No matter the tune
I want to dance with you.
Cause I’ve grooved alone,
and I just wind up at home.
So, take the lead,
no matter the flips or the tricks
I know I’m safe in your flow.
Because when our hearts beat as one,
I know I am alive and a son.
When The Father asks you to dance
Ties that bind are not easily broken.
What did you inherit in your bloodline?
For the fruit is a product of the vine.
We are the consequences of words spoken.
Our Ancestors sin is not forgotten,
planting seeds that grew into bitter wine.
They may have passed but we still pay the fines.
Their silence left us nothing but tokens.
The curses may last four generations,
but the blessings endure for a thousand.
We want to leave a good inheritance.
Elders to fight we need your confessions.
To dig and allow the cycle to end,
in order to give the next ones a chance.
What are things ? that you got honest from your family tree? the bigger the tree the deeper the roots
The streets are bare as
the cherry blossoms still bloom.
Life will carry on.
A walk in the woods
will still be enjoyable,
while six feet apart.
Slow down and observe
the beat of nature, for it
is good for the soul.
Three Haikus I wrote because I was inspired during these crazy times
Chains of my own design
kept me from the divine.
Two good legs I was given
with wings to touch heaven,
but my mind made shackles
added weights to ankles.
With awesome wings I crawled,
so lost I forgot I’m called.
I added other’s chains
to bury my own pain,
but I wasn’t okay
mind gave heart no say.
Back to where I soared past
these distractions don’t last,
I wanted my freedom
struggle left me bleedin’;
even though I held the key
fear kept me from being free.
No way to cross the goal line,
forced to admit I’m not fine.
My past mistakes forgiven,
I gave myself permission
to let the chains unravel,
so I prepare to travel.
My progress no longer stalled
I remember that I am called.
Chains given to the one who reigns,
who was with me in the pain,
so I take it day by day
my mind is given less sway.
Where I belong at long last,
my resolve is now steadfast.
I am free in the kingdom
to remember mom’s wisdom,
don’t worry I can be carefree
fear can’t keep me. I am free
No longer in a prison of my own making I am back on track
They ask, why care so much?
Simple, my ancestors blood and bones
are the foundation of this nation.
But that isn't your blood or mine?
We have come a long way!
True but broken chains
don't free us from shackles,
and half measures
can’t get us across the finish line.
If you hate it so much leave!
In case you missed point one
I'd much rather fix what's broken.
I want to make sure that the stacked deck
is reshuffled. That kids don't have to grow up
in war zones, where the only way out is debt
or a casket. Where people don’t get to profit
from the very thing that took others freedom.
I want a playing field that all can use,
where the rules make sense and the enforcers
are kind. Where I'm not the oddity
for never having been behind bars.
That people realize that there's more
to our culture than our bars.
I'm over the 40 acres
I want 24 Oscar's. Maybe then I'll see
myself on more than just ESPN and MTV.
Others have it far worse than you!
Well then let's elevate them too.
A rising tide raises all ships.
So let's create a flood that washes
out the hate. When will people realize
that we aren't enemies. That the system
crushing you is already destroying me.
If they can put people in cages for where
they were born then Eastside or south
of the border are just bad hands we are dealt.
I don’t know how to fix it
but I care too much to be quiet.
So thanks for reading my thoughts,
but will you stay silent?
My raw feelings this Juneteenth 2019
I am not Wakandian.
I wish I could look at a map and say
there that’s where my people came from.
Save money, board a plane, fly
to my ancestral home, and see what made me.
But Africa is a big place
and I’m not Kenyan, Nigerian or Ethiopian.
I have no claims to their past
and no right to their future.
All I know is I have some melanin, ***** hair,
and the knowledge that my ancestors blood and bones
set the foundation for a nation
that hasn’t made its mind up about me.
So sometimes I wonder what if my ancestors
had survived sugar fields instead of cotton.
Faced whips on the islands, instead of the south.
Would I then feel at home because I could look and know.
Or would that leave me emptier since here is still not there
and a claim to there would make me less here.
I guess until I figure this out I’ll take a made-up country
to be my made-up heritage
I am Wakandian
So as black history comes to a close and i feel the blackest i have ever been. yet i am faced with more questions than answers
I have run through snow
and heat before the cherry
blossoms have fallen
a haiku for the heat wave