has done for me... because literally, 6203 has become a place of refuge for me. & i doubt you will ever understand the caliber of people you are & thus the type of environment you've created, not because your mind can't grasp it, but because i can't put into words what yall have done for me in the short time since we started kickin it heavy this summer. but, you people have called on me to try. & so, here goes:
metaphorically, 6203 is my sanctuary and our friendship is my religion. literally, the freedom i have there and the fact that any burden i may carry is nonexistent after i cross that threshold has been my salvation this semester. a lot of ppl get caught up in religion-- in services, masses, rituals, traditions-- so much so that they lose sight of the fact that all God wants is a relationship. with that being said, i literally feel closer to God when i'm with you all-- his most important commandment is to love & i have experienced nothing short of an outpouring of God's love through yall every time i'm in that house. when school and work and organizations and relationships and the weight of being a poet alone got too heavy for me, i found refuge in 6203. i'm taking 17 hours, working two jobs [I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE THISSSS!!!], puttin in work for a couple organizations, tryna figure out wth ima do with my life and who i'm gonna get to do it with-- that's a full plate lol but i literally feel weightless in yalls house. i know that there was many a time when there were things i woulda coulda probably shoulda been doin while i was kickin it with yall but... i could not miss the therapy and the relaxation in arguing and jumping around and effin shii up and cussin out yall lil baby sheep and... etc. etc. lol. my point is, in 6203 i felt more at home than i have ever felt in the 2 & a half years i've been on this campus & for that i cannot thank you enough. you all taught me that you don't have to play with the first kid that invites you to the sandbox, that if ever there was a time to be selective about who you choose to surround yourself with, college IS that place because people WILL assume things & lump you in with whoever you claim your friends to be. and for the first time, in a long time, i'm proud and humbled to be associated with BLACK WOMEN at baylor university. because heauxs can be so so so sooo triflin these days-- this we all know, so sadly this thing we have with each other is looked at as a miracle, as a feat of epic proportions as if we weren't created to love so yes, i am proud. proud to have succeeded in this-- or rather grateful and blessed that God has allowed me to be apart of something so... rare these days. he thought enough of me to surround me with women whose reputations do indeed precede them, his favor is amazing; the fact that he would give me you all to personify HIS love, to make that ish real to me??? it's crazy yo. so yes, i AM friends with dede, i AM friends with coco, i AM friends with muhfuggin mojo jojo! ... i don't consider myself to be friends with a lot of people. to me being a friend entails something much deeper than this kindergarten bull these kids at this school tryna pass off these days. so in an effort to be more specific we say family and that's who yall be. i effs wit a lot of people who think they know me, think i like them, think we friends but yall know good and well i hate everyone. most people i come in contact with on a daily basis i can actually live without. and of course that's no fault of their own, i'm just very low maintenance. it don't take all day to realize sunshine & i don't need all of everybody in my eye tryna make me feel important and gas me up. plus when you have too many friends, they be havin birthdays, they want gifts fuh holidays & shiii, ain't nobody got time for awwllllat! but i digress again lol i have my team, my squad. everybody else are just subs. & we all know subs ain't never good as first string. so thank you. for letting me see the heart of God in your eyes, hear His voice in your smiles and feel his love for me in your unique hospitality; i could not have made it had you all not let God use you as vessels for his work.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
love is for thugs-- #PopsicleThugLove 101 #ClassIsInSession
before we even start, the original title for this was:
black people do not love each other enough. black WOMEN do not love each other enough. we instinctively hate each other initially as a way to protect and validate ourselves when we were created to love. but thus is the de-evolution of the black woman and consequently black love altogether because socialization has changed our very nature to one that no longer nurtures. we are catty, we are evil, we are guarded. but when we love each other i swear it's the most beautiful thing. but between harsh words & side eye glances, many of us will never see this love.
luckily, i have. i have witnessed a love like an eternal electric current, an infinite transfer of energy unlike most friendships i've been in since i've been in college. this relationship i have with my current team... is not one of constant sacrifice & trial, of constant taking without reciprocity. this love we have loves like a circular definition, it loves redundantly, like synonyms, like burning kinetic energy. it loves like it's never been hurt. & truthfully, without those contrasting contrary "friendships" i don't know that i would be able to appreciate the ones that i have now as much as i do. these people that i have are FAMILY. so yes, cliches get played out, but only because they're true-- everything does happen for a reason & yes seemingly good things do fall apart so that better things can come together...
