It's MLK day,
do not let it go to waste
as we remember

12:17 PM
18/1/21

Frustration I can understand,
Devastation I cannot bear,
King saw the promised land,
In the dream that we all share.
Tear that falls or persevere,
Across the land of ‘opportunity’,
Where do we go from here?
Chaos or community?
We sat through hate in Woolies,
Walked past Birmingham’s barks,
Rose a people ravished in slavery,
Yet in this stand tarnish Parks.
Voices are clearer than crackles of fire,
Change must be built peace by peace,
Though I know the situation is dire,
One must show beauty to tame the beast.
We will never see the coming of the lord,
Through the suffocating smoke, of the horde.

Heard powerful words move men to
action
“Hail ******”
Millions of innocent souls lost deaths
so hideous
ironically
there are no words to describe

“I have a Dream”
50,000 Americans march onto their
capital to claim the God given right
to be equal.
The same words
Moving through time
staying strong
to where 30 years later
a small white girl
3rd grade
in rural Kansas
echos those same words
in a report on how the world ought
to be

I have seen great words
lost and alone
Concealed beneath pages
Stacked on lined walls
Masters who have manipulated
even the most minute syllable
to affect how you feel, learn, believe.
Vaporized to the literary abyss of the
library Knowledge untapped
Mute wisemen.

Last words
spoken
Desperate to sum up a life in one
B—R—E—A—T—H
what to say......?
what to say......?
One last, “Tell my, fill in the blank, I
love them.”

Or cheaters who manufacture
manuscripts
to be read at their own funerals
pre-written, pre-thought-out ovations
of pathetic lives in an attempt to give
them worth. Sadly, still trying to fool
others by sounding spontaneous
extemporaneous
Even after their heart STOPS

Another prophet who got his top knocked off,
this system’s toxic thought we’d found hope but lost it,
Nipsey Hussle shot down outside his clothing store Marathon,
live and die in LA grow up only to get shot down on Slauson in Compton,

and the irony is that he was taken out,
in the same neighborhood he had invested in,
from Proud2Pay to AfroTech Nip was a Community Activist,
in a system of force fed poisons he was medicine,

and maybe that’s why he was martyred,
just like MLK Tupac and Marley,
this is all real life in living color,
life’s not a Game but this is The Documentary,

every word true,

I mean do you,
think it’s just a coincidence,
that Nip was murdered when,
it was announced he was about to come out with a film,

about Dr. Sebi,
the herbalist,
who was also possibly murdered when,
he went public with claims of curing AIDS and other illnesses,

nothing random about this act of violence,
it makes so much sense when you think about it,
nothing senseless in the message,
I mean seriously think about it,

MLK shot on 4/4 at 39,
NIP shot on 3/31 at age 33,
why do the most violent things happen,
to the brothers that preach the most peace,

it all makes sense everything adds up,
but most will probably dismiss this just as another conspiracy,
I mean I guess it doesn’t matter ‘cause nothing will bring Cuz back,
RIP NIP Rest in Peace Nipsey another brother gone to young at 33,

and it’s all so eery it’s creepy,
all the above evidence plus,
“Having enemies is a blessing.”,
was his last tweet,

as the words of his last sound sit in my ears as they ring,

“**** I wish my n!gga Fats was here,
how’d you die at 30 somethin’ after bangin’ all them years,
Grammy nominated in the sauna shedding tears,
all this money power fame and I can’t make you reappear.”…

RIP NIP

∆ LaLux ∆

LA 2019

While the mother crow cries
over the dead bodies
of her children
the doves fly away
as if the murdering of crows
is not any kind of crime

as the doves
see evil
hear evil
protect evil

The crows heart
a constant target
of the doves violence

Who's next?
Whose name is destined for hashtags and ******
how many lives
will it take
before the hate
and fear
in the doves heart
bleeds out

The deadline of
the life of a crow
is drawn by the jeweled crown
of loathing the dove wears
on its head
and the fear inside
the loaded gun
of the doves eye
and the hate beating
wildly beneath its wings
and blindly in its heart

Hope is a heavy burden
under the pounding
blood red sky

Where the doves
practice ******
more often than
they protect the peace

As the oath has changed
to protect and serve
their own kind

and lady justice
has been blinded
by a white wash
of white lies

And the murdering of crows
goes on...
and on...
and on...

While the living
can wait their turn
to be murdered
and crucified
and martyred
on the next hashtag

while serving their time
from inside the freedom
they have behind the bars
of the cage of poverty
and there is always
more room for another
and another
and another
inside the skin
of the prison cell life
they were born in

The crow is suspected guilty
until pronounced dead

and its innocence
is nothing the doves
cannot beat out of it
even after it is already dead

as the color
of the doves guilt
is judged to be
more pure than
a corpse with
a crows dead heart
no matter the weight
of its innocence

and the murdering of crows
goes on...

and on...

and on...

While the feathers
of the doves wing
spread out sharp like knives
with a seemingly
bottomless hunger
for the heart of the crows

and we lower the body
of another martyr
into the earth
how much longer
will we allow
the murders of crows
to walk free
as if the murdering of crows
is not a crime

the doves can bury
the body of a crow
after crow
(one after another and another)
but never their songs
never their names
never their hearts
and the dead will speak
for the living
as long as the living
never forget the dead

one day the crows
  are going to rise up
over the black asphalt
  city skyline

singing into the
  blood red sky
   hearts crowned
    with fire and hope

flying high and free
   flying over
     the mountain tops

singing of the
   promised land

singing for the dead
   but not forgotten

singing words
  of flame
    and poetry

singing for
   freedom
     and unity

carrying the weight of hope
and hope is a heavy burden
we all must carry into tomorrow
and tomorrow
or tomorrow will never
be better than today
we must always lift our dreams
with love and hope
and one day may we find
our way over the mountain top
and into the land of promise
where birds of every feather
are free to fly in a sky
without violence
and fear
and hate
where tomorrow is a river
flowing into a better today

winners and women won’t quit on the person that made them who they are,
who drove the get-away car,
you, me
three days post Martin’s birthday
“darkness cannot drive out darkness;
only light can do that”
raised fist,
raised middle fingers
stained all my white shirts,
burned all my flags
surrender is not an option,
honesty guiding me,
carved my name everywhere i’ve been,
everywhere i will go

In the midst of uncertainty for tomorrow or even today, there's a confidence and courage found within that forces us to win.
-
This grind. This grit. This goal-oriented, goal-achieving, gift-cultivating, courageous and confident, bold, brave spirit, comes from a place of hope, and that hope being for change.

Change in legacy. Change in living conditions. Change in action and behavior. Change in habits. Change in mentality and in spirituality. Change in income. Change in social class. Change in education. Change in self. Change in others. Change in opportunity. Change in setting up the next generation to surpass the successors of our own. Change in heart, mind, and soul. Change in health and in wealth. Change in attitude and gratitude. Change in generosity and prosperity. Change in how we treat our neighbor. Change in love. Change in life.