I looked down the street.
the levees broke.
the water tore through me
like hands through tissue paper
pockets of air slipped through my sockets
the eyes spun 'round, my lips went blue
and then i flatlined, sunk into the undertow
drug through the pavement, the alley,
the paint chipped enslavement,
somebody pull me up god willing,
pull me up god willing
I don't want to die. God, put me back together,
I can walk, swear on high I can walk.
those eyes? I'll make do without
those lungs? I heard tubes are all the rage.
I don't want to die, put me back together.
I don't want to die, I don't want to.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
This is why.
I look to my left, then to my right. I shake off the hands flung wide open calling for the ball in the corner- backside help is on point today. I notice my defender sag back then jerk forward- a common mistake. A quick intake of air through my one working nostril, a flash of my eyes toward the corner, a jab step to disorient his positioning, lead with the right foot one quick penetration dribble- I rise for the shot. Exhale. The leather tugs against the nylon with rotational torque. My defenders posture slacks. He looks devastated. I look just as I did before I even touched the ball; poised.
That is why I succeed.
That is why I succeed.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
on repeat.
god willing, do you have a comment
dogma filling, went in sayin' ah fuckin bomb-it
saw him pull the trigger, dug into his chest
gimme play by play, does he know the rest
number 12 in the corner, not with a jumper
had a pipe and a shank his move be the slumper
grimey times like eighty-five,
AIDS n crack were thrive,
God was not alive, shit just didnt jive
call it what you will, fallin to the sill
window to the glass, bat connected with his pass
naw scratch it, 'twas the bridge,
that shit up in his mouth, right up wit tha whites
or was it wretched yellows, rotting in the nights?
dont gotta be a slave to be a slave
aint that the truth bruh?
rule number one, wince when the whip hits,
quick, as he blinks knock his noggin with a bat til its bone bits.
wait, switch it up, where the fuck is clinton?
fuckkk i was dreamin', we in bush still, they did the classic presi-switchin'
no rights, burn the fuckin paper, stress positions
classic word-smiths lingo for torture and the grossest since the jew killin' kitchens
what the fuck happened to god fearing christians?
this ain't peace, this is war wit a bible,
god hates fags, god hates dark skinned people... shit is like villanous disciples
whitey spikes a swastika rockin it like change in his pockets braw
let's get him in his lockin' jaw just like...
naw, let's switch it up, bring it to the heart
people got a soul, not to late to start
bring it with the L, not talkin the loss
I'm talkin the love with the up above boss
let's groove, to the swell king geedorah
mr Doom got me all fuckin sweet-on-ya
got a date on a hole in the wall, rock a hand hold a hug and a fade with the suede
life got a smile and a sunset, just a love make away from a life jones,
call it what you will but ima love til im in the dirt with nuttin but wood n bones
like...read into the truth, you'll find the honesty begs, questions and bemoans
speaking of the questions, when will i find you, who are you going as
love got many names; you got your fam, your bam, and your hot-god-damn
will i find you or will you chase me down like the uni's
will you rock the rosary, the cross or the kufi's?
gimme some perspective lord, bring it in and lose me
make me find you in the corner of a black n white movie.
dogma filling, went in sayin' ah fuckin bomb-it
saw him pull the trigger, dug into his chest
gimme play by play, does he know the rest
number 12 in the corner, not with a jumper
had a pipe and a shank his move be the slumper
grimey times like eighty-five,
AIDS n crack were thrive,
God was not alive, shit just didnt jive
call it what you will, fallin to the sill
window to the glass, bat connected with his pass
naw scratch it, 'twas the bridge,
that shit up in his mouth, right up wit tha whites
or was it wretched yellows, rotting in the nights?
dont gotta be a slave to be a slave
aint that the truth bruh?
rule number one, wince when the whip hits,
quick, as he blinks knock his noggin with a bat til its bone bits.
wait, switch it up, where the fuck is clinton?
fuckkk i was dreamin', we in bush still, they did the classic presi-switchin'
no rights, burn the fuckin paper, stress positions
classic word-smiths lingo for torture and the grossest since the jew killin' kitchens
what the fuck happened to god fearing christians?
this ain't peace, this is war wit a bible,
god hates fags, god hates dark skinned people... shit is like villanous disciples
whitey spikes a swastika rockin it like change in his pockets braw
let's get him in his lockin' jaw just like...
naw, let's switch it up, bring it to the heart
people got a soul, not to late to start
bring it with the L, not talkin the loss
I'm talkin the love with the up above boss
let's groove, to the swell king geedorah
mr Doom got me all fuckin sweet-on-ya
got a date on a hole in the wall, rock a hand hold a hug and a fade with the suede
life got a smile and a sunset, just a love make away from a life jones,
call it what you will but ima love til im in the dirt with nuttin but wood n bones
like...read into the truth, you'll find the honesty begs, questions and bemoans
speaking of the questions, when will i find you, who are you going as
love got many names; you got your fam, your bam, and your hot-god-damn
will i find you or will you chase me down like the uni's
will you rock the rosary, the cross or the kufi's?
gimme some perspective lord, bring it in and lose me
make me find you in the corner of a black n white movie.
MOS DEF for my man DP
ALBUM: THE NEW DANGER
The New Danger
ALBUM: BLACK ON BOTH SIDES
Black on Both Sides
ALBUM: TRUE MAGIC
True Magic
ALBUM: BLACKSTAR (MOS DEF N TALIB KWELI)
Black Star
DP, this is just a start.
The New Danger
ALBUM: BLACK ON BOTH SIDES
Black on Both Sides
ALBUM: TRUE MAGIC
True Magic
ALBUM: BLACKSTAR (MOS DEF N TALIB KWELI)
Black Star
DP, this is just a start.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
Post Racial My ASS.
You think America is no longer having race problems? Here's two white cops beating the living daylights out of a black 15 year old girl for nothing but flipping her shoe off into the direction of the cops. you can see that the shoe barely went anywhere and fell at the officers feet. The cops slammed her head into a concrete wall, held her down and punched her in the head, then handcuffed her and picked her up by her HAIR. Sorry folks, police brutality with a CLEAR view of racism is not over. People need to wake the FUCK UP. Racism is not over. Obama is president, but not because of a lack of racism. Remember all those that DIDN'T vote for him JUST because he WASNT white? Yeah, there were hundreds of thousands if not millions. Here's the video of the beatdown on the 15 year old girl. By the way, this happened in SEATTLE, not known for extreme racism. Just goes to show.
UPDATE: Apparently, the cops asked the girl to give them her shoes and apparently she was screaming "I'm not resisting" while getting beaten.
UPDATE: Apparently, the cops asked the girl to give them her shoes and apparently she was screaming "I'm not resisting" while getting beaten.
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