Melting Pot

Life is a tug-of-war

between the path

of the ancestors

and that of our future.

We must understand

where the ancestors came from,

where they fell short,

and why we intersected with them.

We inherit a deep patterning,

one rich with experience

and knowledge

and shortcomings.

We layer onto that

our own aspirations,

addiced to

our inherited cycles of suffering,

unconscious of the reasons

we fall short.

The answer is in our cells,

nothing more than bars

which are to our eyes

as vampires are to sunlight.

We must honor both paths

with enough rope

to avoid placing ourselves

on a rack for the soul.

Some of us must

heal inherited wounds

and create an ancestral dialogue

to head out on a new path.

This comes through

the incorporation

of the sacred.

It may be as simple as

washing hands or feet,

giving thanks

or service,

contenplative stillness

or something more interactive.

The healing of cellular wounds

is not an intellectual inquiry,

but rather begins with

an acceptance of our

inability to know.

How can you

make a delicious meal

without knowing

the ingredients?

Put The Screen Down

Black kids dropping like leaves in the Fall

If they ain't dead sweep 'em into a stall

Easily thrown away if you crush soul to a ball

But that don't matter 'til it comes to touch y'all



Look around, gun violence in the CHI everyday

Silent sandpits and jungle gyms, nobody to play

Better news, look like yous' and rockin' AK

'Cause our government's been bought by the NRA



Enfranchised whiny bitches want else to blame

When the root of your problems is a fucking shame

Chin down, shoulders slouched, I don't feel bad for you mane

Cause the truth of it all is you suffer from lame



Put down the mouse and keyboard it's 3 at night

And you ain't disenfranchised, you're a whiny ass white,

Go outside, get some sun, meet some people and might,

Realize it's yourself that your trying to fight.