... & clearly i suck at trying to convey thoughts & feelings in a straight up nonpoetic way these days so maybe this will help understand how i love the ones i love & what it really means for me to do this:
"maybe it was not meant for me to love. but i do still. with reckless abandon i love just to spite the universe because defiance is the strongest motivation so i love to prove that i am capable. prove that i have a broken vessel human heart & not an energizer ironman apparatus, not indestructible but rather made for destruction-- it loves like helicopter blades fighting through arctic blizzards. like an iditarod race because winning is not synonymous with survival, winning is not coming out on top. winning is loving like your heart is made of cinderblock instead of paper mache, like it's a porcelain doll instead of a pinata, like love is holy matrimony worship between mother nature & father God not a lonely, pleading prayer in the garden of gethsemene. not a cross to bear-- i love like an elixir... like a balm in Gilead... "
"i am a daredevil lover. not an evil kanieval stuntman catapulting out of cannons through rings of fire, my heart loves like an aging indian man treading barefoot over hot coals slowly & deliberately like debussy's 'claire de lune' on a baby grand-- a perfectly pitched premature piano solo accompanied by no one... i give my heart straight-- no chaser. because eventually, the risk it takes to remain closed tightly in a bud begins to outweigh the risk it takes to bloom..." #wordup to miss keys-beatz
#ToBeContinued. sensual seduction for anyone who guessed that those chunks will most definitely be part of a poem one of these days. but i digress.
anywho. i love because it's the only way i could think of to show my appreciation for all that is done for me and in me. i don't have money, i'm not the cutest, i'm not the coolest. i don't have status or accolades. but i love like my heart IS an energizer ironman apparatus. i love like i am invincible. i love like the shirt off my back is yours. like whenever you call me i WILL be there, no cliche. like i'll carry your cross when its splinters rub your shoulders raw. i do not love by understanding or logic or because our lives make sense together. i love by being present. because, for me, love is time. is marathon conversations about money, sex, God & all of the below. is catching the itis & napping together. is running through apt complexes snatching up spare tires & goodie bags. love is government sponsored debauchery by night, fried bologna sammiches by day. & the fact that i just sung "oscar mayer has a way" to spell b o l o g n a lol love is attention deficit disorders & nothing is wrong with us. love is knowing that heauxs ain't people cuz #wordup to Aristotle.
love is not knowing how to properly close out a blog & deciding to just tell you that ima go get some cereal cuz the sun gone be up soon. so in conclusionary type ways, love is hoping this makes your day :)
#DickSlangPOW! #PuddittInyaMouf
"ramblings about love: why i love my friends & hate everyone else on some eff them other nigglets cuz... well, you know the rest- type ish."
but as you can see i changed it lol
so a good friend of mine told me she loved me today. ok well actually it was yesterday seeing as how it's runnin up on 5 a.m. now but anywho-- like out of nowhere she just hit me wit that 1-4-3 & for a brief moment in the taco bell line, we talked about love [cuz we'ont pass out in drive thru lines when it comes to grubbin round here!] ... what it is, & what it isn't, etc... & of course me being the OD thinker that i am, i really haven't been able to get the concept of love out of my mind/ out of my heart, since then... & so here i am with this random amalgamation of love ramblings in these here wee hours of sunday morning :)
black people do not love each other enough. black WOMEN do not love each other enough. we instinctively hate each other initially as a way to protect and validate ourselves when we were created to love. but thus is the de-evolution of the black woman and consequently black love altogether because socialization has changed our very nature to one that no longer nurtures. we are catty, we are evil, we are guarded. but when we love each other i swear it's the most beautiful thing. but between harsh words & side eye glances, many of us will never see this love.
luckily, i have. i have witnessed a love like an eternal electric current, an infinite transfer of energy unlike most friendships i've been in since i've been in college. this relationship i have with my current team... is not one of constant sacrifice & trial, of constant taking without reciprocity. this love we have loves like a circular definition, it loves redundantly, like synonyms, like burning kinetic energy. it loves like it's never been hurt. & truthfully, without those contrasting contrary "friendships" i don't know that i would be able to appreciate the ones that i have now as much as i do. these people that i have are FAMILY. so yes, cliches get played out, but only because they're true-- everything does happen for a reason & yes seemingly good things do fall apart so that better things can come together...
