 Children of The Complex
The consequence Of incarcerated daddies Felony Families Hush… Don’t let the neighbors hear Keep it under your tongue Like a razor blade When you’re on edge When you get the urge to reveal what you feel Talk about what? Closed mouths in the mirror breed A bit of confusion so to speak Like punishment For being For fleeing For seeing freedom Within reach The other side of the law Out Of time and money Honey something was funny Long before the door slammed shut Powerless To see the impotence To know how the system works Still fighting to reconcile the hurt Forgiveness was long ago But the body knows what it knows And somehow my insides Still writhe and slither From the truth The weight of The time when… Go ahead Try to process with the pen The dealings with silence The ways we learned to speak So as to hide To not define The shape of this... Big grief in little bodies Two times you come of age Once when the police knock Twice when you realize You thought it was normal day All along... The watchtower had a guard in it To make sure manhood was kept under wraps Overseer’s life in-tact So long as those melanated Can be held back Down For ransom No reason Just the season For catchin' niggas’ up Black Brown Close enough Degrees please What you thought it would solve? Smilin' and sayin' cheese Don’t make assumptions My life is a blessing Cobblestone roads With a terrain only I know Every drop I’ve earned The forgiveness The running Chasing that silence away Like a setting sun Falling to rise Love on all sides In and out Im talking about Coming of age In The Complex A different kind flex To survive the Prison Industrial Train Wreck But the body remembers What the mind Tries to forget The maintenance required To untether and become an outlier A rebel in motion Healing from Dealing with How we sit with our choices Many are called But few are Choiceless as an inmate Like stalemate I am praying to Re-awaken those feel-good genes The joy each chromosome brings As we silence the unworthy And tease out the trauma Maybe we can ease the drama Of the day The fight picked Cuz the ghost of less than Wouldn’t go away Children of the complex Not apartment An apart Meant to destroy A coming together Meant to unite The left and right The ups and downs My body knows So my soul gives it space Remember there’s no race Only time spent Where do the moments go? How am I flowing these days? Can I take responsibility Or do I blame it on the rain Streaming down the window The glass reminiscent Of the barrier between dad and us What mistrust was sewn with tiny hands Pressed against cold glass No one asked If I wanted to go Rewind the memory Of prison visits Full of necessary contraband Like ribs Greens Mac n’ cheese Not the extra bone given to Adam To make Eve But the kind you smoke The kind you eat The kind that makes you sit and think All that soul Can you count How many days You have left to go? Before release Or is it too many To burden the digits to carry The one was taken The sum was effected Redirected in blood That thing behind out laughter That heavy in our voice Was a choice made long ago To let go when necessary All too scary To hold onto Anything but you Children of The Complex In this text A testament To how we resurrect Love between the bars Between the scars and their fading I’ll give the stories to the stones Let them weather And chip away Better them than my shoulders New man be human Hold rock in hand And break away like Flint Turn these tainted waters Into tools of liberation Spread seeds across the nation And water Water Water The children It’s a different kinda flex When we survive We hold barbed wire To the neck Of the prison industrial complex
1 Comment
 There are still beautiful things
Like babies on the way Birthday candles being lit And lovers finding each other's hands under covers There are still beautiful things Like the $5 bills 'accidentally' dropped on the metro floor And the laughter shared with that stranger on the corner There are still beautiful things Like love letters And lunch with mom Nieces first job And backyard bbqs with cousins There are still beautiful things I woke up by myself But not alone I said I love you And thanked this breathing for yet another day It wasn't what I thought it would be It's better than I could have imagined And scarier than I want to admit But there are still beautiful things Like waterfalls And honesty Like plane rows to myself And sisters being set free Like babysitting Carter on Thursdays And papusas down the block There are still beautiful things Don't let this world fool you Mother loves you dearly Amidst the strife The trials and tribulations The violence and indignation Remember little boys With flowers in their hair And sunshine against your face Remember There are still beautiful things River RushingThere's a spirit in the River
Rushing to reach you Listen Rest deeply In the River bed With stone pillows And blankets of flowing water Let it swell and serenade you Surrender to its wisdom As it coaxes you from slumber Remember the Source of you And the natural course of you As the Spirit Rushes to reach you L I M I N A L I T Y Slipping between worlds
Fluid as light Warm as darkness Married to the threshold Divorcing time to make space Coming and going Freely flowing Into the unknowing Where only love keeps pace Night WalkingNight walking
When the city sleeps And the land breathes Pulsating Alive and wet Just like you The Empire’s pocket is full of posies, hiding the stench of plague, black death natural as breathing, the caging, murder and continued genocide of indigenous peoples. What exactly are ‘we’ trying to return to? Un-numb yourself. Re-sensitize yourself. Sanitize the mind. Take a deep breath and brace yourself for the truth your body has been trying to tell you. You already know your spirit has been hip to it, we couldn’t stop buying, eating, fucking, scrolling, talking, lying, trying...oh the trying.
