Crick Crack Creek
Crick Crack Creek
That's the sound of death knocking on the door
A mysterious man dressed all in black locked eyes with
A hustler named Ahmad getting his hustle on Flatbush Ave
Brooklyn
Bloods, Crips, gangs
Bloods, Crips, gangs
Now Blood spilling on city streets
In Vain
Shrieks filling the skies at the stroke of midnight
Cinderella stories don't exist here
Where the prince finds his bride
the bride can truly shine
and all God's temples are sacred shrines
Get Ur Ghetto Tymes
Get Ur Ghetto Tymes
this be reality
For "our" sons and daughters
Fighting to grow up
Fighting to hold up
Collapsing souls
Unrevealed prince has found death
Ahmad was only seven plus ten
He was young, gifted and black
The gifted part was never realized
Sounds of wailing steals the place of
Of silent stars
There he lays on the cold grey concrete
Giving up his spirit to the Creator
Rising up from his body looking down
his third eye is opened and finally found
He knows that he has gone too soon
He caresses his mother
Knowing he can't stop her tears from flowing
He leaves a piece of himself
Creeping down next to his mother as
She caresses his body rocking back in forth
As if she was holding him for the
first time
New Baby smell turned to death
He kisses her cheek one last time
Stares for a long while and flies on
Looking down he sees his old hanging buddies bout to cut a pregnant black girl
for a platinum chain
Telepathically sending messages to their spirits
Respect life and it will be good to you
Respect life and it will be good to you
They stare up unto the sky motionless
Touched by something greater than themselves
It was as if they had awaken
from a bad dream
Knives drop and they walk away
As Ahmad flies on....

**************************
If Mary`s eyes were blue
And If Mary`s hair was blonde
Do you really think that a Roman
Soldier would have told her to run along
With a bun in her oven with nine months gone...

If Mary`s eye were blue
And if Mary’s hair was blonde
She would been lodged in the Hilton
And not in a "Manger` on a lawn
With a bun in her oven with nine months gone...

If Mary’s eyes were blue
And If Mary`s hair was blonde
Whites would be allowed to sit on a cloud
Blacks in hotels would not be allowed
With a bun in her oven with nine months gone...

Mary`s eyes weren`t blue
They were jet, They were black
She was a black Madonna
Prima Donna, that`s a fact
If Jerusalem is to the east
They came from the west
They followed the star from Africa
I`m good in Geography, I know best
Jesus was not blue eyed

Jesus has a fro
Don`t brainwash me with your BS....
Or I`ll tell you where to go.

Mary`s eyes were not blue
Mary`s hair was not blonde
That is why a roman soldier told her to run along.
with a bun in her oven with nine months gone.....

Taken from Lyrically Imbalanced"

Why is that you’ll probably never ever see
Someone who looks like me to play
Denzel, Wesley or Sean Connery’s
Love interest in a blockbuster movie

Social politics? Maybe money?
Or is it because society says that I am not beautiful
Or worthy of being seen
Unless it’s in a light that belittles or demeans
I’m Standing Right Here…but you won’t allow yourself to me

Clouded by mainstream European images
That don’t even belong to you
Inflicted with that
Frat boy
I wanna be like that Bitch Barbie mentality

Unfortunately you only acknowledge my physical existence
If I am partaking of some dog and pony circus Side- show
But I will not dance the jig for you
Serve my self-worth and self-respect
To you on a silver platter
All for the purpose of amusing you
And I will not break down anymore because of you…
Can YOU hear ME now? Good.

Don’t let society dictate what you should like
Or what size you should be
Heart disease, Osteoarthritis and Diabetes
Is way better logic and reasoning
Focus on being healthy and the best that you possibly can be

Lose the weight only if you chose to do so for you
And not because this fucked up world we live in says that you
have to

Embrace the complete essence of your woman ness
Those extra pieces of flesh that may sway in your hips
Reclaim your body’s phatness and realize
That you need to have absolute love for yourself…
No matter the size
For you possess beauty
Confidence and intelligence…
Personified!

