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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
“You wanna go to the crystal shop with me?
  Maybe some coffee?”

First things we said

Buying matching bullhorns
for later


I’ll show you how to wrap sage
leaves
You can show me how to build
a fire

Lucky
Blessed
Charmed
Happy

We didn’t have to wait
long


We’ll make a pact


We’ll promise to grow old
Side by side
We know we’re already
Dead

This was the first time
We understood


Oui



© Christopher F. Brown 2017
I’ve met my soulmate
A few times now

- Maybe more-

Only in this life time though


I met him once in his past life
He spoke Portuguese
I only thought in Kiswahili  

Once I met him when I realized
Past and future lives are really just extensions of the one you live
presently

Once

-a few really-
Which cause me more sorrow than anything
Not at all the confusion past and negative everyone elses said I should have

He was a she

Because of my soulmate
I learned that,

“Love at first sight”

Is just a literary device

Because of my soulmate
I learned that,

“Happily Every After”

Only exist in the land of make believe.


© Christopher F. Brown 2017
That feeling you get

when you wake up to rain in the middle of June.


You can get rid of the people that make feel this way but

You cant stop the rain
You could move but be serious


There will always come a day when

When you wake up to rain in the middle of June


Smile hard
be the sun


© Christopher F. Brown 2017
I get it now
They think I'm you

Black
Is only the color of your skin

Black
Is not the culture you love
The people you associate with
The people you share a bed with
The people you represent

Black
Is only your name
Is only where you come from
Is what you claim around family

Black is you
Long as you are the only one
Long as-if there could be such a thing-the best one
Long as you are in charge of the rest

I am Black because Americans don't understand
An African born outside of Africa is still an African

I am Black
I am African
I love the reflection I see because it sees me

Truth be told:
I still love you
Even if you hate everything that stares back at you


© Christopher F. Brown 2017
Trump ******* us all
but did he really?

The South followed suit on its promise
Yet the heartland had a change

We would like to say:
“He doesn’t represent America.”
But doesn’t he?

Profit above all is the capitalist credo

Racism: to divide the people and keep them disorganized
Sexism: to divide the people and keep them disorganized
Xenophobia: to divide the people and keep them disorganized

Hasn’t that always been the American way
Keep the neighbors distracted with one another
Keep the neighbors fighting one another
While you rob them blind
And their children
And their children’s children
And . . .

Trump speaks
For those that see government only as a tool for furthering business

Trump speaks
For those that were born into a position of privilege
For those that find it offensive when their privilege is pointed out
For those that can construct legalese so their privilege can never be denied

Trump speaks
For those that believe something determined by genetic or socio/politico/economico construction
Not effort of their own
Imbues them with divine right
Imbues them with heaven’s mantel
Imbues them with a destiny that is their burden to make manifest

Trump ******* us all
Trump doesn’t speak for America

Historically
Morally

Doesn’t he?

© Christopher F. Brown 2017
The only thing they are worried about is their reflection
Who cares if they're dead or dying inside

ab shot for the gram
*** shot for the snap chat
**** pic for the dm’s

Some of them
have gotten to the place where
Their selfie
is their self

The only thing they are worried about is their reflection
Who cares if they're dead or dying inside

I could be hypocritical and say im not there
but then
how would I know it exists
You find your way
The way does not find you

*** shots on the Time Line
full nudes on tumblr
live shows on connectpal

The only thing they are worried about is their reflection
Who cares if they're dead or dying inside


© Christopher F. Brown 2016
Shouting
In places where people try to force them
Not to hear

Quiet
In places where people try to force them
Not to listen

**** them
Set them free
Watch them fly wild

They are indigo, X, and Y
They are naturally Tech savvy and more intune with all that is natural
They are everything but what they know they want to be

**** them
Set them free
Watch them fly wild

Love

Love has never been one of their considerations
They have never bothered with the fantasy
They were born knowing
Grew tall and mighty watching

No one ever loves a genius child

**** them
Set them free
Watch them fly wild.


© Christopher F. Brown 2016
Sometimes we just want to hold it
because it warms us

we can't decide
it might be bad for us
When the air's whispers are warm and the moon refuses to entertain

we can't decide
it might be good for us
When the wind carries chills and the sun searches for its shadow

we take it
into ourselves
knowing the potential harm
wanting the promised help

Sometimes we just want to hold it
because it warms us

©Christopher F. Brown 2016
I was wondering if
is there anyone in your life telling you
you are beautiful
you are ****
you are intelligent

I wont be cliché and say all those things
even though I want to
even though I just did

I was wondering if
is there a person in your life to voice
these spirits
say these words
speak these truths about your existence

My schedule is quite flexible if the position is available

I’ll probably never say the previous to you

You don’t need
someone to flatter and praise you
the truth is its own keeper
Just as the sun does not need shade

still

There is the moon.



© Christopher F. Brown 2016
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