We are naturally wary of different
Our anticipatory
Participation in fear
Blinds us from the signs
That classification
Of the population
Fuels separation
In our great nation
And the degradation
Of our education
Through miscommunication
Due to deprivation
Of alleviation
As far as the segregation
Taking its formation
In our imagination?
These bounds we set
To set us apart
Take hold in heart
Because we impart
The notion of racism
Through our pride
Proud to be black
Proud to be white
Proud to be
Whatever it is that is me.
I’m sure it is right
Though I did not choose
No I wasn’t trusted with choice
I wasn’t given an option
No opinion to voice
I came as I am
I came as man
With no color in mind
Nor hate in heart
A patch of untrodden
Still smoothed soft snowflakes
Unscathed by the treads
Of worn down soles.
No limits exist
To whom
They were never shown
Never taught
Through words or by deed
Never separated
Through race or creed
Disparity through diversification
Norms forming cult cultures
Secluded islands of identifiers
Imprisoned in our tradition
Caught up in the familial familiarity
Of being a drop in a raincloud
Growing heavier each summer day
Until the burden bursts
Out in thunderous roar.
And yet the race will remain
Runners at their mark
Pushing to get ahead of the pack
Forgetting there is no finish-line
Since it was never a race at all.

There aren’t beings, just bodies.
Just skin
and parts to be conscientiously coded
as we are packed into boxes
like commodified corpses.
Carcasses eroded. When will we learn?

Can we still learn?
Learn to look at all beyond the body.
Or are we doomed to linger, these living corpses?
Oh, if only we had greying skin,
broken out of wooden boxes
and, in doing so, break into the Code.

**** the Code!
Yet, no mind is bold enough to learn.
To unpack brains overflowing with long forgotten boxes.
After all, it is your body.
In the end, it is your skin.
And it’s you who dwells in this corpse.

But please, oh please, do not pity the corpses!
Empty shells enslaved only by a code
of laws as pliable as skin.
And despite lessons past, they never learn
to take hold of horns hitched upon the bull’s body.
But, instead, cower and corrode in the comfort of an illusory box.

A cadaver’s box
fashioned by corpses.
Bodies led by bodies
no more fit than the next to conjure an unquestionable code.
But they never learn.
Where is the sanity beneath that skin


so telling? The different skins
in color-coded boxes
with the definition of difference never truly learned.
There are only corpses.
Existing encoded
as senseless, sightless, and soul-less bodies.

Let us skin the corpses!
Trade the boxed remains for lessons learned:
The mind and the soul, beyond the body. We are the Code.

Being African American nowadays is difficult. Especially for those of us that don't succumb to the status quo. The way were portrayed in the media circus does nothing but hinder any progress of civil rights my ancestors have fought so long and hard to build; while also providing a stronger foothold for racial stereotypes. In my city, people see me as a ******, ****, player, or whatever else they may have heard about me. But I promise you this; the majority of the information they were provided with is more than likely false. I am simply an evil and spiritual being trying to adapt to a world that I cannot comprehend. It's not that I don't understand it, it's that everything about it seems so wrong.

A blue green marble
Suspended in black
Darkness
Enfolding the
Blue green
Though the
Darkness
Surrounds it
It does not
Compare to
the darkness
Within
Just below
the surface
Of the clouds
A race
Of evolved
Animals
That think
They've come so far
But hasn't really
Your seven deadly
And three deciding
Control over their
Power and hearts
Innocence
Never lasts long
Of twists and
Of harsh words
Their minds
Are easily
Bent our of shape
Born different
Wired unusually
Acts out
Strange behavior
Mad
Crazy
Genius
Insane
Labels they call
Those who are
                                 Different
There's a darkness
That surrounds that
World
But on it
Are more
Horrors than
What surrounds it

Blessed African child
Get your thoughts scrutinized
Seep the way of the Noble-man
Why remain a green-horn?
Blow off son! Get heard like a ship's horn

Plan to dig if you've sown.
Whatever springs and blooms like the bud
Only got caressed like nature's own
Lace every minute fearfully
Pull stars from the skies
You may need a lamp through life's path.

Days whispering secrets yet untold
Skirts and trousers madly deaf.
Ears stuffed with lust and can't hear
Wouldn't arrest wise counsel whilst it paroled
playing wan-na-bes in frail hopes of success
Wake up, redirect your dream compass

Chase crazily after your true being
'tis sweeter than sowing white oats
And better than any pas-de-deux.
Dive in deep like the great bluebill
Trade time wisely o blessed African
Time's spilling out, do much now you can.

Don't walk on my side of the street,
we do not want to see your feet
pounding down on this sidewalk.
We feel no need to  mix or talk.

Here are the rules that we send,
if you're not like us you're no friend.
So take this threat and do not stray
or with your life you'll surely pay.

We want our race line to stay pure,
we're happier when you are fewer.
So die you ******* do us a favour
for we don't like your cultures flavour.

These thoughts have always been in mind,
our message passed from kind to kind.
Children taught how they should hate
and never enter in debate.

We're happy just the way we are,
with bullets from a drive bye car.
Machine guns we can lock and load
Dead bodies lying in the road.

Why would we ever want alteration
and mix with lesser denomination.
We keep the streets clean as we sieve
sooner than integrate we would grieve.

It makes good sense that's what we learn
and then pass on when it's our turn.
Our children we do educate
and their forbears they emulate.

