The repulsive radiance of
Monitors
Monitored by IT to keep
You on
The treadmill.
They pay you
The same
Every
Calendar time.
They task you with
Distance
But hold you to
Minutes
King Solomon
Would be proud
To keep myself
There
I would have to
Cut out a part
Of myself
But I showed
I was
My own
Owner
We agreed on
The race
But
They assumed that
My pace
Wouldn’t knock over
The pyramid
Of sand
Before it was time
Just pretend to
Be
Busy
Like all the rest
But I wouldn’t
Trade myself in
I tried staying
In the chair
To stare
At
That glare
Feeling as my ancestors did
When
In the presence of a starving lion
You can’t placate it
With anything but food
The lion in me
Fed on purpose
And
Sunlight in the pupils.
Saturday, July 13, 2019
Monday, April 29, 2019
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?
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.
Wednesday, January 9, 2019
Let Your Wounds Heal
I told them you've got to give your wounds air or they will fester.
But they live in the swamp.
Densely packed with potential predator hiding spots.
Ready position up at all times.
Their neck got tired of sweeping the floor so they put eyes and snakes on it in a bluffing display butterflies would blush at.
It buys them the second take of predators but doesn't always work so they build walls.
I told them you've got to give your wounds air or they will fester.
They paint themselves with a cloud of loud music, telling the world they are as serious as the song sounds.
They dance along the street, winding a circular line-in-the-air with their swirling arms.
With a serpentine stroll and the torso of a toy soldier, they paint their chin up to the sky, dangling their throat into public, daring someone to call it a vulnerability.
The walking equivalent of sleeping with one eye open.
I told them you've got to give your wounds air or they will fester.
Subconscious survival strategies stifle real strength.
Even the snake on their neck should be able to stretch out every once in a while.
They shed their skin and bear a fresh novelty to the world.
I told them you've got to give your wounds air or they will fester.
May they find the time and safe space to take that leap
from the thirty-thousand-foot-view into the unknown
other side of their walls,
giving a parachute to their free-falling inner trooper
so they can
show themselves
the compassion
to switch out
of
sympathetic mode.
But they live in the swamp.
Densely packed with potential predator hiding spots.
Ready position up at all times.
Their neck got tired of sweeping the floor so they put eyes and snakes on it in a bluffing display butterflies would blush at.
It buys them the second take of predators but doesn't always work so they build walls.
I told them you've got to give your wounds air or they will fester.
They paint themselves with a cloud of loud music, telling the world they are as serious as the song sounds.
They dance along the street, winding a circular line-in-the-air with their swirling arms.
With a serpentine stroll and the torso of a toy soldier, they paint their chin up to the sky, dangling their throat into public, daring someone to call it a vulnerability.
The walking equivalent of sleeping with one eye open.
I told them you've got to give your wounds air or they will fester.
Subconscious survival strategies stifle real strength.
Even the snake on their neck should be able to stretch out every once in a while.
They shed their skin and bear a fresh novelty to the world.
I told them you've got to give your wounds air or they will fester.
May they find the time and safe space to take that leap
from the thirty-thousand-foot-view into the unknown
other side of their walls,
giving a parachute to their free-falling inner trooper
so they can
show themselves
the compassion
to switch out
of
sympathetic mode.
Friday, December 14, 2018
You Must Choose or Be the Past or Future
A million moments a day lie awake at their twilight beckoning a second glace
Linger and soak in them for a minuscule moment more
Humming deep in your throat like a favorite childhood snack
Releasing the invisible ink with which you write your story.
Our pause button,
A deliberate deja-vouz,
Stretching a moment into infinity and
Tapping into the endless potential peace
Sitting in a moment the end of a deep breath out.
It's there
A Million Times a Day.
Linger and soak in them for a minuscule moment more
Humming deep in your throat like a favorite childhood snack
Releasing the invisible ink with which you write your story.
Our pause button,
A deliberate deja-vouz,
Stretching a moment into infinity and
Tapping into the endless potential peace
Sitting in a moment the end of a deep breath out.
It's there
A Million Times a Day.
