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.