- Location:Downtown San Francisco
- Mood:
bouncy - Music:live instruments
- Location:16th and Mission
- Mood:
jubilant - Music:cars and buses
I have been waitin'... to touch you gurl
but I can't wait too long
my heart it hurts
my hand is strong
yo' thick redbone lips
make me wanna
Spin the bottle, spin the bottle, spin the bottle
'cause my heart it hurts
& my hand is strong
the days are hott
the nights are long
like the thickness
'tween my thighs
sometimes your eyes say
"He is like the night."
& your lips, so thick
don't know what to say
as you gaze at me
your bottom lip hangs
like niggaz on a corner
hittin' weed & havin' fun
holdin' blunts & singin' songs
that are long like the night
& the thickness
'tween my thighs
drankin' cups of sin
on the rocks
playin' dat same ass tune
My sidewalk on Saturday Night Fever
I don't wanna let you...slide away
but I don't want to seem too eager
I jus' wanna be me...wit' you
sprawl my thoughts of forever
on the blades of your garden
I wanna be your "Hotchocolate Mandingo", Ndada
However, I was called upon with flaws
at least that's what some would say
& I wanna love you
how I am lovin' myself...today
I wanna be touchin' you
how I am touchin' myself... today
as I lay
along my bed
I lay alone...alone I lay
- Location:my bedroom
- Mood:
flirty - Music:"come on, come on, come on,come on, come on lets make love tonight". Marvin Gaye
I find it's betta
2 lay down all my burdens
right where I am at
2 lay down all my burdens
right where I am at
- Location:downtown s. f.
- Mood:
depressed - Music:papa was a rolling stone, where eva he laid his hat was his home
If time is my father
& the earth is my mother
then how do I as the Son
keep shinin'?
From the very first minute that time began
& the Lord blew life
into the nostrils of man,
time has decimated my mother.
Not once, not twice,
but thousands of times
& I, who have risen from the dust of her soils
to become this
which is, what I am.
I am her world,
yet she revolves around me.
Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.
From the flesh of my flesh, and the blood of my blood,
I have learned to abuse my mother.
With war and pollution,
in so many ways
it seems no solution
can rectify the wrongs, that I have done
& it seems I have failed her as a Son.
Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.
The dark seas
of the Indian Ocean breezes
like a river running nose.
Lions roar, while hyenas feast
with carmine teeth
on niggas with no lips nor legs.
Ancient trees mourn
left to right.
Caterpillars cocoon into monarchs,
but my niggas...
may never know the form of black MEN.
Someday we will change-prison
concrete; cold like rainy nights
December shanks plank flesh,
with fire from a cold hell.
Crisp hat, white, crooked-to the side.
A indistinct individual amongst ants
scurrying inside a highway of swamp tar.
I WAS BORN IN GRAVY!!!
I knew niggas that flew
from the womb
into the wind like silverbacks.
Spiraling down a gnarled macabre-fastened road
searchin' for red-white-blue
rainbows, behind a desolate moon.
They crawl,
under the sidewalk of righteousness
& breathe only the air
of the skanless.
title inspired by a childrens book.
Cool, slate gray with crevices
decaying corners.
Curbs collect empty sodah-watah cans,
beer bottles with winos attached,
watch the show on Broadway
as the wind whispers a song:
It's no place like home.
It's no place like home.
It's no place like home.
Debris doing pirouettes,
like Jared the Junky's mind.
Urinating in his pants.
Skidmarks etched from stiletto heels,
beckon for help unheard.
"What's the word?"
The liquor store painted
crimson, minus the acrylic.
Sadie stabbed
Manolo last night
for having sex
in the kitchen with her homegurl.
The frigid cement
gave him rest,
as his blood
navigated the pavement
down the sewer.
Miss Mabel
leanin' on her ledge
waters ferns,
sighs:
It's been 87 years
& it still hurts
to see one of her plants die.
- Location:San Francisco's Tenderloin
- Mood:
gloomy - Music:Saturday Night Fever
My brown strawberry
so down
so very sensual
so sexual
you saturate my eyes
with a waterfall of satisfaction
Ms Diva sportin' Baby Phat
Twistin' strands of braided brown hair
around scarlett fingertips
restin' palms on willowtree hips
Those eyes they kiss my skin
& send sensations like sake
shootin' thru me
I want you
to want me
the same way that I want
your brown strawberries
So round
so very sensual
so sexual
you send my eyes slitherin'
down delicious lady lumps
like frost off a can of cola
on the hottest day in California
I wipe my sweat
& whisper Hallelujah
Cause you make me wanna holla
but I don't
& you make me wanna touch you
but I won't
What I will do
is feel you like you be feelin' me
cause you recognize my struggle
when I am out there in them streets
With that gun out in them streets
But why am I out there in them streets
if I'm not runnin' to you
my brown strawberry
So saucy
so very...Supa-fine
supa-cool...but nothin' superficial
You makin' moves
to show & prove
so I sho' can't hate yo' hustle
'cause I recognize that struggle
that me against the world
mentality
that, "I'm ah feed my babies by any means necessary!"
