Still Here
I’m tired. Only because I know what this really means.
Listening to the highly disregarded as there is conversation about …more nothing.
No meaning. No card carrying. Just more cotton silently being picked.
And we wear the bags with pride, possessing not even the decency to be indignant.
I’m exhausted from wondering when the alignment will be right for the shift to occur.
But until then… until then, there will only be more rape and disempowerment.
I’ll hold my dick hoping not to get lynched in the meanwhile.
Because we will be niggas until we collectively decide to be…*frustrated sigh*
Can We? Resist. Lament. Rage. In Cage?
My friend is afraid of the water, the air and the stare--so where will she find the gall to say:
“fuck you, I’m not your slave!”?
Not in Essence, or on Oprah, or at Berkeley. We are industrial.
You’ve been programmed. Wake up. We miss you. Why are you/we still here?
In Memoriam: Martin Luther the Kang, Andy Palacio.
About Me
- fidel.negro
- i am a child of the cosmos' last dysfunction, traversin' the physical under spiritual assumptions, searchin' for the balance, while preparing for my next life.
Razones
(l-r): Nina Simone, Jean Dominique, Fela Kuti, Linton Kwesi Johnson, Carlos "Patato" Valdez, Mary Fields
Vamos a Headnod!
4 comments:
"Just more cotton silently being picked."
Hit me like a bag of nickels.
i like it when yall are militant. where have all the cowboys gone? ;-)
@fallen angel: when we are militant? what does that mean? sounds spotty and occasional. the cowboys are here and there. riding figurative horses like black seminoles..how bout dem cowgirls?
@masterpeace: yeah. the silence is deafening. it is past time hermano.
This is soooooooooo deep:
But until then… until then, there will only be more rape and disempowerment.
I’ll hold my dick hoping not to get lynched in the meanwhile.
Because we will be niggas until we collectively decide to be…*frustrated sigh
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