Convex curvature, female caricature
In the shiny polished upper side resides my reflection
Up left, roses would strive
To derive right ***** from the
Unparsimonious point of inflection

And what inflection! Phrasing inflected
Sings songs well affected
By the erratic gliding
Of ******* chiding
The inopportune haste of
Her lover

I, graced, sit down in bemusement:
For nor does she bring just a
Knickknack's amusement
Nor do I lug
A source of apologies
Instead our duality slates
Juxtaposition
As the most redundant of tautologies.

if you cant see something inside of you that's worth fighting fore
then get a better mirror.
Because something inside of you wouldn't let you go
No you held on threw all the names and the hits that society labeled you with
You held fast to your life because who were they to tell you that you don't matter
Who are they to say those things to you
When you have no mom to go home to, no dad to pick you up
When what you turn to at only fifteen is liquor ad drugs
who are they to tell you to get over it
Sticks and stones brake bones don't tell me it hurts worse than a broken heart
don't tell me that when I go to sleep at night I might not wake up
Because if I wont wake up with a smile on my face what's the point
when I have to ask myself before I even open up my eyes is simply what will I get called today
What's the point
My definition of beauty is Mom
Because she is raising three kids, and she knows how it feels
No I cant hide that from her no matter how well I hide from kids at school, no matter how still I try to be.
No my mother see's.
When asked if I want to die, I stay silent
Because silence s the only thing that wont bake a heart
Now...
as other are going to sleep
we stay up, because when they close their eyes for a moment we dot have to run
Ask me again why I wont die
why don't I just back down?
Because My definition of Beauty is Mom
Because to many of us have been cast out like a knickknack on a shelf
because I wont lose my memory..no
I will not go silently

If I ever become famous
I want to tell you

The Oakland that raised me
has changed

Its spirit is still the same
but
its body
its composition
-or at least the parts I knew-
are irrevocably different
from what I knew

The house that my grandmother lived in

for over 30 years

was fashioned to four bedroom
800k
two-story cottage
never mind the generations worth we had their already

Something similar happened to the homes my aunts lived in
Something similar happened to the homes my friend’s aunts lived in

The once cozy and comfy street corners in the
Black Neighborhood
began to be filled with **** attics asking for food and money
pulling fat bloated dogs behind them.

The once cozy comfy street corners in the
Black Neighborhood
that use to be outposts for Muslims selling newspapers and bean pies
turned to base settlements for those in need that had the cleverest sign

They tell me now that I’m from

“Old Oakland”

The smells from the Granny Goose and Mother’s cookie’s factories
still fills Stonehearst’s playground when I dream that of a time gone by


Old Oaklanders Remember

When you could hop on the bus and get a hotlink from Flints
We Remember taking the BART to the colosseum station and seeing
Our Mural
on hallowed ground.
Panthers, Politicians, and everyday People
Reflecting Us
By Us

That’s gone now

Across the street is the
New Mural
on capitalist ground
Patriotic Propaganda
Reflecting someone miles away
By someone that’s just getting paid

There is even a shuttle that takes you directly to the airport now
No more interacting with the locals

Old Oaklanders Remember

When Raiders moved to LA
We welcomed them back
Now they are moving to LV
Its an Oakland thing
you wouldn’t understand


The New Oakland wants to Fight The Old Oakland
Its want to take Laney away
(a small part it says)
and build
The New A’s Stadium

The Small Part it wants isn’t Big enough
to do the new thing they want to do
Us Old Oaklanders know how this goes
the small little part
for the new little thing
gets bigger and bigger until all

The Old is Gone


If I ever become famous
I want to tell you

The place that manufactured the mold of my making is under new management
Even the surrounding areas have transformed


Downtown Berkley once had a cornucopia of bookstores with blocks of one another
Crystal and smoke shops
mom and pop knickknack shops that sold real Ethiopian coffee
40 year old pen shops
30 year old record shops

All gone

They have restaurants now

The strip of Telegraph or University where you could once see
Rockers with 8 inch spiky green Mohawks
Getting high with
Burnt out hippies
and Keeping the peace and spreading the love with
North Oakland Generals

has all been replaced

Conservative A type international students studying
STEM or accounting and finance that all
“hate it here”
But want to make a lot of money
and will when they are done
and will make more when they build their empire back home

That is the Downtown Berkeley you see.

If I ever become famous
and someone goes looking about the places where my feet traveled
and the body of my youth laid
I want to tell you

You wont find it

“Old Oakland”

Only exists in the hearts of the Old Oaklanders
Living in parts far and wide

They have even stopped calling North Oakland
North Oakland

Now its

Temescal,
Some far reach of Emeryville
or even a direction of Berkeley

but its not
Its Oakland

And it will always be Oakland




© Christopher F. Brown 2017