I Wrote this a while back…

If coochie is lethal
Then dick is the assassin
Ready to run up on you
In an arrogant fashion
Ready to pull the trigger
On any girl that’s passing
Blastin’ then dashin’
A lady’s prized possession
He dipped in and out
And in one session
He left you with a token
of his ignorance to remember him
wasn’t his seed
was more like his disease
Conned you into thinking you wouldn’t be displeased
So freeze
Lady’s don’t sink to your knees
Brotha please
I don’t want your cheese
Just take it ease
I’ve got my own swiss
And I’ll buy my own whip
I ain’t dumb
Cuz yea I acquire my own chips
So know this
It ain’t zeros that I role with
More like Black Queens
who determine their own fate
and ain’t strung like crack fiends
So don’t tell me I carry money rolls
cuz I want too much
Just know that I can walk alone
Cuz I don’t flaunt too much
But you, you walk with many hoes
cuz your dick cums too much
Tryna brush me off
When really your bullshit stunk too much
And at the end of the day
I’ll have my way
Regardless if you’re still thinking I’m a bitch
Cuz I wouldn’t give you the time of day
But hey, I know who I am
And your attempt was wack
Your delivery is played
So homie get back
Luda said it right dammit
You don’t know me like that

That’s my word.

Peace.

Poetry

Woke up one morning
Jumped right outta bed
Couldn’t find any paper
So I wrote it on his forehead
Dear Tyrone, I’m done with all the fighting
Secret phone calls
Sick of you moonlighting
I’m over all the begging and pleading for you to change
Done trying to change you and have your thoughts rearranged
Dear Tyrone my time here is doneI’m ready to move on
Too many battles I haven’t won
I’m way passed tired
That feeling has subsided
I’m feeling more like humourous
Amused by my under wire
That’s digging me nowmore than you did me
Honey this is your wake up call
It’s a quarter past three
It’s time to open your eyes
You hit snooze already
One too many times on this relationship
Farther and farther we are getting
It’s not me it’s you
Who seems to have the problem
I ain’t Dr. Phil even though I tried to resolve them
Maybe one day you’ll learn I am your best
The better part of you
The one who has you blessed
But even if you don’t I won’t be around
With my bags packed and ready
I’m no longer holding you down.

That’s my word.
Peace.

Poetry

The last thing he wanted to do today was run for the bus
I mean he just got off working a double shift at Toys R Us
It’s not like he has never done it
U know, run for the bus before
But his kid is in the school play
With the biggest part
And he’s only in grade four
He promised he’d sit in the front row
And get there before the curtain was drawn
Even if it meant he’d be there with his work clothes on
He wouldn’t miss it for the world
A disposable camera and some gummy worms
He knew his son always liked those
So he ran hard for the bus
While people stared at his pace
Thinking to themselves
That he shouldn’t bother running
Another bus would come along and take this ones place
But he had made a promise to his son
A word he had to keep
Cause his daddy used to make them all the time
But his talk was very cheap
He wanted to set an example
And make his kid feel special
Didn’t want to disappoint his child
So he’d run for a million buses
If it meant his son wouldn’t wrestle
With the conflicting thoughts
That his daddy didn’t care
He wouldn’t make the same mistakes
And be a daddy who wasn’t there
So if you see a man running for the bus
And the bus driver doesn’t see
Make sure to hold a spot for him
So his child can be on stage happy
That his daddy was the best a daddy could be

That’s my word.
Peace.

Poetry

He sat there with his eyes open

Wondering why had I spoken

About a life style

Motivated by the right smile

Where I planned on giving him my best

Filled with many intimacies

So this I must confess

Sit back and just rest

I’ll take my time

All u gotta do is say yes

Still the challenge is knowing

How deeply I can express

What’s in my heart

The softer part

Guarded by my failure proof vest

So let me tell you…

With one look

He wanted to consume my very existence

Between a woman and a man

He couldn’t understand his feeling

That was more than a one night type business

See although he didn’t know it

Possibly too proud to admit

My demeanor had him trapped

Shhhh….I told you to relax

This is just my observation, in fact

You see the curve of my back

Fits the curl of your lips

And your desire to come back

Is controlled by the switch of my hips

My hold on him was such a

Forceful opportunity that could not be missed

But don’t mistake my description of the physical

For all that I have to offer

You see I felt this before it became sexual

And by the end of it all you’ll be saying

Damn I love her.  

That’s my word.

Peace.

Poetry

Mental liberation feeds societal integration 

Or rather association leads to cultural elimination

While sexual relations come after years of maturation

But self-disintegration still exists through our greed/hate dictations

I wish my internalizations didn’t create my impatience

to seek a better occupation in this white owned nation

But I can no longer stay in a state of ingnoration

Because I know capitalization has killed our motivation

to be true to our natives

and disregard them as wastin’

A life of sex, drugs, and alcohol

Like Uncle Sam didn’t put them all

US, ME, YOU

the ones with the darker hue

up against that manipulative wall

Without a second glance we look past the degradation

By applying economic intimidation

So that when the poor seek salvation

Our arrogant misinterpretation

Of a life and death situation

Misplaces their frustration and assumes a lack of determination

When in reality the case is

These black faces

Have left bloody traces

And we no longer stop and think what the case is

Never forget about emancipation

Even though they still regard our race as

A people filled with hate and

Constantly bringing down the nation

I am hopeful to see the end of marginalization

But not without your cooperation

So until the next time I’m in your graces

To address the displacement

Sit back, think, and relate this

To your own demoralization

And never forget who that lady Crystal Renee is.

That’s my word.

Peace.

