To Thy Hood be true

To thy hood be true

I grew up next to

Graffiti art

Or as they call it vandalism

Grandma would whip up some Soulfood

Had the grape kool aid with the fried chicken

Little bit of watermelon

Or as they say diabetes

Martin Luther King parades

I wish i could stay all day but then the bullets fly

I earned the title of hoodlum from young

Before the definition could settle in my young mind

Goons we would call one another

All black brothers and sisters alongside latins

Barely seen white

Unless it was on a Tv screen then we would try to find shows

Where we wouldn't have to scream “RUNNNNNN” because he's not acting black

Or at least one where he doesn't die

Because they’re usually was only one black character who would barely appear little to no lines

They say to thy ownself be true

How can one be true when thy own self is unloved

In church they hang pictures of a white savior yet we would critically acclaim his hair was wool

They hate my culture yet pick and choose what to take and claim as their own savoring every taste of soul food they can get their hands on

Will splatter paint on a canvas and call it art

Yet when we take spray cans and tag a building and call it art they are quick to call vandalism or nigerty

Quick to put on white robes and claim the death of a black was rightful

It could happen in my own hood and i wouldn't even have the story full

But a news anchor will arrive hours later and you feel educated enough to give your 2 cents

Hearing the voices of negro spirituals never satisfies hearing the pain and suffering in the tone of an individual who knows what it's like to feel oppressed

It's hard to say Black don't crack and raise a fist

Knowing that many nights you balled your eyes out grandma's prayers

And mommas intuitions

Get you through another day

If i asked the Lord how many times they would utter don't let him end up a fend, or in a grave give him an education and may your angels show us better days

I sit and have conversations with other black youths and see that they families is all the same

Grandma's prayers, mama's intuition, pile a stack of food so high to enjoy a meal with in mind this might be the last so before you leave grandma gotta make sure no matter what go down we all alright

Cause Black cracks every night we just can only bend when we step outside

Boys Premonitions Vs Mommas prayers

I may see a penitentiary

Before i get a G.E.D

High school diploma seems farther and farther the nearer the years

Can't stand reaching in my pockets and being flat broke

Gave up the weed so i feel the hurt

No sedatives to numb this hole i feel inside

Line little ones up and make them say a pledge they don't even comprehend

Don't tell them that the constitution was written for white land owning Americans

The melanin in my skin makes me bubble in African

They don't want Loud mouth Black folks to educated

Because to be conscious is to see the traps the crooked system left for thee

So they tell us to glorify woman with short skirts

And if a brother step to us put him in a hearse

Make our heros people with Gold chains and grills yelling get your money up or leave the hood

Instead of to build and lift up unity

They speak on segregation

Instead of moving your momma out the hood why don't you make the hood a better place for those who don't have that opportunity to.

Enemies In arms

Blood soaked in the land

Natives and Blacks

Rest in peace often said by the masses

Yet we contradict their sacrifices with there actions

Hanged for trying to get a proper education yet we still lack the sight to see knowledge is power

We rip and tear at our own communities

The difference between man and God

Is that we see black on white

Black on black

White on white, etc.

All the i am sees is ken on ken

Brother against sister

Brother on brother

The all seeing eye sees nothing but flesh and blood we make the discriminations and distinguishes

So until there is true peace

This pen will bleed

My heart constantly aches

We lack the sight to see that just because the complexion aint the same don't make him no different then me

Late night Line

I turn on the news night line and watch

Cop crimes

Look out the window and see mine against mine

Not to long ago i also believed that it was a war on racial affairs

Told me white was the oppressor from young

So the lighter the complexion the greater my distain

Hate in my lines

Blackening my veins

Sympathy meant nothing to me

Empathy was never given

My feelings was rooted to deep for me to see past the lessons of the streets

Book knowledge and Street truths and experiences has enlightened me

The books taught me to be edicate

To put away my Bandanna i wear so proudly and aspire for blue collared things

The streets taught me not to believe the textbooks and the white robed hypocrites

Who constantly try to pull the wool over our eyes

Taking in both philosophies and seeing the world in multiple views

From a suit and tie as well as a bandanna Loud mouth Weed smoking rude negro with Attitude

to an activist who now is institutionalized by the teaching of Mandela, and Bob Marley and the prophets hoping my truths maybe industrialized .