© 2004-jus’BEA
All Rights Reserved

See
He’s still in the single digits and thinks the uterus is part of the rhinoceros family
I am liberated.
Feminist.
Activist.
Womban.
Mama.
I
Want to maintain his innocence
But I’m in no sense
Ignorant to what’s to come
We laugh until our bellies are forced to see stop signs
“Caution, adulthood enforced…”
And he has
Those
Eyes
Big.
Brown.
Wide.
Mine.
He likes girls.
Not women.
Not hoochies.
Not hoes because mama…”hoes are gardening tools, u know those things u use to make sunflowers grow”
And he wants to know the qualifications for how to be president
Not
Resident
Pimp/player/shot caller/b-baler
He really really doesn’t like violence (hate is a strong word)
Unless mama and daddy say protect yourself
He thinks you have to get into the Marines to be a Marine Biologist and that
Periods are at the ends of sentences
And
I
Can’t
Stop the fact that he is growing
Up
Out
He’s got legs as long as mine
And how do I tell him to run?
Run away from…
Racism
Sexism
Drivin’ while blackism
Capitalism
Pediafileism
Niggerism
Saggy-pants-ism
Drugism
I can’t help him escape
There is no island to send him too
And the reality of it all is that
He is innocent but in no sense safe…
From life.
But he says
“Pray Mama, cuz prayer fixes everything and God don’t make no junk”
and I tell him I believe him

Sonia’s Song (A poem for Sister Sonia Sanchez)

Sonia write like Louisiana-Mississippi-Haiti- red clay
Red- bone-rhymer make me want to create
She read like she know me/we been birthed out of Yemoja and white cloth some million years ago in alphabet streams
we travel same universoul rhythms
Her drum beat like tree grown from smart roots
Ancient roots
Now roots/Then roots
She wear glasses but her third eye is uncovered
Psychic lashes bat at new earth
Sonia make me want to write
and poet
and write
and poet
and write
wrongs
She move like cloud with heels
Jazz on her soul
DANCE
Sonia
DANCE
Sonia
Sonia make me want to write like red clay
Get deep down and dirty
Blood be okay cuz “we”
The griots got
Secret covenant
Promise to write
And poet
And write
And poet

I gave you my heart...
Pure
Unadulterated.
No additives.
And in return
You handed me cheap Valentine candies.
(You know the kind)
Dime store, powdered
solidified, sugar confections.
As hard as your erections.
I love you's;Be mine's; and
Forevers...
Wrapped in "easy to open" cellophane.
Wasn't worth the endeavor.
Paying with this pain.
I indulged.
So much
I got sick
with pastel colors
Blues, pinks and yellows
Tinted on my lips.
As if YOU yourself
Left me with a poisonous kiss.
Pastey, tastey, bittersweet.
Calories they cost me
weren't worth the feat.
STILL
I floated on cloud nine
from this sugar high
HIGH.
From your bullshit lines
Too high to really see
Just what you were doing to me.
Night After night.
Sweet After sweet.
Lie After Lie.
WHY?
When all I did was LOVE YOU!!!
Sigh and breathe cotton candy skies.
Falling chocolate mint leaves
over signals, gigabytes and towers
EVERY NIGHT
for you to receive!
Where is my river
of pure milk chocolate
Flowing stream of love
Creating new sensations
discovering taste buds released on my tongue.
The thought...ELATION!
Where is my bite of Godiva
When you closed your eyes
and see me ride naked on horseback?
LOOK BACK!
I am still your caramel fantasy...
You STILL take advantage of me!
Where are my
quick hello's
removing of the clothes...
"cough, cough, I have a cold, wont be in today...
I THINK IT'S PINK EYE!" lies
and long tearful, goodbyes?
I want you's; Always; Cutie pie's;
Powder whites, blood reds, and winter greens.
Bitter bullshit now
Is all it seems.
Keep your penny candy!
Shit, collect it in a jar.
I'm heading to the corner store...
"Hola,papi!
Darme una Snickers bar!"

IMAGINATION GALLOPS, JUDGEMENT MERELY WALKS.
-Ebony

He loves her for the care & concern she gives him.
He loves her for her acceptance of him and his ways.
He loves her for being down to earth; material things aren’t her main criteria in choosing a man.
He loves her for her willingness to correct him in respectful way.
He loves her for her values & mindset.
He loves her for her patience with him.
He loves her for her willingness to be totally open with him.
And lastily, he loves her for her exquisite physical beauty.

He loves her but doesn’t know how to tell her …

She was in a relationship once.
The man led her to believe he loved her by acting out the qualities she looks for in a man:
He acted kind, considerate, romantic, caring, etc
He acted out those qualities until he felt it was time for him to enter her temple.
She wasn’t ready, he forced himself in anyway, showing his true intentions.
The one who loves her would be himself & tell her he loves her but now her guard is up against men who “possess” the qualities she seeks in a man.
How can the one who loves her tell her so?

