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)