Parable of two Fathers

The innocent and the Bloody handed will both pay for the sins of the few

Our children and our children's children will grow up in crooked systems

That will forever cease to exist

Because fathers will not raise their fists

There are those whom will fight for their families

And those whom will not for their families

One is dieing for them to have a better life

but in death the mother will have to fight to make rent and the son/daughter

But his dream is for them to seek opportunities he was never able to reach

The other Father stays silent opposed to raising his voice and wearing his bandanna proudly

in hopes of change but doing nothing really

He lives under the system and abides by their rules and regulations

He provides for his family and stays by them

Both men at one point were indeed on the same road

but when received the news that a ken was on the way both took stands

One bowed and Lived the other now lays six feet deep with no shame for his sacrifice and many others

Change may one day arise

Cant seem to get a grip

I have stared into an abyss

And peeking back at me was death

Ever since ive pondered on the fact of my mere mortality

That this man made facade will one day be over

And I will be face to face with eternity

None but one was righteous

For that one had to die so that we could all be saved

Henceforth i put myself last and others first

So the did vice versa

Seeing my kindness as weakness

But i did it not for them but for he who enables me

For within the abyss there is darkness all around

This we all see

Then i look closer and the flames arised

My soul shook as the rigor mortis kicked in

For that was my destiny yet also alongside that was a light

A pure thing that illuminated the darkness the light was slim but the fire was wide

There was two roads one broad the fire

And one narrow the light

Do not be self decieved and follow the false light for only flames is what lies ahead

The narrow way is one of perseverance and truth

Not all find it

But i pray i can stumble through

The second Lamb

Lord If there's another sacrifice that must be made for them to aspire fore peace May the last whip be lashed at me Put a bullet through the heart of a child and say it's 2017 Yet i'm still seeing problems of 1899 I only speak because one day I will have a Ken So as a man i wanna get the world ready for him My pops taught me that there's a time and place to speak Well then how can I sit back and keep my mouth shut while these glorified unrighteous prophets speak on smashing woman and getting money There are problems beyond a block Can they not see the mainstream got yawl thinking that the only.way to be put on is from spitting about unpolitcal things Got the youth acting up And some.parents ain't grown up Age don't make a man Actions determine that And i aint seen one in a minute It's lonely be one of the few people's who see it We taking for granted things others would die for on this planet As if blessings wasn't from God himself Lord tell me are we really so selfish And can my voice aspire change If i just raise my voice instead of a fist Which way does true peace exist

8

The cracks and crevasses of this pavement haunt me Everyone one has there story Dried up crimson stains on the floor From long ago but a mother's pain endures everyday I ain't going to act so righteous And that night i probably would've also taken a life But luckily for me my situation wasn't so complexed I have self control for the time being Mostly because I couldn't comprehend the Subliminal And the jokes they made in the light Yet my heart wasn't so dark to truly comprehend to the degree they meant I can no longer say that because now I am well aware 9.

Motherland My skin is as black as the soil that i was birthed from Africa I have read about you Adam and eve was the beginning of mankind Yet the end of our Physical connection with God I hear East of Eden screaming Ohhhhh I mean hissing Serpent your words of poetry cannot entice me Forbidden fruit so juicy and sweet yet I find a way to luster up Strength and say Get away from me Lucy I don't get my pleasures from physical only the spiritual So your seeds of fear, lust, greed, and immortality Won't seduce me I want to go back to the Motherland I am only present with you momma when I am on my knees speaking to an all knowing being Abba Father I think of you and all I can see is a tree cascading over the land the fruits you bear So sweet but then when America came a new fruit was hung from your branches A strange fruit indeed Pain in your roots I feel your pain Years and years of oppression from your children You do not exclude the lighter skinned even though they do not reassemble you So to Americans it is black on black white on white crime But to you a mother it is ken on ken Son on son Your heart bleeds shattered from these things Never have i been there in the physical yet I see you Zion in the mind Miles away yet I feel you The reason I scream, I raise my fist, I will not forget you For you are within me You are within all beings from the ground you birthed us the melanin in my skin is nothing but your birth pigment I wear it proudly yet for it some shun me You Ohh motherland I long await to arrive My soul cries out I know not the language my tongue utters sometimes But sometimes I sing not words but melodies and a wave rushes over me Kunta kite for some reason hearing the name gives me strength You call upon those who believe and can see that oppression is not an option They say hell knows no wrath like a woman scorned and Momma you are bent Not broken because black don't crack You send me Dreams of whips then chains, the boats with slaves Then white on white crime then black on black All I see is black Then you scream awaking me from my dream Then you.sing to me melodies me ears cannot comprehend Yet my soul moves And my eyes tear for none of your ken remember you none have remembered your will Well i have and will try to stand on podiums such as Martin Will of King Kunta Perseverance of Mandela I will now assume the role that you also assigned to them If America murder me Ohhhh mother land I fear you will have no one else to Speak of holding hands and speaking hymns America the great don't look to great to me Born on this pavement but my complexion will and knowledge is a gift from Abba Father and the Motherland