Poetry

They say I’m black listed by a list run by whites

But I say I’m that gifted

with a thick mind and perfect sight

So I know how wack this is

To be first world with so much plight

Kids selling their bodies

Roaming our streets at night.

No home to go to

Alone and neglected

With no choice but to fight

So I attack this mission

All with perfect precision

Look at the way my words make incisions

Still don’t understand?

Then you should switch your position

So it’d give you better vision

In your mind you know you see these divisions.

Of a nation boasting equality

Then why do most minorities stay locked in poverty?

To me it’s all a trap

Think back, for 400 years

When they tried to close the gap

1,2,3,4,5,6 SNAP!

That’s the sound it made

When they kicked away the stump

And her head swung back

But now it’s 2007

And many blacks have gone to heaven

Yet still left with the feeling

like our lives ain’t worth that much and

So we’re dealing with feeling like school is the only way out

Try not to slip

Lord knows they’d point it out

Damn another black who chose to go a different route

The system will say he failed

and brought the true nigger out.

But despite the years of pain

I still find it in my people to look through the rain

And hope that in the end

We will be the ones

To make it through all the disdain.

That’s my word.

Peace.

Poetry

Some people think my lightness is equated to my intelligence (old habits die hard) while others think my lightness is too far from my blackness. My skin seems to be representing some sort of glitch that occurred somewhere down the line. The only thing that should really matter is what I think. Well here I am occupying what seems like a very big grey area, not fully taking up one space. To deal with my confusion, embarrassment and pride I decided to write. I figured if I lay it out I won’t have to lay somebody out. I wrote this a while back, but it has been a part of my experiences since I was smart enough to understand what my family’s words meant.

Before you read it I want you to know that I’ve always been nervous about sharing this, but I’m 24 now and I’ve gained some knowledge since my earlier days. So I figure I don’t have much to lose, other than my guard. So I’m letting it down and allowing you in. Hope you enjoy it::

They point out that I’m light

But inside they mean white

Never enough melanin

I swear my parents are black

That’s what I keep tellin’ ‘em

So who did you get our eyes from?

‘Cause real blacks don’t have them

Have me caught in between rejection and bewilderment

I meant what are you mixed with?

Like you changing the words really makes a difference

From a little girl to a young lady

I’ve been black along the way

But still they wanna say

So which one of your ancestors gave into your master that day

‘Cause girl you know your hair ain’t blactually that way

So I express my plight

In hopes of generating insight

While they were tryna show me the actual facts

As if I should erase the perm and bring my natural back

That’s my word.

Peace.

Poetry

I feel new anticipations when I look at you

A brand new excitement that’s better than before

Your smiles are genuine

And so are mine

It would be nice if we could sit down

And explore our differences

Because I don’t mind that you may not agree

That if you asked me to need you I’d surely say yes

And feel blessed

That we could chat about our undeniable likeness

But I would never erase the things that make you different

After all that’s what attracted me to you

Isn’t it?

Poetry

Patchwork man, patchwork man,

let me be your seamstress

I would thread your heart together so tight

All the edges would be seamless

A fresh piece of fabric I would use for you

A symbol of my presence

Every year I would add to the patch careful not to rip it

Silk or satin

Cotton and wool

Everything would be hand woven

Aware of the patches that have come loose

I would surely be glad to close them

Although this seamstress could sew well

As if her cloths were brand new

Her patches that have fallen apart

Would need some work done too

The time that has passed has worn down her fabric

It’s in need of being re-stitched

But up until now, no one was worth

The time it takes to mend it

The patch that she would give to you

Seems tailor made for hers

Because all the needles that she once knew had only left her hurt

My hands have grown tired

My fingers are sore

From holding the needle steady

So I was wondering if I could hold the patch

While I watch you delicately thread it

Patchwork man, patchwork man will you be my seamstress

My thread has come loose

I’ve left it just for you

Please come sit down and repair it.

That’s my word.

Peace.

Poetry

It makes sense to me though some will not understand

How I’ve drawn the conclusion I’m a patchwork man

Like the quilts of the month that my momma hand stitched

With the thread of a needle and the flick of her wrist

Just let me run down just what patch working means

There’s a heart that’s been torn then re-sewn at the seams

Through life its gets broken and at times ripped apart

That’s just when the sewing and the patch working starts

See the death of a loved one is most hard to face

But that piece of your heart has to now be replaced

So you mix and you match and you ramble thru scraps

You’ll probably get close but you won’t find a match

And just when that new piece you find starts to blend

You fall out of love and need patchwork again

This time it’s not big, only a small piece of fabric

You’d think you could match it, but they’ll surely not have it

The next thing you welcome the birth of a child

A giant piece of fabric to sew takes a while

In continuation with the whole patch working theme

You replace an old flame with the one of your dreams

Your dream love was cool it but it wasn’t meant to be

So you took back your ex cause ya’ll had history

Your trust is renewed so you deal with the fact

They left and came back with a whole other patch

And just as you thought that the patchwork would end

You now are betrayed by your very best friend

Forget and forgive cause ya’ll been down so long

But the shit that do to your heart is just wrong

By now you should know what comes coupled with that

For each time that they’ve burnt you you’ve acquired a patch

I’ve loved and I’ve lost, I forgave and forgot

I’ve cheated, I’ve lied and I’ve seen quite a lot

If you look deep inside to your own heart you’ll see

The stitches and patches that reflect history

A pattern is cool as is your sewing a kilt

But nothing epitomizes our hearts like an old patchwork quilt

So does this explain bout the first line I penned

I’ve come to accept I m a patchwork of a man.

Good Game (copyright 2008)

Poetry