She was in a relationship once.
The man led her to believe he loved her appearing to appreciate her qualities.
He told her a woman with her qualities is one he can love.
He kept up this appearance until the next physically attractive woman walked by.
He said hello to this woman, kicked some game, & ended up using two temples at the same time.
The one who loves her truly appreciates her qualities but he can’t tell her that’s a reason he loves her for she now has her guard up against men who appear to appreciate her qualities.
How can the one who loves her tell her so?

She was in a relationship once.
The man led her to believe he loved her by appearing to cherish the ground she walks on.
He showered her with lots of respect & tenderness.
Then came the stressful times or simply a bad day.
He then acted on his true brutish nature.
He routinely abused her physically & mentally.
The one who loves her truly cherishes the ground she walks on.
He would tell her as proof of his love for her but he can’t now that she has her guard up against men who appear to cherish the ground she walks on.
How can the one who loves her tell her so?

If the ways a man can tell a woman of his love for her have been used deceitfully in the past, how can a man who truly loves a woman tell her so?

Solar Flare

by Will Semo
Sunday, September 05, 2004

The sun burns
like a ball of fire
echoing something
so vast
that nobody
can explain it.
Not even me.

So...
Sun... you billion year old
fire star in the sky
melting...
the oldest thing ever
and yet always
growing...
flowing...
feeling new.

What makes you feel
so free to
pull me around
by your gravity.

What makes you feel
that you own me
when I'm my own
and I was on my own
before you were a twinkle
in the sky.

What makes you seer
light and brier
feel on fire
when I was the first
solar flare.

So...
Sun... what is your story
who made you and how
did you come to be
where you are now.
What God set you up there
so much higher than the I can see.
What lit your fuse.
What set you on fire.
What big bang set the stage
melting away...
this source of light.

I felt you on the
day I was born.
Your warm rays reaching
down to me.
Like something out of
a dream...
You opened my eyes
and shown the world to me
like only the sun can do.
And I wondered in awe
and still do.
How you big flowing free
limitless flame can
glow so brightly.
With radiation.

But the sun will not even
answer me when I ask.
But the sun not even
takes the time to emass
my words from negative
back down to positive.
But the sun is
and maybe always was.
And maybe always will be.
The light of reciprocity.

None Left Behind

by Will Semo
Wednesday, July 07, 2004

Black etched pale as smoke,
the dust clearing.
His eyes blank...
dark...
looking at something.
Something nobody else could see.
The twinkle in his eyes
for the things he'd never see.

A wince, he couldn't help it.
Hands bloody...
warm... feeling cold,
and the numb passage of time
three minutes into hell.
Hit.
His leg torn off... bleeding.
Accepting the pain.
Looking for something more.

Screams of pain.
And who will remember
this number...
this name.
This soldier... no...
man who died here today?
Who will take his last thoughts
to his family...
his daughter...
his wife.

His sacrifice.
Does it matter what it means?
Is death that much more than the life
we leave?
His whisper.
Another life lost over there.
Another name we've all seen.

But let us regard our mortality,
let it bring us to our knees.
The knowledge of this pain
is what true freedom frees.
Lets forget how he died.
Lets stand for his family
and pray for their needs.

A mind should be as pure as an ocean. No pollutants should be able to clutter what has been created by the Lord. The strongest waters are those which can not be captured by man. Let your waters flow as free. Free from the very essence of evil that destroys so many oceans. Then your soul is on that course which no heavy storm nor tidal wave will be strong enough to prevent what was heaven sent. Let your waters stay calm, still and strong don't let anything cause commotion. This is your ocean let it be crystal clear.

My Emotions Transcends Any Words That Could Ever Be Said

by DJ Gary B

I woke up this morning with you on my mind thinking of what to tell you before I run out of time

My emotions transcends any words that could ever be said

In the beginning, right now and till the end of time how I long to feel your warm breath upon my neck as you lay in my arms in my bed

My emotions transcends any words that could ever be said

We sat and we talked and I listened as you spoke talking about life and making jokes

My emotions transcends any words that could ever be said

We spoke of dreams and of promises that were broke and of painful memories that still hurt

My emotions transcends any words that could ever be said

War shoots at the core of my existence
Cuz we got weapons of mass destruction at the local café
Right next to red white and blue YMCA Rec centers
Fatigues tire me
And men in blue tote quiet machine guns to unsuspecting victims
Crack cocaine is the lullaby
Surfers/wiggers/tweakers/breakers/hustlers/players/
politicians and CEO’s
Rock on…
The president has gone out to play
Golf balls hit my favorite tree
And it has invisible lynch marks on it as ancestors watch on
Brown boys hang themselves with phat farm belts and cell phone chargers

Where have all the elders gone?