... & clearly i suck at trying to convey thoughts & feelings in a straight up nonpoetic way these days so maybe this will help understand how i love the ones i love & what it really means for me to do this:
first, a quote from the aforementioned love conversation--
"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this..."
so I love you because I know no other way than this..."
[[Pablo Neruda]]
hmm... selah... pause & reflect.
& now for my own words:
"i don't love often or easily. but when i do, i mortal kombat rip my heart from my chest inscribed with a suicide note of my own fingerprints & offer it to you to consume like tribes in 3rd world countries so that maybe you can taste the courage it took me to do so in the first place. i offer it beating feverishly out of its element, at the altar of your finicky affections in hopes that maybe mercy would be granted just this once & my sacrifice not be made in vain..." "maybe it was not meant for me to love. but i do still. with reckless abandon i love just to spite the universe because defiance is the strongest motivation so i love to prove that i am capable. prove that i have a broken vessel human heart & not an energizer ironman apparatus, not indestructible but rather made for destruction-- it loves like helicopter blades fighting through arctic blizzards. like an iditarod race because winning is not synonymous with survival, winning is not coming out on top. winning is loving like your heart is made of cinderblock instead of paper mache, like it's a porcelain doll instead of a pinata, like love is holy matrimony worship between mother nature & father God not a lonely, pleading prayer in the garden of gethsemene. not a cross to bear-- i love like an elixir... like a balm in Gilead... "
"i am a daredevil lover. not an evil kanieval stuntman catapulting out of cannons through rings of fire, my heart loves like an aging indian man treading barefoot over hot coals slowly & deliberately like debussy's 'claire de lune' on a baby grand-- a perfectly pitched premature piano solo accompanied by no one... i give my heart straight-- no chaser. because eventually, the risk it takes to remain closed tightly in a bud begins to outweigh the risk it takes to bloom..." #wordup to miss keys-beatz
#ToBeContinued. sensual seduction for anyone who guessed that those chunks will most definitely be part of a poem one of these days. but i digress.
anywho. i love because it's the only way i could think of to show my appreciation for all that is done for me and in me. i don't have money, i'm not the cutest, i'm not the coolest. i don't have status or accolades. but i love like my heart IS an energizer ironman apparatus. i love like i am invincible. i love like the shirt off my back is yours. like whenever you call me i WILL be there, no cliche. like i'll carry your cross when its splinters rub your shoulders raw. i do not love by understanding or logic or because our lives make sense together. i love by being present. because, for me, love is time. is marathon conversations about money, sex, God & all of the below. is catching the itis & napping together. is running through apt complexes snatching up spare tires & goodie bags. love is government sponsored debauchery by night, fried bologna sammiches by day. & the fact that i just sung "oscar mayer has a way" to spell b o l o g n a lol love is attention deficit disorders & nothing is wrong with us. love is knowing that heauxs ain't people cuz #wordup to Aristotle.
love is not knowing how to properly close out a blog & deciding to just tell you that ima go get some cereal cuz the sun gone be up soon. so in conclusionary type ways, love is hoping this makes your day :)
#DickSlangPOW! #PuddittInyaMouf
Thursday, August 26, 2010
30 minute poem i wrote for the homie cuz he messed up w/ his girl :(
ok so BACKDROP-- i wrote this literally just now in like... a half hour maybe-- a friend of mine messed up with his girl & wanted to give her something to show that he was sincerely sorry & so that's where i came in so! p.s. it's clearly from a man's point of view fyi.
30 minute freestyle-- #POW!