Let the masks fall. Are you tired of the labels? I’m exhausted. I want to let them go, the black, the woman, and the raw data manipulated to fit the stats. I see the ground that appears so solid under our feet is no more than a pile of crumbling rock. At the edge, where our hands grasp one another, should we slip and fall what awaits us at the bottom of that cliff? How de we stand on our own backs? If I wait for the tide to rise maybe we can release and jump together, meet the shore and its humbling with intention. Let’s walk into the water knowing, if nothing else, we told the truth. Maybe it would be better to die and be reborn together, than to remain under the illusion we live alone. She sat squarely
Shoulders heavy And regal with regret She donned the tassel Frozen with fear She posed And she posed Until her original posture Was unclear Running from the ghost Of his words Anger is a cancer Resentment is a killer It was all her fault they said It was the things in her head That made her belly big That began to break her will to live Not the abuse The neglect Or lack of paycheck Just her thoughts they said She loved the smell of gasoline She let it light her insides And in her most peaceful dreams She swims in a sea of crude oil To say all the words She couldn't speak Like fuck you Pay me Turn your gaze from me Take your foot off my neck And your hand out my pocket Peel your lips from my ear drum And all the words You tried to beat On my soul I have broken down To break free She wiggled free From the regal ropes Braided tightly On her rigid shoulders Freedom heavy as boulders Still lighter Than the anvil of silence That called her chest home She picked up the phone And even the dial tone Knew she was different Just by her breathing The receiver began receiving Her words like prayer Take my to my river Put me in my waters Bring me my pistol For the journey to her shores She knew Was surely littered with expectation Of her less than And those ready to fight her To the death For her life They had the gas But she was the match She lit a cigarette from her burning Tobacco smoking Feet bare Black and moving steady Truth in her right hand Like a shotgun ready To blast the past into its place In a white dress Unseen in a field of tall blue grass She could see nothing on her path And still her vision was clear The sound the grass made as it Crumpled and cracked under her weight Like the wind Her presence evident in what it affects Her footsteps like legacy Telling the story Of how we keep on living No trial or tribulation Will keep her from her shore Take me to my river Put me in my waters If we are but one drop of the ocean The ocean is but one drop of her quenching She remains unrelenting In her quest for liquid love Take me to my river Put me in my waters Close your eyes
Tell me what you see Written on the walls of your tomb Who tagged you? Be graphic about the graffiti that rests behind those lids Where does your pleasure live? 5,000 years of hidden treasure It is time to raid your own tomb Heal your own wound When ashes turn to dust All I ask Is to be wrapped tightly In memories of ecstasy No money or morality necessary The loneliness of the heart
Rivaled only by the lies of the mind Found In each other How do I encounter me? Wholly? Fully? Or pieced out of acceptance By a mindset of separation You have left me to know me I have been sent by the divine On the wind Mirror me Polish me And release me Back into this oneness Come home to me Return to your indigeneity This blackness Has left the light on And the door open for you Enter Come together And kneel with me For the ancestors Sing their praises Black body Become talisman Like amulet Signaling the way home It was nothing until we felt Until we saw And became through one another You called to me to manifest The edge of my understanding Dances with you Teach me To be me By being With the me in you Come black to me Come black to me Come black to me Follow the link to listen to the full track
soundcloud.com/enoore/6th-gear-a-question-for-the-people-remix |
AuthorI am a poet, for better or for worse. It is a way in my being that, ironically has no words. It is a way in my being that finds me when I, and helps me to, forget. I am a poet, for better or for worse. Archives
November 2021
|
RSS Feed