“700th Post!”

I think it’s crazy how.

I’ve lasted so long.

No face in the mud.

No bullets in my back.

No more selling crack.

I cracked my knuckles

Before I’ll ever fumble my

Life.

I’ll get pushed

Down by some badges.

Searched up.

beaten down!

Naw!

never me!

I made it clear

That I’d shoot first

Before they ever bury

Me!

I’ll sleep awake!

So no one can take

My dreams.

I’ve grown here.

A month before I

Started typing on

WordPress. I was

Fresh up out the

Can. Throwing away

My I’d badge.

Damn!

House raided again!

Two

Days after. I was back

In jail. then questioned.

Almost violated parol

Into probation. Came home

Again to see my younger

Brother.

He gave me the

Referral to refurbish

My life. Then he said to

Me.

“Tell your story!”

“Well don’t tell them everything?!”

“Man wtf!?”

“Just type in!?”

“You don’t know how to!?”

“Damn it!”

“Just write and I’ll type it!”

I’ve been on here ever since.

700th BABEEEEEE!!

A negro still here!

Thanks for all the support, loves and encouraging words!

Peace and blessings to you all!

Deadly Melodic

Just one

serving of

You.

I’m the dish

Flavored till complete.

Glass lips break, into

Cotton candy.

Grapes…

Lipstick those

falling shards onto

my cheek bone.

Formed A

Cutting-edge kiss.

You almost fell…

like some priceless

China plate before

I caught You.

No matter what

The risk.

I’d never

Let you ever.

A finished cuisine,

Ever hit The floor till.

Shattering.

There is no Remake

As remarkable.

Your Ivory

Sculpture.

So neatly

fine.

Looks like a

Hieroglyphs in

Lines.

Drift-tastic.

My micro endorphins

Open up like.

The sun…

Peaking through the.

After storm clouds.

This was no dream,

That your features

Were close up.

Smiled!

At the flawless

Voodoo.

I’m under

The spell of your eyes.

Oh Lord!

You put a

Spell on me!

You speak Like its

written in old English

Cursive.

Like re-watching

You in a short black and White documentary.

I comatosed into

Nostalgia…

In front of a

mirror…

In What seemed to be

An elevator….

A star, bound

To the ocean.

Into the third eye,

Left wet finger

Prints on me.

I was browsing entirely,

I became quiet.

I wish I was that

Mirror.

A phenomenon

Of beauty.

to fucking

exquisite…

I can’t fucking forget it!

My Tribe

If life was a sucker punch…

You caught me off guard…

I still stand…

Songs say I was a pirate…

I went against my own government…

Under general to rise assembly…

My people will live…

This isn’t a gang!

Political bitches and bastards…

This is were the last tribe remains…

You could never stop us…

There will be always some one stronger…

To take my place…

 

 

On the other hand!

 

 

I drank Brest milk from a firm…

Motherland…

The land of tribes…

Just like tribe in new time…

Territory advised by chief’s of war…

Cooking up newsletter letters…

Up grading the steering wheel of stereotypes…

Throwing the blind off its strong senses…

They show us off as the villains…

So they turn our uncles, mothers and fathers…

To political prisoners…

Hints…

 

 

Huey Newton, Larry Hoover, Walter Wheat, Mickey Cogwell, Jeff Fort, Bunchy Carter, Assata Shakur, Marcus GARVEY, Malcolm X, T Rogers, Tookie William’s and etc etc etc….

 

With out them…

There would have never been a me…

Hood preaching, teaching the youth…

To be truth in whatever you do…

Have respect, manners and strength in morals…

Speak your mind…

Most importantly!

Never back down from shit!

No your rights as a us citizen!

You are not a fucking minority!

To all my little ones and shorrtys…

STAY EDUCATED AND GOD FEARING!

If you divided to go a different route…

Muslim or whatever…

Just no I will always be her…

Our tribe isn’t a gang…

So let me educate you…

 

FINGER PAINT

FINGER PAINT

I love all the
colors in the
world. A
kaleidoscope
of skin colors
and flesh. Colors
keep the world
spinning dripping
wet paint on a
blank canvas of
a colorless dinner
plates put on
display for
everyone to see.
I love it! I love
the different colors
God made. The
mortal difference…
The depth of
textures… Down
to every freckle,
eye color, hair color
and skin color. All
formed together
to make an
explosion of all
of life’s sweetest
things. Life’s
sweetest thing
to me is diversity.