Just Me

Blind eyes kill the messenger,
quick tongues kill the questioner.
You question me?
For having real passion you can see?
You see, I can be
happy, with my own philosophy.
To get higher than any oak tree
with out the aid of weed, or LSD,
or contracting HIV
I can look in the mirror and see:
Hey, that's just me.

I'd really like to pour out some soul,
for Little Town, in my eye you put this
     little glow.
In hallways I like to act out,
because without fun I have all this clout.
The say Valium might fix it,
or I should chill and take a hit.
But I'll pass, because with that,
and a few tips of the glass,
I've seen too many artist crash.
So I know I've got a task.
But hey, that's just me.

I gave myself a green-light
because I have to stand in this fight
Just to have my own freedom.
See I've been called dumb,
and every other name under the sun.
Just because I'm black, dance, wear
     tight clothes
and everybody knows
the outside is really what shows.
See I've got this thing about my
     artistic expression.
On this stage, that box, this street corner,
     and my confession:
I think it's a blessing!
But hey, that's just me.

Addition to June 12, 2011's "Black Heron"

Living in a cloud of red,
white chariot shrouds
fake heavenly messenger.

Your conservative critics cease
to cover cases or close courts
that's the truest.

Glenn Beck will never be president
with Hannity at his side,
He needs a blue bull.

Bitter Christians cling to your
   guns,
But I, the happy Muslim
has his Quaran clutched to his chest.
Jihad Al-Sorah, GOP.

I'm not a man of numbers,
I'm a man of words,
cause words I can count on,
to tell  tales of fails & passes
of pips & glasses
of the individual & the masses
of hordes of Rasta men in the street
    singing:
"Deliver me Jah, my father!"

We raise our fist-
no more for violence-
but so we can take...
one...
     step...
          at a...
               time...
                    forward.

Control pt.1

I've never had dust, only lust in my eyes
So when porn became an addiction, it came as no surprise
Now, no I never had withdrawals from it
But physical pain is not the definition of addiction
So, even though I wasn't hurting, I was replacing my God with skin
But You are outside of skin and bones
So why can't I be when I'm home alone?
Just one click of the mouse and my soul
Has another tiny piece of itself torn off and thrown into the mud
I want to shed this body, but I'm only shedding blood
And this spirit's gonna bleed out soon, I just know it!
And there's no doubt in my mind that I love God, so why can't I show it?
Because I'm weak
And I'm getting weaker everyday
Because no matter how bad I want things to change,
I don't want to change
Because underneath it all I just want it to be okay
I want God to look down at me and say
"Whatever you want to do, you can."
But He's not
He's weeping and asking why I keep putting these nails in His hands
As if all of society hanging on to His feet wasn't enough
I have the audacity to smile and write about His love
Then cut myself open and bleed out His blood
All because I can't control my own lust
This is pathetic
How can He love this mistake He created
When all I can do is look in the mirror and hate it
As poisonous words leak from my mouth
And murderous acts leap from my hands
How can I stand here and call myself a man of God?
I can't
Honesty forces me to admit my identity
I am a sickness hoping to be healed
Because unless all of me dies, none of me is real.

Dim the Lights

Dim the lights
Until shadows engulf the faces of everyone
So that I can't tell they aren't me
Because if we lived in a world where no one could see,
Maybe we'd close our eyes and finally see
The pain and joy and truth of our "friends"
'Cause right now I don't see them, I just see skin
Blanketed in styles and meaningless trends
(I, myself, am blanketed in meaningless sins!)
I want to be the Man Without Fear
But it's so hard when my eyes control my ears
See, when the pretty girl talks, she's all I can hear
And like a man hearing a siren, I jump from the pier
But beauty is not skin deep!
Quite the opposite, actually
Skin has the limitation of only being pretty
Because only things of God have the gift of true beauty
This includes sacrifice and selflessness and love
So I'm bathing in gasoline and shedding my own blood
But when it comes time to light the match I panic
"Of course I love You, God, I've just got a better plan it
Leaves me broken, but still covered in flesh
(That flesh will be important when I'm having adulterous sex)
So can't we just try my way, You can still come along?"
You hang Your head, but never leave me alone
Why don't You leave me alone!
It's what I deserve
To lie in my filth and self-inflicted hurt
But instead You give me music and clouds and words
And a body and my parents and a family
And You
You give me Yourself!
Which is more than I have ever done for You!
So blind me, because I'm blind already
And these eyes in my skull are getting so heavy
That they're anchoring me to this Earth that You
Made for me to float away from.

Courric Jazz

Papa's deep, soft story
and mother's piano lullaby lull me.
But Pearl alarm clock and brother sax
are a stirring nuisance.

Sing on mama, sing!
and let sister flute tweet a
    sweet
         harmony.
Back papa's richness
so my dreams are intrigued.

As I push the snooze button,
and alarms melt to fleeting rain
soothing rain against my window.

Black Heron

Absurdity is not what you've seen
but what I've heard
and what still gleans
in my minds eye.
Frightened children disturbed
without a mother.
And a son at 219 with no father.
A head on a marines stick can't compare
to the hungry bellies and dirty needles
that fill the veins and minds of those he oppressed.
A lousy crap shoot left cousins on Crenshaw
as former kin climbed the crack costumers
conceived ladders.
As in our own county i co-opted into college.

Jihad is the whore of holy wars.
(the truly internal conflict of
God's truly UN-infernal servants.)
And she is smacked repeatedly,
until the brown face is streaked with red,
darkens to blue,
and is bandaged with white,
The doctor is a bastard,
that heals her but leaves
her crack addict sister a across Sinai
to bleed.

Absurd is fathers fucking daughters,
and 12 year olds with their Gats
at mothers throat.
Digging comic book villains as bad guys,
while Marvel mean them to illustrate
N.Y., L.A., and D.C.
P.D.
The Sly FOX asks "whats freedom?"
Freedom is the pen!
Freedom is the mind!
Freedom is your bottle!
Freedom is your pipe!
Freedom,
is the flight of the black Heron.

Rest in Peace
Gil-Scot Heron
April 1, 1949-May 27, 2011

What Does that Make Me?

Peter, don't You know that rocks sink in water?
You must have forgotten when you jumped off the boat.
I have faith but I walk on land,
Hand in hand with a security rope.
I keep giving Him dirt, but He keeps giving me flowers
And hiding the water behind His back
Then I scream nonsense from my Babylonian tower
Then sneak away and try to grow my own plants.

You are my anchor, but You are my ship?
Every second this makes less and less sense.
And You are the captain, but You need no crew
And You are the sails (and the winds that blow them too!)
So what does that make me? What else is left?
Perhaps I'm a rat, creeping below the deck.