a person died…inside of here
he could’ve been saved
but the responders…correctional officers
were slow of feet and care
taking the long way instead of through the grass
walking back to get the gurney instead of running
standing over him while waiting for a gurney
and then, finally then, they attempted CPR
maybe they assumed he was high
but they didn’t value his breath, nor his time
time which he had been paying for with his life
day in and day out, inside of prison
and as I watched from the moment he fell-
ghostly white-
to the time he was carted out
I thought about those themes
care
assumption
time
payment
and patience
so while you have been telling me…
urging us rather, to be patient
another inmate died
right before our eyes
no mourners or grievers
just back to business as usual
after all, we only have so much yard time in a day
6 hours at max, if you wanted to know
but also while we’ve been being patient
freedom has been lost
more people have came into prison, than released
paroles have been revoked
more have died at the hands of police brutality
and corrections negligence
opportunities have come and gone
and nothing has remotely changed
but I’m being good and patient
Trauma
Lead by the Knowing
I posed a question
then searched for my own solution
I could no longer depend on
what you possibly didn’t know
yet with confidence
spoke to me as the answer
I couldn’t become more lost
all because I followed you
without question
who may have been just as lost
What The Hell
I almost killed myself
blah blah, what the hell
I ain’t ask for no one’s help
blah blah, what the hell
I can do bad by myself
yah yah, what the hell
don’t wish me well, wish me farewell
you see my life a living hell
I’m trapped inside this cell
blah blah, what the hell
don’t know if my sons read my mail
yah yah, what the hell
I think my mom went back to jail
blah blah, what the hell
they wish me well
like they can’t see my life is hell!
I See You Mama
I see you mama
don’t be led astray by these deceitful people, nor let the distance mislead you mama
they judge when they see you, but I see a good heart haunted by demons and surrounding evil mama
people are as they judge, but don’t budge cuz you not evil mama
shhh, be peaceful mama
be resilient and let the spirit keep you mama
my heart is your temple until the day my name will build you a cathedral mama
let your karma be your armor mama
and let love arm ya mama
I know about trauma mama
it can make you a monster amongst mambas pythons and anacondas mama
I know how all the trauma you weather and weathered for better through whatever,
when most would have been conquered you acted unbothered with the strength of a father, despite the guilt on your conscience, you remained dauntless mama
in awe just watching how you topple all your problems and drama mama
I understood that your way of life is resilience under stressful situations and it impressed and imprinted on me so much that it became my name and mantra mama
but you gon make it
your struggles make you a saint, so your pain is sacred
so rise from out that basement
walk to the light and face it
because you are now armed like a bracelet
release yourself from those chains and hold strong to all your changes and your favorite savior and faith in your creator, despite pains craters, your belief is a cure and curator, just as your spirit defies your age making you ageless
go at the diversity of adversity with an equal passionate rage
as defiant as a lion crying or roaring through abhorrent torrents of torment and torture, imploring his aura, to take over the surrounding grounds and decor, as the jungles prevailing lord, its mane, like your hair, adding stories to his lore, his light shinning like prismed orbs, clawing and chewing through the gore, of hunting for more, embodied as prey, and as you pray, you are now all chance and opportunities predator
through all the bullshit, freedom and opportunity still taunts you like matadors
but even as you’re vulnerable you refuse to be torn into, split separated, and torn in two
because in these streets you graduated as a valedictorian, and don’t wish to take a moment back even in a dolor-ian
ma you’ve been forewarned, from your spawn born, and I’m imploring you, amongst everything swarming you
occupy your own universe you’ve mastered like a university
just enter into your adverse orpheum dorm or auditorium of abnormal emporiums taking it all in through your corneas
and be in awe and marvel
at all you mauled that tried to corner ya, all you seen, been through and accomplished with endorphins spiked like dorsal fins, you a shark in the sea, because like drake said, you’re in God form walking amongst immortal men, so remember that with each morning you’re yawning in
I was just a fetus
sometimes, I can almost remember the times, as if I was aware, conscious, and responsive to the expanse of my current memories of when you used to talk to me when I was inside of your stomach
you were only a young desperate alienated scared traumatized and hopeful woman
but throughout all you were going through, you stayed protective and prepared for what was coming
and you would say its OK baby, ‘we gon’ make it’
now I’m far from and outside of you
and the times have beaten you, trauma has still left its scars in a world that has alienated your strength and story, rendering you misunderstood and unappreciated to everyone else, as you are too proud to cry for help
when it’s what you do for others that has only made you feel like you had any semblance of worth in self, but now as a man, I’m whispering to you, we gon’ make it
we gon’ make it
we gon’ make it
ma! you gon make it!
and I know life has been the betrayed love that deceives and cheats on you, as you cater to a wounded heart that keeps on breakin and bleeding through
but ma! you gon’ make it!
