I make sacrifices to support my vices

So I'm the most paid but I ain't the nicest

Could go either way by the time that light hit

Talkin sunrise cause we own the night bitch

If I fucked your man you can bet he liked it

Prolly got in his feelings prolly tried to wife it

Meanwhile hearing rumors like "she's a dike bitch"

Flirt wit black hoes but only fucks a white bitch

They prolly right bitch Cmon hit the lights

Turn it up a notch cuz my fit lookin rite

Let these Google eye niggas and bitches bear witness

To the diva misses hittin the entrance like a vision

But uhhhhhhhh back to the lesson at hand let's get this money

But being real take a whole lot of shit that aint money

So niggas funny thinking caking make em legit

But a ain't shit nigga wit money still ain't shit

she blooms

She--She meaning her not me--is reaching for the sky, there's a life in her petals like a twinkle in the eye, a Destiny. She stayed in faith..... She was just a seedling to whom no one attended cast carelessy into the wilderness with no worry or care if it would survive, but this seedling thrived. The surface may have been scratched but that seedling still cracked and sprouted it's roots. Alone in the darkness looking for the light,  knowing there are two choices for her-----die or fight, she gathered her strength. Alone she was not strong enough, but everything living has a little God in us so she listened to that voice. "Have faith" it told her, "have patience" it said, "go up....go slow"....so....she moved ahead. In the darkness of the earth it must have been hard to believe that just a few feet above her was the brilliant sun,  the rain, the comforting breeze, but she pressed on. Finding a joy in her struggle gaining strength along the way saying "that was a 1/2 inch last night, i think ill try an inch today!".  People walked above her completely unaware of the work this would be beauty had to bear, they dropped their refuse some even spit and while she thirsted for air. within the earth beside her were other seeds, some who refuse to sprout, some growing sideways all wanting to make it out. They mocked her for hoping, they mocked her for trying like "grow up?!? That's not the way" , but those seeds were slowly dying, for more than lack of hope.

the sleeping giant

Black man step up and reclaim your throne as the leaders of this world.
Submit to the will of your creator and harness the power of God. Let your voice roar with the strength of a pride 10,000 strong. Resurrect the spirit of Malcom, Marcus, Nat Turner, and Bobby Seal. Be not afraid of death for I stand with you proud lioness claws sharpened growling teeth exposed. Tell the children we are here. Take command of this unit as is your birth right, and watch us rule in peace and prosperity. Release the words planted in your subconscious that have kept you unaware, know that this cage is only mental. Be brave enough to trust the instinct of your DNA. Be bold enough to declare your own borders and build your own dwelling. Seperate from that which is meant to destroy you. Beg not for soup from another man's table, he who poisons the scraps he throws to the floor in your direction, instead hunt as the beast you are and take for prey what you desire. Do not allow yourself to become extinct, do not buckle at the sight of bloodshed. March with the infinite power of your creator for if he is with you of whom should you be afraid? Even the mighty giant Goliath met his death by one small stone. So go, find the highest mountain plant your feet firmly upon it , shake vigorously your mane, lean back your shoulder, touching chin to chest open your mouth and release the battle cry, roar my king , sound the horns that crumbled the walls of Jericho, sound the trumpet of the Gideon, sound the trumpet of Zion.

on that Whitney #googlelyrics #thegreatestlove

The children are hurting they need to be helped, a missile with no guidance can't redirect itself. The children are hurting they need to be free, they are trapped in a system that is sick with disease. The children are hurting they need to be shown all the lessons we learned the hard way, on our way to being grown. The children are hurting they need to be taught that money is a necessary illusion as self worth cant be bought. The children are hurting they hate their own beauty blinded by the constant subconscious assault on thier image prevelant in all forms of media and entertainment that underlies thier acted but unspoken insecurities. The children are hurting they need to be saved......no they need to be trained. Trained not to fear opposition or fear opposing a system who's source is a discourse in traditions designed without even our voice or opinions, go ahead---recount the vote. So quote this #blacklivesmatter #alllivesmatter to me especially since I have comforted mourning mothers--I've got brothers and i don't want a traffic stop, a soda pop, or ice tea as the case may be to be a precursor to a grave. The children are hurting they need to be groomed, not just by a household but by a community. .....you....me....she....he....him....her.....us.....we.....u-n-i-t-y......u-n-i-fied, you and i got to try to mold these young inquisitive minds into the kinds of people we need in our tomorrows.  United amongst themselves and focused enough to do something else besides loot the stores for European hair extensions that are somehow the most important thing to acquire in a riot situation where you are being attacked and pepper sprayed but you got them three packs of peruvian in your shirt so you can slay them all next week. We gotta speak words of encouragement at the same time give direction without trying to pick one for them. And right now if all them babies could do is burn everything--not having any other way to release pain and pent up anger, fear, clear and present danger of being murdered without satisfactory reprecussions---then support them. If for nothing else back them up for being bold enough to do what you cant do or wont do but at some point might be the only way to get things done, if history is indeed repetitive. We have arrived at a teaching moment in time and we need to give that missile a navigation system