They say love goes both ways but—I’ve never really been good at crossing streets/ I mean I completely understand why chickens be so indecisive when crossing the road cuz there’s a real big difference between giving & reciprocity/ & maybe I’m just a little overwhelmed at this velocity/ with which we careen towards each other/ & sometimes I may slip & treat you just like any other/ but the fact that I’m apologizing hopefully shows that I could never find another lover/ sweeter than you/ & for that reason alone I promise to be sweeter to you/ I’m a man—we make mistakes but I refuse to make excuses/ & no matter what it takes I know that we can make it through this/ cuz all & all the truth is/ I’m done with the games/ & I try to avoid storms but for you, I’d walk through rain if it would mean that I could still claim you as mine/ & so tonight I wanna stop on a dime & repair whatever is broken in you & take responsibility/ because this wedge that I drove between us unintentionally is actually killing me so right now I apologize to you with every ounce of strength in me.
ASA poem version TWO-- performed at Mosaic Mixer
So you fancy huh??? You, you go to Baylor & you pay awwwlllat money & ya got ya live bears right across the street & you think you something huh kid???
Well newsflash baby, you ain’t NEHHTHIN in comparison to what ya ancestors did
See you traded THEIR chains for YOUR chains & have the nerve to thing the game dun changed
#YallAinthearinMe--
You traded THEIR chains for [[wrist]] YOUR chains & have the nerve to think you dun changed the whole entire game
Oh you fancy now-- but wait…
Hanging from a tree does not make you a monkey-- did you get that???
No matter whether or not you choose to behave like it, you are always and forever royalty.
It only lies dormant, sleeping under your skin
like volcanoes waiting to erupt with destructive new life, hibernating like sleeping bears waiting to roar again
Yes under YOUR skin—all shades of brown and ahh yesss its most precious hue! the rich plum brown, or chocolate some of us like to call it J -- resembling the deep velvet purple robes you used to wear
See, young sir, you are not dark as midnight blacks & blues, you are not a bruise—you’re a raisin in the sun… a dream deferred… & we are just waiting for you to explode like #static #defibrillator
CLEAR! #StartPulse
#PAUSE! Have you ever noticed Africa’s shaped kinda like a... broken heart?
#PLAY! See it used to pump strong & powerful the pulse of this world until yall got all sadity & otherworldly & forgot where you came from & so now your heads & your hearts are always conflicted, throwing off your equilibriums/ see you got a foot in the door & one leg in the grave, & in your hearts you’re still enslaved & so every time it beats, the blood of your ancestors flows up to your brain in an effort to resurrect ancient memories
I use photos as flash cards to stimulate your occipital lobe so that maybe I can trigger something bigger in you/ something bigger THAN you/ baby things aren’t always what they seem/ you live double lives see—slavery in the streets but kings & queens live in your dreams!
you are more than corner boys & baby mamas/ your women were once queens & your men were once fathers/ and so that pain in your chest & that ache in your heart is for us/ So that maybe you can remember us/ so that maybe you can remember YOU/
For example--#FunFact-- we women are bottom heavy for a reason-- we carry the weight of the world in our wombs…
#PAUSE! Now hold your finger there & flip over to Africa. Picture it. Garden of eden, 2010 years ago ehh give or take a few & #POW! This continent births the world’s first man & woman… & now the weight of the world rests in her womb—
& like Haiti, she lies in wait for the return of her prodigal sons & daughters but we’re too busy doin our dirt like a horse led to the pond that refuses to drink the water & so we remain unconsciously thirsty because our subconscious knows what our hearts are too stubborn to believe like this cliché bling don’t make you a king just like lace fronts & weaves don’t make you a queen like there’s a reason we have such an affinity for the finer things & like wisdom i stand in the market places & scream! For you. & my heart bleeds! For you.
& so I wrote this poem in hopes of starting a rumor in your hippocampus & maybe he’ll whisper a lil sumn sumn to ya parietal lobe that maybe navigates you back to me where you belong
but from the blank stare in your eyes I’m thinkin maybe I was wrong but… that’s okay…
because that dull ache of a displaced ancestry never really goes away…
& since from dust you came, it’s where you’re headed anyway I promise to GOD we WILL be reunited again, in this life or the next, some day.
Friday, August 20, 2010
ASA poem-- ORIGINAL/ ROUGH DRAFT VERSION
ok so this is the ORIGINAL as the title implies lol but i had to make it shorter to fit in ASA's time slot so i chopped & screwed it to make version DOS which is the note before this. but i really wanna combine the two-- with this beginning, same middle & ending of the other one.