Reliable Ally Guy
Impunity or immunity none of this shit is new to me
Born with a tint of privilege hard to feel what they do to thee
Not a threat, you can bet, even might call a vet,
Cause I'm the white one here, no joke and yet
These fucking pigs roll up burning holes in the scene
Kids and parents in class not a dash of mean
Could've hopped out in half a breath
And it'd be heavy shit, talkin life or death
If a Nazi rolls up I know what to do
Cause they'll kill my ass for being a Jew
But I have to travel far by distance or date
Before I'm getting killed with support of the state
So here on my soil it makes it hard to relate
Now I might ignore the protector and serve
Or get huffy and puffy about their arrogant nerve
But this shit is different I can't taste the flavor
They're serving black people, even my neighbors
Pull over, lay down, hands up in line like a train
Don't matter, concrete is splattered with your brain
So how to relate when the pigs roll up
Diffuse with my privilege or shut the fuck up
Looks like me and my neighbors have some talking to do
So I can be helpful in seeing this through.
Born with a tint of privilege hard to feel what they do to thee
Not a threat, you can bet, even might call a vet,
Cause I'm the white one here, no joke and yet
These fucking pigs roll up burning holes in the scene
Kids and parents in class not a dash of mean
Could've hopped out in half a breath
And it'd be heavy shit, talkin life or death
If a Nazi rolls up I know what to do
Cause they'll kill my ass for being a Jew
But I have to travel far by distance or date
Before I'm getting killed with support of the state
So here on my soil it makes it hard to relate
Now I might ignore the protector and serve
Or get huffy and puffy about their arrogant nerve
But this shit is different I can't taste the flavor
They're serving black people, even my neighbors
Pull over, lay down, hands up in line like a train
Don't matter, concrete is splattered with your brain
So how to relate when the pigs roll up
Diffuse with my privilege or shut the fuck up
Looks like me and my neighbors have some talking to do
So I can be helpful in seeing this through.
Ous Striving for Us
Ous Shihan
Ous!
Don't take the bus Shihan
Fuss!
Black and Whites outside Shihan
Don't trust!
Blacks and white inside Shihan
That's us!
Shared moments
Divergent paths funneling together
Deep respect and yet
I can swim toward the sharks without regret
Triggers pulled from a box buried deep below
A box planted by a young child trying to grow
In a racist world full of false division
A box overrides intellect, experience or vision
With no possible chance of going to prison
It kicks on with sympathetic but shows no compassion
A four letter F-word it don't describe passion
No this is the flip side four letters past D
And this box is buried too deep to see
It doesn't even matter if you try to flee
Hands up, Hands up, he even put up his heel,
Hands up, Hands up, hands on the steering wheel,
Don't Shoot, Don't Shoot, he's unarmed and innocent,
Don't Shoot, Don't Shoot, this life is not yet spent.
Officer, Officer, take a breath what you're seeing
It's me, it's me, another human being
Just take yourself to a secure and safe place
Do not terminate don't make it a race
I know society won't think that it's right
But if you approach I have no choice but to fight
Officer, officer, can you hear?
That voice in your head, it's nothing but FEAR.
Ous!
Don't take the bus Shihan
Fuss!
Black and Whites outside Shihan
Don't trust!
Blacks and white inside Shihan
That's us!
Shared moments
Divergent paths funneling together
Deep respect and yet
I can swim toward the sharks without regret
Triggers pulled from a box buried deep below
A box planted by a young child trying to grow
In a racist world full of false division
A box overrides intellect, experience or vision
With no possible chance of going to prison
It kicks on with sympathetic but shows no compassion
A four letter F-word it don't describe passion
No this is the flip side four letters past D
And this box is buried too deep to see
It doesn't even matter if you try to flee
Hands up, Hands up, he even put up his heel,
Hands up, Hands up, hands on the steering wheel,
Don't Shoot, Don't Shoot, he's unarmed and innocent,
Don't Shoot, Don't Shoot, this life is not yet spent.
Officer, Officer, take a breath what you're seeing
It's me, it's me, another human being
Just take yourself to a secure and safe place
Do not terminate don't make it a race
I know society won't think that it's right
But if you approach I have no choice but to fight
Officer, officer, can you hear?
That voice in your head, it's nothing but FEAR.
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