Stars & Stripes

Regardless I was born here and i will most likely die here, i am an American by definition. Now -- lets celebrate this harlot's anniversary of victory in bloodshed that allows us the freedom to exist in this capitalistic ethnically biased institutionally corrupt he who has the gold makes the rules he who has the gold controls the news he who mines the gold sings the blues, regentrificated sexually inundated gold plated the illuminati and the unilluminated the 1 % thats shady the 85 % thats lazy genetically modified babies your eden or your hades depending on your paygrade, sex drugs money alcohol tobacco firearms atom bombs corpses of the Apache rotting in the catacombs, we trample on your whole existence if there's any resistance to our policies, insurgents are disposed of even if not properly, bombs over Bagdad hastag war on terror hastag operation iraqi freedom they aint learn from the Japanese they must be dumb. we police them but our police. . . . um, tactically trained malitias with intentions to subdue not serving anyone shooting to protect themselves from you, bloody Sunday, branded with R's for runaways, those before your mother's mothers days, big house bought bodies and a whole lotta mulatto babies, who grew up to shuck and jive and since somebody would buy the sounds of that loveliness, Clive gave you a stage and held on to your publishing, situational rape but thats some other shit, cause others get greeted at our gates with no hellos but hails of gunfire for attempting to enter into invisible walls that mark false property lines designed to suit us better, scarlet lettered adulterous woman born of the filth discarded by a previous regime, born of the blood of the indigenous, born of the sweat of the implanted,  all you have given birth to is tainted and vile. Meanwhile i would be a visitor in a strange land were i to be anywhere else. There are bloodlines entertwined with death tears and years those before me have paid the escroll on this real estate making my claim equal to any other.  Regardless i was born here and i will most likely die here, i am an American by definition. Happy Independence day #fourthofjuly

The greeting

Touch me............hold me.........press my skin against your skin. Tickle my neck with your warm exhales in a still moment of tranquility allowing energies to entertwine and i inhale from behind your ear. Embrace me with your spirit as we stand hip to hip chakras aligned.....Kun-Da-Li-Ni...Rise........explore the terrain slowly freely free me from my own thoughts squeeze me release me by our bodies never part.....it is an art.......Picasso, Salvador, Basquiat. Press your lips to mine, saliva--white wine intoxicate my viens as the flush rushes to my skin......breathe out......breathe in........whisper loving thoughts in vulgar inappropriate words placing hands on appropriate curves and grip......bite.....tease......lead........

the apple

When it comes to him my mind gets murky emotions get muddled in a mental purgatory somewhere between love and hate, I hate to love but love to hate, wait that's not right......When it comes to him I despise and desire the same thing confused at the duality of my sane brain cause it's a strange thing when snow white desires the euphoria of the same opiate intended to steal her life, love kills slow, so engulfed in the high not realizing she sleeps and times passes lookin at hell with rose colored glasses flashes of reality and steps in ashes, he dwells there, in the pits of his own insecurity unsurerity and doubt too afraid to admit desire so he chooses to do without, salvation comes in many forms love inspires us to be better soaring to new heights but only for those brave enuff to take the leap---yet he who hesitates at the cliffs often slips into the ravine, he dwells there, alone in fermenting pain of his own soul bruises and cuts from previous jumps but he still, secretly, wishes to feel the freedom of flight, at night he stares at the walls confined by gravity alone with his thoughts--alone with his heart---alone with his want---cinematic memories taunt him at the hours of true solitude pretending his problems are external the reason for his shifting moods, he is a fool tormented by his own stupidy or prisoner of his own caution, often I think the mask we create for acception often increase the deception to the point where we fool our selves, thank goodness Adam ain't have that when Eve bit he said pass that,even against god he gotta be where his other half at, but these days nobody wants ribs, niggas like chicken..... Until that's all there  is to eat, When it comes to him he owns a piece of my soul, I demand it back he tightens his hold he loves me like an infection a kiss to prick the skin then it bubbles and it grows and starts spreading like a fire from within he knows this and uses it as a weapon, silently I am aroused at his arrogance outwardly appearing unaffected. that kiss is the mark of death i am now a wounded gazelle straggling on the serringehti  at sundown ..... Yet I find myself looking up at him from a place of passion asking how did I get here??....again?? He asking self the same, in a silent moment baring naked flesh face to face chest to chest hip to hip.......we breathe.......a phone rings.......When it comes to him I see all that is good and bad in myself multiplied by age  divided experience and complicated by lies,  we had enuff tries we had enuff goodbyes but we never had enuff "us" cause he had too many "I "s regret is a cancer the answer to an empty hole in the soul created or inflicted by not being brave enough to be your best in a moment life calls you to do so