I know the lows have the longest holds on you, and there’s no more reason for there to be struggles you have to shoulder through
you getting older and your passion may no longer smolder, as your bones begin to feel colder and your movements a bit slower, but I got a butterfly pictured inside my arm tucked like folder, and I see my Gemini butterfly fluttering to the sky
ingesting light like enzymes, serenaded by my rhymes
as I say, we gon make it
ma you gon make it
and I wish I could shield you, but I’m reminding you that I can feel you, and I know you needed to hear this in the worst way, so from your first son, like a happy birthday
but I just learned that possibly again this country and system failed you
I don’t even know what I can begin to tell you
I can’t call or email you
I’m in a cell that feels like a shell too
while learning of another one of your falls that they consider as fails and the only way that they rather help you
is to jail you
revocating your parole as there’s something deeper that ails you
while placing you in a cell, where you get to watch if they slide your mail through
it’s like watching you placed in a coffin as they hammer the last nail through
now where do I go from here?
hope and the promises I hear sound more like jokes, smoke and mirrors
it’s already hard to focus here
when the holes in here and the open ears, try to hold you here, and the road will veer, when you close and near, as atonement leers
bemoaning fears
thoughts roam the spheres like drones in air
swollen tears
no one cares
no sincere, person will take a second to phone you dear
tired
woman
speaking of gut feelings, I knew something was off, cuz I arised from your stomach…so I know what’s there
and you’re at your wit’s end
you couldn’t even correct one split end
even if you combed your hair
you’d have to cut it all off and start all over again
but how many restarts can you have in one existence, when problems seem like they never will end
many won’t, and one truly isn’t enough
but I see you mama, even as I’m tearing up
and I wish I could give you reasons to keep you from giving up
Depravity
You know why I am so uncomfortable?
Because I choose to care. You know
why I choose to care? Because
there is more than just me. Because
life is bigger than me. You know
why you don’t care enough? Because
it is in your immediate self-interest.
Because you have been trained not
taught, indoctrinated, not educated.
Because you believe ignorance is
bliss. Because it would chip away
at your privilege. Because there is
no financial incentive. Because you
detest discomfort. Because you
prefer illusions to reality. Because
you believe you are in control.
Because you believe control is
real. Because you believe power
is awarded to the worthy. Because
you believe the structure provides
all, as long as it is upheld, and
held up. So you play your part
and uphold the integrity of it.
A thing, has no integrity, nor virtues
morals and beliefs. A thing, has no
conception of dignity. So you
project your self-righteous beliefs
upon an idea that masquerades
as a structure. A foundation
to our society’s systems. This
system becomes flawless. When
fault is found, people substitute for
blame. The people who created
the systems are flawed, not the
systems themselves you say. Broad
strokes should only be applied to
people, not the flawless systems.
Unless the broad stroke is of success.
Your illusions of control power and comfort
are as temporary as the buildings that
apparently must burn in order for you to
finally admit, once seen with your own eyes
that there is a problem. But at that moment
the only problem admitted is the one you
identify with. The wrong problem, yet
the right one for you. It is the effect of
a cause, but it is not ‘your’ cause, so
you will confess to a problem that
made you feel uncomfortable. Because
it destroyed your delusionary belief
of control and power. Rendering you
vulnerable. Making you feel unsafe.
Because you feel uncomfortable.
Because you choose to care. But
what you care about is your self’s
interest. So yes it is a discomfort
from a ‘self’ care, not a human care.
It is a care of vanity. Not the care I
speak of, nor is it worthy of a complaint
of discomfort. Therefore our discomforts
are spawn of two worlds, though can be
explained the same. You choose to care…
about your life. This is your right. And I,
to your surprise, choose to care about my life
as well. And the way that your life affects
mine, and many others. Because the way
that your life is appraised above others.
Because the system makes you
comfortable, giving you the illusion
of control. A system you give the
authority of God. As to say, it is
omnipresent, omniscient, and
omnipotent. While it also mirrors
the virtues of your savior, in that it
is apparently blameless righteous
just and equal. And this makes me
feel unsafe and uncomfortable. Because
it makes you feel safe and comfortable.
This is why you say that you care, that
I could careless, and won’t do myself
the disservice and indignity of
believing you. And I am perfectly fine
making you uncomfortable. Because
I choose to care about my life, and
the selfless care in the humanity of all
oppressed peoples in the urban community
and all over the world. Malcolm X said,
it is not a Black problem. Nor is it a Minority
problem. It is a Human problem. It is a World
problem, not an American problem. Though
America perpetuates this most. And one
group of people can’t act as the power
oppressor and superiors on one hand. On the
other hand, voice grievance and be seen as
benevolent saviors most capable to fix
the problem while reaping advantageously
off the status comforts. The fact that your
discomfort stems from my desire to no
longer be uncomfortable is the very problem.
And until you stop trying to overly scrutinize
how demoralized people should fight, then
your comfort and opinion, are of the same
care me, as your care of me, compared to
your care of property and other acquired
possessions inherited attained and
maintained by your privilege. Therefore,
until we can echo, the desire feigned in the
battered traumatized and humiliated
words spoken by Rodney King, -a man
beaten by your structure’s illusion
of power and control- “Can we all just
get along?” Then while embodying the
pride, gusto, and excitement of a boxing
ring announcer’s words trumpeted from
belly deep. Introducing and illustrating a
carnal desire to see two worlds collide in a
display of will and might, to name a
last standing champion of the people
at bout’s end. Whom shall go on to be
paraded and believed in by all who
gathered to be won over. Just as the
ring announcer screams, “Let’s Get Ready
To Ruuuuuummmmbbbbbbllllleeeeee!”
I echo his sentiments and say, “Let’s Get
Ready To Stay Uncomfoooorrtttabbbblleee!”
At least until you are more ready to begin
caring about more than yourselves, while
woofing hallow words of support from your
clean and comfortable distances. Because
as people, it takes effort to survive. But as
people, should not take effort to be humane.
It should not take effort to care. That is an
issue of humanity, of care. Care should
be just as comfortable as your inauthentic
care has been. So wherever there is
depravity of care, there is a depravity
of humanity. Therefore we are all depraved
I Know You Are, but What Am I?
everybody is crazy
but I am insane
everybody is chaos
but I am bedlam
everybody gets angry
but I’m unhinged
everybody is redeemable
but I’m a felon
everybody is something
but I am something else
and since you’re so self righteous
I look like I’m the only one in need of help