WELCOME TO AFRICA—LAND OF THE KINGS SAFARI TOUR! WE HAVE ZEBRAS, WILDEBEAST, GIRAFFES, TIMON & PUMBAA & LOTS & LOTS OF [[MONKEYS]]!—*GASP! SHH… LOOK! OVA HE-UH WE HAVE A MAMA LIONESS & HUH BABY CUBS RESTING IN THE SHADE J …
WELCOME TO AFRICA—LAND OF THE KINGS SAFARI TOUR! WE HAVE ZEBRAS, WILDEBEAST, GIRAFFES, TIMON & PUMBAA & LOTS & LOTS OF [[MONKEYS]]!—*GASP! SHH… LOOK! OVA HE-UH WE HAVE A MAMA LIONESS & HUH BABY CUBS RESTING IN THE SHADE J …
hmm… is THIS what they really think of us???
Safari tours & loin cloths & aye aye aye aye aye #ShootsTranquilizer…
When did we demote ourselves from kings & queens to monkey court jesters??? when did we trade Ankara & native… for baggy slacks and burlap sacks, our native tongue for these broken obscenities, our homes & our families for the things of this world… see
We traded chains for chains & have the nerve to thing the game dun changed
#YallAinthearinMe--
We traded chains for [[wrist]] chains & have the nerve to think the game dun changed but wait…
Hanging from a tree does not make you a monkey [anymore than eating a banana makes you a nigga] do yall hear me???
No matter whether or not we chose to behave like it, we are always and forever royalty.
It only lies dormant, sleeping under our skin
like volcanoes waiting to erupt with destructive new life, hibernating like sleeping bears waiting to roar again
Yes under OUR skin—all shades of brown and ahh yesss its most precious hue! the rich plum brown, or chocolate some of us like to call it J -- resembling the deep velvet purple robes we used to wear
See, young sir, you are not dark as midnight blacks & blues, you are not a bruise—you’re a raisin in the sun… a dream deferred… & we are just waiting for you to explode like #static #defibrillator
CLEAR! #StartPulse
#PAUSE! Have you ever noticed Africa’s shaped kinda like a... broken heart?
See it used to pump strong & powerful the pulse of this world until we got all sadity & otherworldly & forgot where we came from & so now our heads & our hearts are always conflicted, throwing off our equilibriums/ we got a foot in the door & one leg in the grave, & in our hearts we are still enslaved & so every time it beats, the blood of our ancestors flows up to our brains in an effort to resurrect ancient memories
I use photos as flash cards to stimulate your occipital lobe so that maybe I can trigger something bigger in you/ something bigger THAN you/ baby things aren’t always what they seem/ we live double lives see—slavery in the streets but kings & queens live in our dreams!
See we are more than corner boys & baby mamas/ our women were once queens & our men were once fathers/ and so that pain in your chest & that ache in your heart is for us/ So that maybe you can remember us/ so that maybe you can remember YOU/
For example--#FunFact-- we women are bottom heavy for a reason-- we carry the weight of the world in our wombs…
#PAUSE! Now hold your finger there & flip over to Africa. Picture it. Garden of eden, 2010 years ago ehh give or take a few & #POW! This continent births the world’s first man & woman… & now the weight of the world rests in her womb—
& like Haiti, she lies in wait for the return of her prodigal sons & daughters but we’re too busy doin our dirt like a horse led to the pond that refuses to drink the water & so we remain unconsciously thirsty because our subconscious knows what our hearts are too stubborn to believe like this cliché bling don’t make you a king just like lace fronts & weaves don’t make you a queen like there’s a reason we have such an affinity for the finer things & like wisdom & stand in the market places & scream! For you. & my heart bleeds! For you.
& so I wrote this poem in hopes of starting a rumor in your hippocampus & maybe he’ll whisper a lil sumn sumn to ya parietal lobe that maybe navigates you back to me where you belong
So who am i?
Well they make me out to be some poverty stricken continent forsaken by God but, right now…
I’m just the ache of ancestry in your temporal lobe…
Trying to re-invigorate the pride of a displaced people in your heart…
Is that alriiight?/// or & I guess that’s the start #kanyeshrug
[[idk which to end it with just yet]]
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