hold back the word

Sometimes when my head is pulsating and it feels like I’m finna swoon, when my mouth is dried up ‘cause all the ears that are supposed to hear my voice are deaf, when I feel like the only souls that will feel me are those who are yet unborn, that’s when an apparition mounts my heart and all I can do is write. Only then can I release this emotional constipation and let my tears soak the page.

all that i can say…

We only had one choice when it was said and done because there was a higher power that wrote the script. 400kya destiny was manifested in big bang, star busts nut all over infinity. And we seek to understand infinity in such a small amount of time. An average life span, 70 years to be exact, or 33 years for the negro manchild. Time is short. We can only wait, and believe that it will all come together in a single instant. In this life or the next. A moment that we cannot plan nor prepare for.

What keeps us going in any direction? It must be the SOURCE that we orbit. Attracting us to love with a gravitational pull. Keeping us moving in circles. Perpetrating the same miserable loop that is inexorably tied to cycles of life and death. We think that we propel ourselves. So do the planets. In reality, we are pushed and pulled by the force that governs the universe. We are propelled by principles. We must stay true to our principles.

paid homage

Do we think we can show the way
when we don’t know the way?
What the stories say?
That in the older days
Spirits bred from combustion of a star.
It must a been big star
Cuz look at who you are:
Spirits and Genes.
A lot to imagine from a star
So we thought that it must be a man.
It can’t be a woman
It must be a man.
We had to take a stand.
Imagined that he speaks with a real deep voice.
We had to make a choice,
For the younger ones
So we could provide for em.
We told them the language that he spoke.
Of course he must have spoke what we spoke,
the dialect of folk.
He couldn’t be a slave man,
had to be a master,
That spoke through the velvet tongue of a pastor.
He had no wives
But he did have a tribe of sons.
The only mother he could find
for his sons was a uptight broad.
It couldn’t be a goddess
had to be a broad
that obeyed the law,
live by the sword,
sharecropping on the land that’s owned by the lord.