A Ghetto Heaven

They say there are pearly white gates and roads of Gold Well tell me Lord is there a place for me and my boys to sit and play some Domino's Or a little hop scotch drawn in the roads for the little black boys and girls Tell me can we wear white hoodies Oppose to white robes God i aint asking for much is just the hood is all I know Sagging pants and gats I ain't trying to have all that But tell me Father is there a little place on the side for the improper folks such as myself I'm sorry that I don't speak as well as the other angels do Or that my favorite album wasn't gospel But to pimp a butterfly had me feeling the spiritual Or when he dropped heart part 4 uttering that I ain't sanctified enough to say that I won't shoot you Does that make me a immoral and unworthy to bask in heavens glory Will you send the hell hounds to come and negledt my works that I claimed in your name I know all men are conceived out of sin But tell me Lord can I be more than a mere mortal man Tell me am I not good enough because I eat fried chicken Sip grape kool aid With some watermelon God i know you got Manna but will there be soul food in heaven Yes God i do feed my soul on your wisdom and words Even though I'm a black boy Why they always portrait Christ as white tell me Yeshua Is there a corner store in the great up above I'm in a greater uproar then 9/11 Conspiracy theory that a goverment wasn't looking out for us One nation divided up at one another's throats There is no we only i and I comes first to the greedy The richer the rich the poorer the poor Watching the middle class degrade and this pen bleed More words that my mouth can't utter Because you have given me a gift A ready scribe with a pen But tell me God i must know I've heard there is 3 heavens But in one just one is there Music for my black soul The type that makes me wanna step and do my little dance Where I kick up my feet and just jive Or will it all be calm and hold hands and sing hymns Will there be a place for my black, African jive, hood, ghetto, ratchet behind To just sit and play Domino's with a bottle of gin in my hands As the young ones play hop scotch Can a thug truly find peace in the all above If someone come at my Kens throat am I wrong if i have a 47 On the wait to light it up like it's cristmas Cause it says thou shalt not kill But a man is to take care of his household I don't want to slaughter but God i cant stand aside and watch the site of death hover my daughter So tell me am I unworthy of heaven Because I prefer hoodies over robes Or because I speak with a little slang And my pants sagg Or is it because The hood that conceived me wear Gold on there teeth Yes we lack humbleness But humility we was taught is for the weak So being meek I got to put in work and try and reprogram what I was taught from the womb Will probably work on it till i lie in the tomb Cursed from birth cause they never showed a picture of a ghetto black infront of white gates Lord forgive my insolence and ignorant But I gotta ask is there a heaven for the ghetto kids Or are we cursed to hell and doomed since we popped out the womb Because I prefer white hoodies over white robes Lord don't be deaf to when thugs cry That much I pray be patient with us

We are the plugs

One thing that I learned for sure by being a black man

Wasn't to duck cops

Or to be hood

Or that grandma could make a plate so great

Make a family that is segregated

come begging like Dogs when the master was offering table scraps

Those came natural like the melanin

the thing i learned was that black aint supposed to show its cracks

all i see

is humanoids engulfed by TV screens

The audio laughter drowns out the screams

But when they do hear they pull out there digital and upload the pixels to social media

Anti social economy

aint it ironic the social device has given birth to an oxymoron

the exact thing that it was to oppose

to get in touch with those far

yet know we cant reach those next to us

Help me they scream drowning in the ocean of screams

aint no help in this world of Social media

As i sit in my self induced coma

not wanting to be apart of this world

i stare yet you dont even notice my intense glares

then a thought occurred

if we were in a coma

and someone came to visit

but their battery was on two percent

and the only outlet was the on keeping me alive

Would they pull the plug

loosing global connection

or loosing human interactions

that is the question

Human interactions are becoming extinct

are we obsolete

Broken Goods

Soul sister

Why do you look for a mister

Who can't ever seem to get the picture

He was so focused on your figure

You wanted to build your house on rock but he was sand

Man he don't listen but every dog is looking for a bone

and they all have their day

But for good old men like me

Girls broken hearted like you leave us waiting in the wind

And ask where are all the good men now a days

Woke????

Just because you raise your hand

With your fist firmly clinched

Doesn't make you an activist

Wearing a bandana don't make you a thug and or hood

And saying F the government doesn't make you a government

Are you really Woke???