That ,"I'm ah take the rap like Lil' Kim,
& keep it solid."
That, "Aint nothin' gonna break my stride,
aint nothin' gonna hold me down,
oh hell no, 'cause I'm a keep it movin!"
That is whats so soothin'
although some may think that you're a square
your heart is so well rounded
& when a brotha come home from prison
you soak me in your arms
to keep me grounded
like roots deep in the soil
sometimes we toil at becoming one
but we are so close knit
the only thing that can rise
from between us
is a Son
My brown strawberry
so down
so very...sensual
so sexual
you saturate my eyes
so down
so very sensual
so sexual
you saturate my eyes
with a waterfall of satisfaction
Ms Diva sportin' Baby Phat
Twistin' strands of braided brown hair
around scarlett fingertips
restin' palms on willowtree hips
Those eyes they kiss my skin
& send sensations like sake
shootin' thru me
I want you
to want me
the same way that I want
your brown strawberries
So round
so very sensual
so sexual
you send my eyes slitherin'
down delicious lady lumps
like frost off a can of cola
on the hottest day in California
I wipe my sweat
& whisper Hallelujah
Cause you make me wanna holla
but I don't
& you make me wanna touch you
but I won't
What I will do
is feel you like you be feelin' me
cause you recognize my struggle
when I am out there in them streets
With that gun out in them streets
But why am I out there in them streets
if I'm not runnin' to you
my brown strawberry
So saucy
so very...Supa-fine
supa-cool...but nothin' superficial
You makin' moves
to show & prove
so I sho' can't hate yo' hustle
'cause I recognize that struggle
that me against the world
mentality
that, "I'm ah feed my babies by any means necessary!"
That ,"I'm ah take the rap like Lil' Kim,
& keep it solid."
That, "Aint nothin' gonna break my stride,
aint nothin' gonna hold me down,
oh hell no, 'cause I'm a keep it movin!"
That is whats so soothin'
although some may think that you're a square
your heart is so well rounded
& when a brotha come home from prison
you soak me in your arms
to keep me grounded
like roots deep in the soil
sometimes we toil at becoming one
but we are so close knit
the only thing that can rise
from between us
is a Son
My brown strawberry
so down
so very...sensual
so sexual
you saturate my eyes
- Location:chocolate city
- Mood:
artistic - Music:brick house...commodores
- Location:anywhere USA
- Mood:
frustrated - Music:the sound of a street rally
I scrub, scrub, scrub.
Socks that don't get white no mo',
drawls wit' holes n' brown
streaks by the crotch.
Scrub, scrub, scrub.
I sangs n' wash my dirty clothes
like my Aunt Thelma use to...
fo' she died. Spit snuff, drank Tanqueray,
wash dirty clothes & cook chitt'lins---scrub.
Swivel Kool-Aid man hips
tap shoe swollen toes to music
that was playin' on the record playa'
two days b' fore & moan like Wolfman Jack,
I be strokin' , that's what
I be doin' Baby,
strokin'.
Scrubbin', strokin', scrubbin', strokin',
soiled sheets in da sink.
Makes me feel like mammies
on knees, leanin' long, elbows twist
& turn below suds shaped like Kilamanjaro.
Scrub, soak, scrub.
My different hues
denim blues. Sho' could go fo' a 25 cent Snickers
but that was... 25 years ago---I was seven.
Scrub, scrub, scrub.
My daddy is a scrub!
Mo' I wash---mo' I wonder,
Why my daddy
me when candy was only a quarter?
SCRUB!!!
- Location:San Quentin state prison
- Mood:
contemplative - Music:Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash
The months of May
through September
became nothing more but crumpled pages
beneath Ben & Jerry rocky road pints
& half eaten pickle n' jelly sandwiches
which clung to the opposite corner
of the brown paper wastebasket
As I sunk
into the imprint-he left
upon her bed
January began to loom
like a ceiling fan
with one screw
blades spinnin'
like the hoola hoop
of a 6 year black gurl
on the last day of Spring
navigatin' her tongue
along the side of her styrofoam cup
catchin' every last drip of her aunty June's
famous red Kool-Aid icee
I palmed
her swollen belly
caressed it in circles
like I was its father
My fingers felt black life
form & fight
to escape like a slave
in search for Canada
She was so linus
& I was December's blanket of comfort
Something warm
until my season ends...
& he finds his way back home from prison
- Location:chocolate city
- Music:Step Daddy by Too Short
Oh my Lord
I know that there is nothing greater
than to be in thy presence
But sometimes I fear dying
& other times I fear living
To reach my fullest capabilities
it's like climbing Kilamanjaro
with no feet nor hands
I fear falling-failing
when sailing seems so much like me
flying free-not dying
If i die
I will die by the hands
of someone angry, black & uneducated
A young shrapnel-flesh-bender
backwards bent on madness
logic spent on speed and stardust
He can't stop rappin'
'cause that's his thang
at 100 miles per hour
thuggin' to the 13th power
pants saggin'
like grandma's skin
off his bones-no one's home
BLIND
born into a world
with no state of mind
Holdin' on to his block
& holdin' on to his crotch
'cause his pops didn't leave him nothin'
to hold on to...