And on and on and on and on
and through this course so many gone.
They die because they cross a road,
or move out from their postal code.

We **** because he looks at her,
they die 'cause they decide to care.
Rather to **** them than to alter
we choose instead to maim and slaughter.

This is it, it's what you do
to those who do not look like you.
We must step forward and be brave,
and if they mix they choose the grave.

We are there to teach and show
for without this no-one would know.
Cultures they would amalgamate
then we would have no cause to hate.

We always run
On the chain of desire
As the last person
At the end of the line
It's easy to give up
Make your run stop
No one will notice
Everyone's ahead
But we somehow stay
Though it's the hardest
To stay behind
And keep what we have
But we somehow hope
That what we're running
Is worth aiming for

Art knows no racial borders
Nor any ethnic boundaries
It doesn’t give two *****
About gender lines
Or ****** borders
Art bleeds and blends
From the deepest darkest ravines in the south
To the highest and whitest tundras of the north
It ***** with love in all of his most tender corners
And with all of her naughty spots
It flows from one gender to the next
Intermingling leaves us tingling
With the mystery and majesty of life

I am angry over all the things you can't makeup to me.
You hurled words through worlds of tinted windows and dying girls.
Lives where black men cried and wives tried to mend shattered eyes.
You promised all this love to my little boy - a place where he can sit and still be a man.
But you lost me long ago when you whispered goodnight
When you danced your white hand through the air
Promised change in the name of equality
Marched through the streets for our fallen love.
But here we are lost and late to our own sins.

You are black; we put you through that white school so you won’t be a stereotype; but I hate it out here; they’re expecting me to be this and do that but that’s not me; you can be whoever you want; I want to be grey; great black leaders and their followers struggled so you won’t have to; but what’s a leader if he isn’t reluctant; they had the support of thousands and all i have is you; you always have God; have faith and he’s there; I lost my faith long ago; I am just a number, and when I end, I will be forgotten like half my family and the war that kept them there; as much as I differ from myself, I am still the same as you; I am who I want to be not what old people want me to be; I just want to be treated caucasian; I try to move on but B.E.T. and Worldstar drags me back.; call me a Jaden but a culture as complex ours confuses me, so treat me caucasian; pure as a fresh start, I won't get any glares if I walk by a gated community; i also love being black; the music I listen to could only be black; never let anybody tell you how to feel, but that’s childish; what I think will make people see me as different but if I was caucasian, i could say what I want; be your own human is only something yeezy could have taught me; what I think now could only be temporary just like the vapor; I just want fit in the box you offer because my ideas I carry are irrational, obscure and should not escape from me; I could say what I want now but it’ll cost me my life later; I love being black: we all have a past to fill twenty million books but no one wants to check it out; I love being grey; stupid dumb teen with nothing good to say; I love being white; my words have enough meaning to have a writer to ask me for words; I see and have every future I could imagine yet I have no future; I'm not a gangster, I don't play basketball so what do I do?; I can be better than myself and I really mean that; I am the Internet with all of its weirdness but I am black; the good posture and the way I greet you is caucasion; what makes me what I am?; the person I want to be isn't what the world needs; like the open road all possibilities are endless and I'm taking all the backroads on my skateboard; free as if I'm on air but that won't last; man the world keeps me confined without telling me the charges; no, no, no, no, they can't feel what I feel; why? why? why? why?; I remember when I was important, that I was a friend; now I'm just a minority that was just imported; I am vapor; as temporary as I am, I will leave no trace of my existence; I am just another number in some census; if being black means having life without you then I am just a figure of pigmented cells; someday I'll mean something; someday I'll be something; the door is there and I'm opening before opportunity knocks; I am just a piece of paper that shows I am competent; 12 years of school and what else is there for me; I am annoying without saying a word and I can move you by just living; only if you know what I think; black is the Africa I don't want to know; there is nothing there for me or any where; just a ***** or am I a person?; the water is tasteless but has a mountain of favors as a caucasion; I don't know; its cold outside and I don't know what to wear; the world is cold; full of life and still desolate; the world is black but is best experienced if you're colorblind; the world is cold and all this ice leaves me blinded; people give me a topic that limits me; fenced in my own jail cell; laughed at for your amusement; put me down for your enjoyment; leave me alone; I want to go home, no ones there to guide me home; school isn't what I thought it would be; life isn't as good as I thought it would be; leave me alone; leave me be; I don't need but I want human interaction; I don't know; I only know how to be black; it doesn't matter what I know; better if you decide; better if you choose; I am black and I am wrong; I am black and as temporary as vapor; my idea black isn't your idea white but you sure think so; you can be proud but hate yourself; no one taught me that; I wasn't brainwashed; I saw a better world being grey that treats each other white and makes culture like black; that's cool; oh but like I don't say anything and all of this has no meaning; that's cool; I am quiet and I have no voice; I have an i.d. but I have no identity; my name isn't copyrighted so what's so special; I wish to pitch myself to the world again but as my voice shakes, so does their heads; I am only human let me make mistakes; being black is one of them I guess; yeah I could pilot your ideals; I could follow your plan but what is my purpose?; I contradict myself and I have no point; such a waste that is; such; a; waste; you have no value to us and as your employer, I terminate you; ha!; that get rids of that peon; yeah he was just dead weight; good call! hahahaha; they're **** ups but they're right; what's next for me?