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poetry

Wait.
This is very disturbing.
Quite blantant.
Let’s all just stand around
try to find evidence
frame the picture
And wait.
We have time.
Check again.
No not his pulse, yes
Pockets, he must have something
They always do.
Wait.
do nothing.
Go ahead, hit record
he’s just a petty hustla
An easy target
Repeat offender we recognize
To get some more tax dollars
Wait.
Over his weight limit so
We had to wrestle cause
Taking down black bucks
Gets the heart pumpin
And the day started
Like a cup of joe
After bowels move
Dem boys in blue
like it vile and dark
Shedding light on the
Best part of waking up is
Black bodies
Filling this cup til
It runneth over.
Drink it in.
Keep checkin.
Surround him
To cover up any mistakes
As we Continue to wait.
Wait
For Back
Up
But keep checkin.
cast him as lethargic
hear his crys
But there are no rights here
That were heard that we are
Bound to to respect,
the oldest rule in the system.
Everyone knows Plessy
At the academy
And recognizes that
he is no man
More beast than anything.
That’s why we
Wait.
just poke the nigga
and see if he’ll magically awake.
For in CPR class they
taught us not to touch black lips
I’ve seen them
change like the wind
And will turn animalistic at any minute.
Beware of the tricksters motif.
Back up will arrive in just one minute. Let’s
Wait.
10/30 – outside smelly cat
Eavesdropping
A conversation
About love
She said
he cried.
That’s funny.
I woke up Christmas
And freaked
The fuck out
I’ve never had a relationship
Like this
He broke my TV
Please just get out my bedroom
He had that moment
Where he got
So frustrated
Threw the remote
Now look what you made
Me DO!
Break the TV
I wish you would just calm
Down and we can talk
He left
But before he did
he penned an excuse
In the form of poem
The beginning line…
“In my own blindness, I fail “
And the last…
“My heart will miss the love lost”
He came back
Talking about a job
Then makes it a point to
Say
Im not moving anywhere
And I’ve seen him more
in the last 3 weeks
Than I have in the last year
Like it or not there is no
Relation here
Im not his girl
friend anymore.
6/30 – First Sunday Dinner with Lee Lee
Genteel and jolly.
dressed in
white
Surrounded by petals
The color of the sun.
Traveling the speed of sound,
Crossing over top of the
Hill
Into her mothers living room,
her other son
Waits.
Untils she finishes
Breaksfast or beauty tips
Or bouncing
Blessings
Off baby sister while
Brothers check in
Periodically
fellowshipping in earnest
terms Asking for grace,
As mother Mary humbly
imparts causal wisdom
continuing
To accessorize in love.
And commonsense,
As style is to
class
And in this Cannon
house of Couture
praise,
All are running
late for school but
Never tardy in
Service.
So we exit swiftly,
I sleepy and tired from
Tradition
Her smiling and singing
Because of it.
Buckle
up.
As the spirit moves
Us the back way thru
promised land,
Windows down with
The breeze as my alarm
Clock
No ten and two
position needed
only her nude knee
as a guide
Jesus as her co pilot
as she finishes her
full brown face in
The rear view
mirror
We arrive on familiar ground.
Off by the creek
Where baptism
Is more than
a dipped deity, Its
history
Community congregating,
knowing across the pasture
Life isnt Always greener
For our skin tone must
lean on everlasting
arms
1st lesson
learned by
ear
2nd,
that the Son’s day
is the most segregated
For a
reason
We have two mount moriah’s to climb.
And the lily is a vast valley
Of trials and the morning star
Just revealed its light
8 beats ago
In poly rhythmic
African
isms.
What thou calleth voo doo
Us steeped in steeple
Customs
calls it the holy
spirit,
Though all will make thee welcomed
We just dont have time
To teach ritual.
It must be
engrained,
passed down generously like
An offering or cautious as
communion
We enter,
Social formalities
And genuine pleasantries
Exchanged,
Hymns connect us
To the cross we each must bear,
As ushers direct movement
Songs fill the walls
As well as wailing screams
Of released
burdens
pastoral figures excorise
Meaning while flocks
Turn to the middle
of the passage to relate
This is
sacred.
And there is no benediction
Only open doors
Tired children, just waking
renewed parents, still
contemplating
Walking in
just as they come,
As we were.
Full of
Hope.
Rising on one accord,
Only judgement
and unused programs
Left in the
pews.
A sea of Sunday’s
best dressed
women covered
In off white
Waving like a flag
Ready to surrender its
Soul,
Men loosening patterned nooses
from around necks
To take a full breath
Adjourned.
We shake, hug
and exit back
Of house hours
After being watched
between You and
me.
All parties gather to break
Bread with whomsoever
cooked whatsoever
feast.
Never absent from one
another for too long.
I wait for her voice to
Serenade a
signal,
Unlock the door
Watch the heatwave leave
Tight quarters,
til leather and metal
Recover from sunburn,
Buckle
down.
Return home bypass
This way.
Lee Lee is still
singing
Leaving hints of
Whats cookin besides her
Faith.
3 into 4/30
Everything
your mama told
You to stay clear of
Keepers of free
thought
spirit
first amendment
We are the ones
Who puts life
On paper
Turns the narrative
Before the ink drys
Rewrites for the soul
Keepin heartbeats in
Check.
Balances
the weight of
Oversight and
the 20/20 of
Understanding
Concluding
we are all human
(though we’d like to think otherwise)
We are certainty
when nothing last
Forever except words.
We are tucked
inside of
Meaning
Sleeping
in language
We are waiting
For you to wake up
And dream with us
Til the dawn breaks
Like a poem rising
To the occasion.

the fORm Is (un)done
The form is (un)done
Reverting black
To hearing this.
I should not
Simple this;
For it is more
Jesse B. Complex.
Gave it to God,
Cause he’s better
With the difficult
Than I
So I over come and
Re(me)mber
The gift/
The ingrained
In veins and remixed.
First heard this
Rhythm from my
Grandmother
Who is 99 and counting.
I am my father’s grand cousin
Re(in)venting time.
Publishing my thoughts
Like Russ
Not Simmons
Like Goings
into history
Staying in history
Carrying the next moment
We are so deep
We don’t know
Where
We come from
We just
Do.