The other day I realized something.
I noticed a change in me.
And it was not new.
It had been a few years that
this new part of me had grown into me.
Like I had grown a new *******
or an extra sense of smell.
A sense of smell
that maybe only I and few
strange under sea creatures had.
I was not afraid of trouble any more.
Yes trouble.
I was not afraid of it.
Maybe just like Malcom X
stopped being afraid of it.
The white man’s system is the boogey man.
Trust me
I know.
I am it’s cheap free stolen pillaged ***** oil.
Without me that machine ain’t moving.
I am not proud of that.
We fought them as hard as we could-
cow hide to a bullet
kicked them out of Haiti
with bare knuckles
faced them down esandlwana.
Gave them a taste of a true humanist-
Sankara.
And we are not done yet
cause their yoke is still on our necks.


I always used to stay clear of it.
Trouble I mean.
That fear or call it a way
defined who I was.
And how weak I was to become,
Until now of course
I know tango with
Trouble.
Once I thought of trouble
as I scare about the night and it’s ghastly possibilities.
Then
one day
realizing how my fear of trouble
had broken me.
How flight has tripped me.
I got hold of a thought
and held it close to me
as if it was always mine.
Close like sweaty black arms to rusted steel of an ak47.
I got hold of that thought.
That close.
That thought was
**** trouble
I love trouble
Like I love the night sky that would not be as beautiful if it were not for the night.
Only when darkness visits us
do we only see the beauty of our stars.
With darkness
you learn to love
the little faint light
that shines only at night.
I love my night time cause i have learnt to see its beauty amidst my ruins.