crippled comedy

let it be about black
then it will be about skin.
let them in
we've let them in
and let them speak
colored words, then repeat
hidden intentions
with unsolvable conundrums
and jokes that are worth
no more than the time spent
debating their validity.

stop ... think
let it sink
in ... racial?
too late
already deemed
socially acceptable.
too late
to become angered
offended and belligerent
and if we do
we will
let it be about black
then it will be about skin.

this label

the center
of nothing
can be found
when there is no
home to call
place
but a place
replacing the
home wished to be
known

absent minded
culturally deprived
and hopelessly hopeful
to fill that void

not that being
what there is to be
is wrong

such history it holds
revolution and the King Dr.
shackles to houses of white
pages of stories
never lived just
heard

instead
come home
to a mother who
has lived through too
much to tell
to a father
you know
nothing of
and they know
nothing of
they land they seek
as we are
seeking
to find
where we belong
beyond this label
they call black

shifting words to vocals (30/30)

retype then reread
and correct
peruse
peruse
then compile

how each locution
presents solution
to everything
all desired
and
all possessed

my rhetorical
fancy,
written libido
and literal affair
used to be
unfaithful to
my vocals

hypothetically
of course

because they will
soon be both
my close
confidants
the written
will become
lyrical

once each one
is emended
completed
and erased of
uncertainty

finals week (29/30)

if you don't know
this stuff
by now you won't

hoping wishing wanting
to go home
and stay there

but instead we
have to cram and push
to relearn
like what Chicago
streets do to
young girls

never seen this campus
more dead in my
4 months here

why i finally opened my psychology book (28/30)

didn't mean to make this
less than you wanted it
to be

we didn't think much,
much we were though

(a guy's mentality
then became mine,
little did you know
it was a girl's
all along)

don't act like you didn't want it.

Excuse?
Instinct.
Proof?
page 406
1st paragraph:
automatic involuntary behavior.

Theory:explanation for motivation
in humans (and animals).

A proven fact.
so you can leave

look...
lets not make this a scene
or more than what I want it
to be.

another day here (27/30)

woke up at 8
to find
no purpose

a full plate
hot breakfast
70 percent of it
trashed
knowin they still
starvin in africa

dust my shoes
zip the coat
on a mission
to do
forced labor

books of books
of chapters
I care
nothing of

24,256 dollars
worth of nothingness
this year
plus 3 hours
on facebook
daily

equivalent to
what I have to be
minus
what I want to be

catatonic free verse (26/30)

flinchin' and skippin'
beats cause brain is
itchin' to spit out
anotha and anotha

comes to mind
pressure pushin pounds
slicing stanzas
rulin' rounds
killin' em
you killin' em

verbally catatonic
ripping verses like
a schizo

kickin' sentences
with
illegible words
on crinkled paper
in white ink
to be seen never
free flow
down the sink
through the drain
its insane
you insane

til' its ill
til' its still
got them silenced
wishin wantin to hear
more of the word play
til' u slay
each and every one of them
killin' em
you killin' em

encore they want more
so you let it out
pushin pounds
still slicing slurs
til' all those words
become letters
then marks
and dots
drop the mic(pen)
done
(freely).

there they were (25/30)

There they were

as prominent as god made them

as delicate as life prepared them.

Her eyes deep and lucid

mind uncertain .

There’s a heart in her arms

a mallet in his

that he knew nothing of at first

because to him he came second to them.

She attempted flight

But each time she jumped she failed

and he was there to catch her

as he had seen her fall before.

Though the two scars on her back confirmed her failure

Time after time

he caught her knowing fate

In no other way.

sleeping together (24/30)

if they just lay there
and do
what is only necessary
when eyes burn
minds wonder and bodies
fall
is it any more wrong
than being
without something
to hold?

sleeping together
becomes
sleeping together

only see them
in the same bed
sharing the same sheet
head to head
feet to feet

don't connect
everything in between

they just want that extra
heat and breath
pair of arms
hand and hope
to wake up
and get up
without commitment

prelude to that jazz performance (23/30)

mic-check
one two one...

blank.

i cant get this right
i've been pushin it all night

gleaming smile
and effortless wow
then I'm reborn, like
Sarah Vaughan
how I'd wished to be

instead trying to check
this mic
wondering what
comes after one
when its obviously
two

break.

out goes the lyrics
in comes the critics

lights.