But this life that's street
and the pulse of its beat
(Doom dah dah, doom doe doe
Doom dah dah, doom doe doe)
Warrior
bangin' like cymbals
from the back of scrapers
for symbols
on the back of green papers
digestin' young black brothas
SCREAMIN'
"We just want to live life, not...die...with it."
This psalms from the slums
was predicted by a prophet
who smoked weed inside the sun
He reincarnated me as Moses
& said, "Speak boy, to the masses."
Black is "Bay-tiful"
Black is "L.A.-agant"
Black is "Harlem-onious"
Black is "Down South
gold all in yo' mouth, Magnificent"
It drips in shades
of Beyonce black
to Notorious B.I.G browns
It celebrates one another
though we come from different backgrounds
It allows us to see
that we can agree to disagree
& how unnatural it is
to sidewalk my soul
along the curb
inside the cracks
between the streets
So, yes Lord
I'm scared of dying
'cause I have yet begun to live
& deep within my heart
I'm still that angry little kid
that has grown into a manCHILD
chasin' dreams steadfast
that my name
& my LIFE
will live on
even if I come to pass
I placed my knees against the earth
planting the seeds of my past deeds
with a love so pure
pouring a water so brown
baking it under the sun with fever
so that my son-flower
will grow up with my soul-fervor
perhaps, fathering a dream of hope
that i may live forever
But nothing blossomed
but a stem
that bent over backwards
and hung from its root
sighing:
"I might as well die now
before you leave me
like your father left you!"
- Location:anywhere USA
- Mood:
distressed - Music:Across 110th Street
The wind touches me
similar to a lovers hand;
7 years in waiting.
Ferry laden waters
acknowledge me
I am those same depths
As it moves,
Pacific waters whittle,
memories are reincarnated
of simplistic eyes pooling
unable to ascertain the reasons
why we all are weeping
walkingtalkingconfused
sleeping,
since Babel.
Africans anglos asians latinos polynesians
from 4 regions
United.
Surrounding a ripping fire
protected by Cypress.
Chanting Kumbayah my Lord,
Kumbayah.
Kindred chil'ren frolic,
skippin; stones upon the lake,
feet-bare.
The earth accepts
my noble sable skin,
I am those same depths,
I seal my eyes
return to it's womb,
where qualities of a man
are intuitively peaceful,
harmonic.
- Location:National Park
- Mood: contemplative
- Music:I just want to get away...
|
&h=398&w=300&sz=24&hl=en&start=8&sig2=_AmjjpTykMwnIQ-9L5MjzQ&um=1&tbnid=EgblsNQq9CrWtM:&tbnh=124&tbnw=93&ei=1pxBSNqKLpOy6wOciqS9Bg&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dlinus%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dfirefox-a%26rls%3Dorg.mozilla:en-US:official%26sa%3DN){kind=link}
whut makes u say-kridd?
is it ur yella "good" hair
or krisp blu eyes,
that makes my blakk flesh weak
& mind rot with betrayal?
Thoughts of you
drapin' me
wit nothin' 'cept ur skin.
gurl,
why u pain me
like a alabama rope 'round my neck?
blood pumps
somethin' fierce.
i will die
from gettin' sum of yo' lovin'...
or not.
i wanna let my lips
swim down that mississipi river,
krooked letter-i-humpback-humpback-i...
dream of sittin'
'tween yo' thighs
puttin' care-mail kisses
on yo' lips.
pull my kinky hair,
anchor my head still,
draw me-deep,
face-moist
as a stray blakk cat
whose tongue
taps at milk.
My life,
is in search
of being the ultimate
I have changed
so many times.
N-O-T-H-I-N-G
can stop change.
I have become cleansed
transforming like a caterpillar
into a betta-but oh so fly black man.
The sun shall shine
for those who know change.
Changing those
that were never
i aint got no kids
childless, no chil'ren
don't know if i won't none,
chil'ren that is.
loud--HYPHY-lil' likenesses
of wind&soil
blowin' fro & to
like miniature monkies
climbin' walls
swangin' from ceilings that BURN...
swimmin' in bowls of strawberry jello
& Capn' Crunch,
poppin' up with silly inquisitions
like, "Why do babies have to die in Iraq?"
Or, "How come nobody is being sent to help the black people in Darfur?"
Do you starve
when you look at me?
My "Snickers" caramel coated complexion,
(nuts and all) melted by moonlight.
Sculptured to perfection
by the most high.
Do your word become stilted,
sandwiched, meaningless?
Things which you wanted to say
become left-overs from last night's
candlelit conversation.
Do you wonder
if my "to do" list, has anything
to do----------with you?
- Mood:
hungry
Profile
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
wordsongs415- wordsongs415
Syndicate
