Song Poem

Suga’ Happens…

Drunk every night, freshman yr., like snooki

That’s a simile I believe, good looking

Out

Yeahhh…

See you later alligator

Yeah, I took a pause

Suga’ just happens, get it cracking

There’s no room for flaws

Well pardon me,

I guess I'm misplaced out of this ideology

Cause what I believe to be sane as well as morally engrained

In the essence of our being           

Maybe voidness, like Buddhist teaching.

Whatever the case, it’s a race

Survival of the fittest

Aye yo Father Time, can you tell

Baby New Year to bear witness

Cause it’s a new age of rebirth

Another Renaissance of some sorts

Suga’ just happens

Best believe, it is present

Baring gifts of the worst possible satisfaction.

Music blaring in my phones, monster beats printed

Black like the identity I presumed and was politically given

I don’t mind though I like it

In the sense that I must admit that

There must be a gene engraved in my DNA

Its so hard to explain so I’ll break it down, even skip foreplay

Speaking from a stereotypical given,

Lessons of American living,

A dream only achieved whilst one’s sleepin’,

Borderline acceptingly called, myself African American.

Wheeww, another one

Back to the meaning of the truth of which we come

From a life in which we struggle, then it always comes down to one

To start a Revolution, or maybe not that extreme in all cases

For example, Harriet T maybe the coolest woman I could ever known existed

Conducted a movement, disguised it as a railroad

Light posts guided the way as safe points

With hidden tolls,

This story could never get old.

Wake up and breathe,

Take a second and look around

Read your history

Yeah, it just got personal

Like I just had a moment, lost in time

Tears drop for the fallin’ souls

Shall you reach true happiness, real talk.

Black people need to take a stand

Because with struggle comes success

Cause it takes a hard worker, simple comparative as that

To achieve greatness in a world of the racially oppressed

And one would think MLK teachings…

Pardon the brief introduction

Would have been instilled in our hearts instead of movies and booklets

We praise him, Malcolm X, and we can’t forget Miss Rosa

Pocket full of dreams, they had rallies like sold out stadium concerts

Spreading music, old-school tunes, remixed by my time’s musicians

And this melody should float off the vibrations instead of getting lost in translation

Their message left the minds of our youth

Leaving them in despair, oh what’s the use?

I guess we didn’t take the latter

Made what we call the “White Man’s” pocket fatter

Black people we exploit ourselves like we lost all hope, a change a comin’

I hope

But I digress, suga’ happens daily

That’s why my mind can’t seem to stop going crazy

In a good way,

All the bad teaches me and makes me enlightened

I feel more connected to my feelings and my surroundings

Letting people know when I’m not vibein’ their speech, lip

Gotta have the last word, then dip, just avoiding conflict 

A step in developing consciousness

But suga’ happens, we’re prevented

Limited and ignorantly oblivious,

Of the actions that we've taken,

To leave us dependent on the “enemy” turning our backs on our brothers and sisters

Who cares if the N-word comes up

Don’t respond if you know that’s not you

Bully’s feed off of control and abuse

So lets stop internalizing ideologies,

And combat the real problems, words are just mirages

Who will lead us to finally take a stand?

No words spoken, in this present time, when? 

picture: http://www.indiatalkies.com/2011/08/pak-leaders-talk-state-oppression-home-swept-carpet.html

Creation Story

The Performer and His Friend

Where do you come from? Don’t tell me your ethnicity and I do not want to know your race. The nation in which you were born does not interest me. Can you convey what I’m trying to say? Maybe not. We are just projections of one universal body. Kind of like a light spectrum. Speaking of light, doesn’t it come in many colors? And wouldn’t you say that ‘yeah this is blue and yeah this is red, no difference its still Crayola’? Hmmm….so if we are all just sitting chillin’ out in sold out seats because we were all chosen and our tickets were free. And the one performing for us only performed once before. In a time when fairytale life was real, when life was carefree. In a time where good always triumphs over evil and everyone lives happier ever after. But wait. People die in these fairytales, how can death ever seem good.

He first arrived with a song and people started catching on. But he noticed that there was one who didn’t sway to the beat or move to the drums. Whose ears would bleed whenever the song played, couldn’t escape the sound. Underground he went. Set up shop, how homey. But soon he realized times were getting too lonely. Could it be that the performer and he met before all this started. They were buds sharing hugs, nothing competed with their friendship. But the performer wanted more. He aspired to be great. And He realized ‘why not have an audience and perform on a stage’.

I’ll be all knowing and I’ll be all being. Knowledge of my presence is a must be, along with loyalty and unity. As long as they follow me I’ll be true to thee. Hmm…where do I start? Let me think of something bright how bout I start with a spark and a counterpart for when the bright turns into dark. Kind of cliché its okay, ouhhhh how bout something wet. Let me mix some oxygen and hydrogen together and see what I get. What a color, how bout another maybe something more solid. I’ll paint it green with some trees that would get them enlightened. I’ll put creatures in the green and blue, land and ocean respectively.

But over a time communication started to wane. The reason behind this blew by never stopping to pay, close attention to the performer on stage. His mic blew out and now his followers looking away. His friend offered a comforting hand. Saying that nothing is always really all that you plan. If it were me I’ll give up all these foolish games and concentrate on the friendship that we’ve made.  He agreed for a while until He had another thought. And yes He knew that this decision would break his friends heart. But what is a performer without a sound so He started to sneak around and constructed what we consider today our inner self. Humans they would be called made of natural resources. And for the sake of argument, He created male and female subjects.

His friend was not blind and he noticed the performer spending time in the studio recording a different type of chime. ‘No this couldn’t be’, he said. Fool me twice shame on you. You just wait till your back is turned and I’ll make my move. The performer, though lacking stealth, never faltered from His friendship and saved a seat front and center for him in the audience. Seat noted however the friend wasn’t very grateful because, he felt always vacant and never part of the scene. So one day while the performer was taking a nap, because tinkering always did something to his lower back. The friend took this time to unleash his plan. To turn the audience against their number one fan. Middle of the stage he spoke persuasively…

TBC