Ella is not too far
from Frank
i hope
'cause I'm still
stuck on this mic-

check
one two one...

null and void pt.2 (null) (22/30)

null street
concrete as tattered as we made it
maybe years ago
still here
and worth walking down
and up

2 full blocks of street lights
without lights
and powerless for the next
5 hours

dealers on the corner
next to double dutchers
and bus stop hopefuls
stereos pushing limits
killing kids on the forth floor
trying to do their algebra
while cops circle looking
for a reason to ride slow

empty streets
full of life
the kind
you never
saw on tv

so its nothing
but one word

its this thing now... (21/30)

hair straight from the 60s
shirt less than more, these
slacks go far back
(as her mothers closet)
but its fresh they lack
not from the store
but from the shelf
retro evermore
designs by herself
had the meaning of a thousand
words stitched into it pockets
reaped the benefits of a radical
whose style reversed the clock, its
creases put the pieces of the puzzle
into complete perspective,
left the crowd a hopeless jumble
with a sign "cool resurrected",
and the truths of stylistic findings
is in the closet
where she left it,
woulda screamed MURDER
to those who stunted like the kept it,
singing
"joe you coulda got it if you neva woulda stressd it"

probate (20/30)

lined and chained
by the arms
and by vows
a complete dedication
to conformity

years upon years
of that same line
on this same grass
and concrete

everything leads
up to this
the deep howls
and screeches
stomps and cries
rooted formalities
and hopeful
uneducated crowds
who prey
on nights like this

thursday nights at soul (19/30)

the thing about
Thursday nights is the
congregation to this one place
we call soul
not for the food
for the DJ
for the opportunity to see
other tanned skin
(at least for those who are deprived)

didn't we know
there is a room
across the hall
where the white
and Asians eat
the same meal?

we wonder why
they would want these
dried pork chops
and
candy yams.

I wonder if we
would do the same
for them.

title (18/30)

I see past those
calm gestures
and cool respoonses

How you hop
to your feet
so easily
we your done
with me,
just to initiate
our title

Is that loveless
you say you've been
before?

You grab for my hand
when it gets too heavy
then push it away
biting just enough
to hurt yet help

Loveless I wished to be.

Don't worry
I know
I'm a replacement
just as much
as you are

a clean bed.(17/30)

as my forgetful fate
would have it
I lost a lot of
things today
but still not you

they say you
can't turn over
the sheets
and expect
a clean
bed

turned those sheets I have
over and over
tainted is
my bed
spoiled are these sheets
in effort to forget

but still there you are

scratching the crevices
of my bellowing mind
there you lurch
testing
its sanity

(open) relationships (16/30)

Freedom is but a privilege
at first
evolving from a choice
answering larger confrontations
that were desired to be
let free
But everybody knows
they are meant to be
contained
elaborated and reiterated

-relationships 101-

but truthfully nobody knows
So let it be
like the bees
and the birds would
Let it so effortlessly
I'm sure they've seen
us
(and heard us)
when we are we
every other week
or 3
(openly, that is)

heard (15/30)

five notes
one flat
with a melody
sung on key
hopefully
if it could be heard
it would be sung
flawlessly
but instead it is kept
within his room
in the shower
on her breath and
un-harmonized
none the less
never heard
by those
who could careless
unless
she could blow
or he could kill
but if he's deemed
"slightly above ordinary"
her song
would not be heard
his melody
would not be sung
just
five notes and
one flat

x-men (14/30)

now that they shoot
up each block
like they did
rock and roll
mcdonalds
and
47th street
we can't walk
downtown
without grasping
our purses
and
wallets
pepper spray in 1 hand
keys between fingers
like
wolverine
we pretend to be
x-men
hoping to slay them
fearing
they will slay us

ownership (13/30)

we make
our promises,
one condom at a time,
and they take each one
more likely to be broken
then the next

we push to let go
but they push back
until we are forced
to hold on
tighter

then it gets
to a place we didn't want
deeper than before
but simplicity was easier
because it
protected us
from feeling
disease

when we get it
we take it
then give it
to someone
but we will never
forget who
gave it first

we'll let them own us
because they've had us

morning rolls to the grocery store (12/30)

just when we thought we could sleep in
3 knocks on the door
2 more minutes to wake up
1 slap on the head

family field trip
to get the meals
that would last us
at most
a quarter of the week

a 30 minute stroll
or should i say roll
with that asinine
homeless lady cart
from the red line

it may have 4 wheels
but it is no car

we had learned its ins and outs
how to turn the corners
on hind wheels
and to avoid cracks and holes
opting for the street
when the sidewalks were beaten
occasionally tipping over
when the loss of balance
was inevitable

or was it loss of confidence?

winters trumped summers
it was by far more painful
to see those in cars
how we envied those kids
who got to carry
their groceries
from their trunks

and frostbitten hands
and aching backs
from leaning forward
to avoid the black ice

how we fought
over who rolled
last time

summer did kill us though
we saw them
and they saw us
so we hung our heads
knowing the cart was
immovable

and such was life
as we knew it
as we lived it

hand me my heart (11/30)

I label affection as an object
using it to show myself when I can
leads to more problems
and less solutions at hand-
me my heart
before i choose to loose it
my body is to fast
heart and mind should prelude it
But my mind won't speak for my heart
because my heart can't seem to find
the right affections
to be interpreted by my mind
and when my mind is lost my stomach turns
because it won't let out the words my mouth yearns
and when I yearn to speak my mind I find
my lines unwind sentences break
words un-define
accents un-emphasize all combine
into a sub sequential rhyme
that I call mine

what can I say? (10/30)