Pre pubescent shawties push baby carriages while they pop bubblegum and scoff at chipped nails
Babies come pre-disposed with heifer tendencies
Cuz mama grazed on government owned hormonal farms
13 gave her ironed new growth, hip-hop hips, C cup breast, BeyonceBritneyJlo booty and newly covered Scooby snack coochie
And folk, my folk, our folk, your folk laugh, point, stare, glare,
be furiously fumin’ at them B.E.T. clothes she wear
But…here’s the catch:
pops picked em out,
he be scout of all exotic clothing for HIS baby girl
pimp with the plan, curator of the seed, the reason for the bleed, daddy’s lil girl be doin’ homework after oral sex and u, we, us always ask
“ chald yo parents know u dressed like that?”
Elementary teachers sayin’ the world is not black and white but shades of gray
does that mean there’s no room for brown, for colors, for rainbows?

Where have all the elders gone?

Millennium kindergartners are clueless about big wheels
Half can’t tell you nuthin’ bout 2 plus 2
But 80 percent can school u on PS2
Books are on the endangered species list right next to world peace
In times of depression I ponder being a couch potato but
There is no more good television
Or maybe filling my frustrations with good but
McDonald’s fries are still the best but not like they used to be
Voodoo Princes I’m not but I been tryna conjure up a spell
For happiness
Yellin’ 108 mantras for 45 days
After I pray
Knees bare from THANK U JESUS when I’m able to crack a smile
I keep stirrin’ the pot but pieces of joy keep stickin’ to the bottom of the pan
Optimistic spatula already been reality melted down
Some rich robe wearin’ leaders be conservatively preachin’
Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy while they
make alter boy’s stay after
but I know a local headliner who gets no story leads…
father “Leroy Jones” don’t neva make the news although his lil shack in the village be savin’ souls on the daily
he don’t make alter boys stay after, cuz he makin’ alter calls
he be janitor by night
playin headphones songs of “Victory is mine….victory is mine…vic to ry today is mine…”
but u, we, us
don’t know who Brother Leroy is
cuz his donations come in the form of thanksgiving baskets
for his flock
or love offerins’ of OJT while doin’ OJP, ie; (on the job trainin’ while doin’ on the job prayin”)
and it’s not important that next door is a liquor store
cuz them cats on the corner are always there for Wednesday night Bible study
Where, where have all the elders gone?
Use to be chico stick, now o lator, later gater corner stores and miss Johnson would always
Peek out the door “baby, you on your way home cuz u know yo mama strict bout them street lights, now come get this sweet potato pie I cooked for ya Aunt Mackey’s funeral and tell e’rybody the Johnson’s send there love.”
aint no more elders doin’ that no more.
Hell, we don’t even know our neighbors
I don’t even know my neighbors
Do you even know your neighbors?
Who are your neighbors?

WHERE HAVE ALL THE ELDERS GONE?

*Copyright 2003 Stacey Renee Tolbert, the brown suga poet*

Y2K Jive
by Ngoma

Y2K Jive
rode in on the sound of my yidaki
like a dream
the year where facism thrives and nothing
is as it seems
as we suffer multiple realities
when souls leave the planet in magnitude
perhaps due to the attitude that allows death and destruction
as opposed to life and cooperation
a world turned upside down
where we are jailed by our liberators
inundated w/too many saviors
intent to bury their religion in our consciousness
creating fear of damnation
damaged by depleted uranium
as womyn give birth
to still born babies w/three eyes blind
Trapped by a veil of ignorance
from the 4th dimension
i believe in sound
though i can't see it in the darkness
as water turns to steam
my knowledge comes from the dogon star
so screw alice and her wonderland
earth's creatures give warnings of her changes
and we must learn to talk to owls and dolphins
and fear not change
for life is constant
overstanding never comes to the lazy
so mental push - ups are required
to comprehend this zen i'm in
but if u listen to the silence
then my light I'll send
experience the vibration of my didgeridoo