Sunday, March 8, 2015

Red Black Green

Your people stand as we greet them
We sit as they rest
Never understanding the lessons we teach them
Yet putting us through the damn test

We laugh, we cry, we joke, we smile
All at the drop of a hat
We smoke, we drink, we starve, we die
All at the crack of our necks

You great people, you great nation
Rise to regain your crown
For the mutants are restless and running a muck
So it's time for the aboriginals to shut them down!


Moving through the forest
trying to find the trees
I'm searching for the other part of you
in the other part of me

Jailhouse conditions
with Kushite dreams
I'm looking for you
but I have yet to find me

In Broadway kisses
and Hollywood scenes
There is no you
because there is no me

Akan sunlight
with a Maasai breeze
the GOD in you
has found the GOD in me

The Original Man

Are you done?
  When the protests are over
   and the marches no more
   when "Black Power" reduces to rhetoric
   and there are no wars
Are you done?
   When the cameras are gone
   and the media is silent
   when your friends have left you
    hanging in the balance
Are you done?
   Bitter backs on bitter Blacks
   from stealing internal organs
   from Kendrick to Lacks
Are you done?
   Emancipation proclamations
   and guerilla warfare liberations
   with East African children
   dying from starvation.
Are you done?
   West Papuan annihilation
    capitalistic organizations
    Hip-Hop degradations with
    mass incarcerations
Are you done?
   Great Kushite pyramids
    fighting off unscrupulous Assyrians
    From Hannibal protecting his lineage
    to Shakur protecting the indigenous
We WEREN'T done...because we are STILL HERE!

Conversing amongst the Pyramids

From myself I birth myself
But wait, could this be true?
For I have came before you seven times
Yet you are me and I am you

You guide my daily life
You are my daily presence
In you, I continue on
But in me, you seek residence


I bathe in your rays
of everlasting life
I maintain my sustenance
with your strong light
Every morning as I wake
I'm renewed again
For I've been blessed
with this perfect melanin
And for that, I have no end.

The Black Hole

As I sit on the curb
With my hands behind my back
I look up to see that
my wicked enemy's strapped

With militarized weapons,
combat tanks galore
Sent me to flashbacks
of the Persian Gulf War.

But wait, flash forward to
the drink I just poured
Way before this mutant
kicked in my front door

Guns drawn, dogs barking
I was under attack
Doing nothing but waiting
on grandpop to get back

But wait, hold up
Could this happen to me
College educated and
I got a professional degree

Then it hit me
"Son, you ain't nothing that them degrees said
this system profits off you in prison
or with some metal through ya head."

Cold body, heart quiet
being the victim ain't enough
Until you're a suspect of your own murder
after only one puff

They hate our hair
They hate our lips
They hate that we can destroy their race
without any use of a clip

Think about it
we ruled the world for over 10,000 years
Yet our history has been
tarnished, altered, and smeared.

From Ausar, Auset, Heru
to Sundiata
We created everything
from universities to martial arts katas

So, I stand up to take off
my own cuffs
Because the fear in him
is the strength in US

Tuesday, December 31, 2013


A girl got pregnant today...
 Not a lady, not a tramp
 Not a grown woman on food stamps but a child

I wonder to myself,
"Why this young one, so tender, so mild?"
Then it hits me:
  like whips to slaves,
  we live in a new age
  where promiscuous sex is moral
  and waking up to a person whose
  last name is unknown is the new normal

Is it the drugs and alcohol on T.V?
The degradation of black families?
Or maybe the gang wars prevalent in the streets?

See, when you live in a concrete jungle
  where dreams and aspirations are only mumbled
   and police sirens are amplified
   while people step over bodies as if their landmines
    straight suicide----are these conditions.

Her pregnancy isn't by chance or some cockamamie happenstance
  but this is nurtured.
Her mother never showed love to her and her mother's mother never spoke loving words to her
  so where the hell is she supposed to learn to love?

Novels say love's a fantasy
  bringing frankincense and myrrh presented by a king
While the television purports buffoonery,
  menage-a-trios in the clubs until 2 or 3
  but it all starts with the family

The deconstruction of the family structure
  leads to mothers and fathers' relationship rupture
  replaced by baby mama and "favas" mustered
  all from a systematic plan to destroy a culture
  This is cultured---with a cult-herd
    these sheeple are buying into their folk-LURE!

Now, back to this pregnancy,
  in which, she's been touched since the age of three
  her step-father suffers from slavery's PTSD
Now, he's on the run
  the collective's suicidal gun:
  Another single, black mother
  raising her STEP/SON