It seems a lot harder than it is a lot easier to say nothing at all

What can I say to say what I mean to say?
I'm trying to say what i mean
but my mind is rambling
and my mouth is confused

So much more is to be said, to be heard
but I can't put thoughts into words
Forming a simple sentence
is a struggle for me
because I want you
to know what I am saying
without me saying it

Words are worth less to me
Being verbally blind has forced me
to see me but not hear me
Now nothing and everything
is better in silence

I'd give up and give in at the slightest chance
to express myself in anyway
that doesn't have to do with something
I have to say

monday night walkout (9/30)

when you walked away
i knew then I would have to be
only me.

this would be the me
i haven't been or known
for years.

then i would see
truth periodically
as i know
I can't control
my own role.

he will soon follow
(I knew I would be but half by myself)
to complete
and replace me
and not you.

square one I'm back to
the drawing board
sketching out another
love that will
be erased
sooner than later

sunday seats (8/30)

hypocrites liars cheaters
killers adulterers
aligned by the alter seated
seeking a truth a solution and a reason why

after about 3 months I was seated too
knowing I could find no savior

prayed out with hopelessness
planted in my brain before
the thought of salvation was
seeded

amongst them i sat
hypocritical intentions known and intended
believing no more than I could have

yet still I prayed (not hoped) for a salvation
of sorts as i knew it to happen
to some of us

Such simplistic beauty in those who have something to believe

null and void pt.1 (void) (7/30)

Never void this piece we call home

Corners and liquor stores
vacant lots and dirt grass
yet and still
home

So what
you never park your car
out here or take
this way to get to
Hyde Park

I know your uppity ass
knows we live here

low ends
no end

So take the long route home
to your green fronts
and finished concrete blocks
and quiet nights

We will stick to what we know.
(Don't ever forget we live here though)

failure (6/30)

I thought I wouldn't be stuck here
thinking of what to write
what to tell
with suppressed
unfortunate thoughts of failure

punching in one letter
at a time
with fears of failing you
instead of myself

those words and words and words
are pulling my nerves
I know they will devour you
before they
kill me

I would rather I go first
with my protests
on paper
before you acknowledge
their imperfections

I am success inverted
metaphorically speaking I hope
but only in my mind

failure again

i used to love her too (5/30)

sick of hearing the same
punch lines
and predictable
verses-

it is reminiscent of the way it used to be-
fore we jumped into pushing coke-
cans for advertisements and
quick cash

and seeing the same
old swag
that we have all
seen before-

it held justifiable intentions even at will-
ing to express despite opposition and the like-
ly to make you find you before
you could find you

and allowing those
who spit weak
to speak for us-

it was beyond powerful
once underground and un-
Common,
i used to love her too

buses (4/30)

Packed
Shoulder to shoulder
Onto this
Hellhole of a moving vehicle

Too close to breathe
Too close to move
Still avoiding each others idiosyncrasies

Stage center
Declaring her ignorance
Rocawear jeans and clean-cut forces
Singing at the top of her lungs
Songs of rage

On the back of the bus,
none the less,
exactly where they want her.

DISCLAIMER!
We are not all like this.

And would I jump across this public form of
transportation to stab her straight and
obliterate this source of mediocrity?

No.

That would only
Kill my pride
And let them know
I’m just as her

alleys (3/30)

It's the best place to do it
because no one sees
and no one hears what they can't see
Dark and Lenny up the street
Concealed.Correct.Complete.
I'm guessing God made them for us:
Sanctified holy grounds,
Kissed with crack filled remedies,
Blessed with the stench of fading time
Raped of sanity
Grounds that hold the answers to life
and its antagonizing questions
They are the curse to our communities
to our mothers
to our brothers
They are the reason we run,
we hide,
we fight.

fresh. (2/30)

Shield, thunder and bolt strike me

Render me weak, leave me vulnerable, innocent,

Random and unable to be decisive and what comes with it.

Its love for destruction heals me so

As everything about it is not me

Its desire to persist in what it does best

Inspires me to do the same.

Though able to block what is felt

And protect its real

It creates light in what is dark

Illuminates the game with a revolutionary aspect

And depicts the true form of modern art

Its sound tracks and cracks the surface

And echoes systematically and rhythmically

Denotes the epitome of fresh. cool. fresh.

Simply what I want and do not want

Rendering me hopeless and leaving me speechless

Showing me my love for sound with

The sound it makes.

It fails to complete as it is only temporary weather

Still an irresistible composition.

what i would be like (1/30)

if everything i ever wanted
was at my fingertips
i would be like her
happy beyond reason
oblivious to reality
typically lifeless and
without soul
like her my eyes would see black
and my ears would hear white
and lucky would be my reason
when blessed should be so
lost would be my cause
common sense would be my loss
sensibility would be nothing
and if i had it all
i would appreciate it none
like her is
what i would be like.