Kindred Black Poetry

Sunrises and Sunsets

I was in the middle of something, I dont know if the sun was rising or setting at the time. I remember it was a beautiful day and it was not like any other day. This day was special. 

I sort or realized it when I woke up in the morning. I knew for certain that something was special about this day but it could have been the fact that I was in it. I lived to see another day and with that came opportunities to move forward in a Godly way. 

I was seeing God in everything and I was grateful. I saw nothing but opportunities in the sunrises and sunsets.

Spectre

You ever felt like something has been chasing you, a spectre, a grimly ghost that walks in a pattern that we recognize sometimes and at other times is totally eratic. We are the servants of God and all the while avoiding this fear. 

We are greater than we believe we are and we need to crank up the volume on what is truly possible, deafening and all the while holding praise as conquer and defeat our enemies. 

This is a chemical blend, brewed and baked in our own perspiration. We were indeed built for this and we thrive and persevere in darkness all the while carrying a light within us.

Kindred Black Poetry

I am a purveyor of kindred black poetry, I understand the value of it and the spark that flames inside each and every black poet. They do not recognize their value but I hold them to it. I am not a colonizer looking to gain while they lose. 

I am looking for the God in each and every one of us. We stand today as proud as any day and through any conflict to proclaim to the world that we stand strong and and voice freely as urban poets.

Black and Beloved

I was black and beloved from the beginning. I had memories of the person I was when I was born. I was lost in the world of being less and the truth of the matter is that the world as we know it wanted me to stay there. I was not comfortable in the belly of the beast so I learned to gnaw at its insides and all the while learning to lve the best version of me. 

I could say I was reborn but it never really felt like that. I was always the essence of something magical. I was stardust and made whole by  a supreme force and his wisdom courses through my veins. 

And once I realized that I was never the same. 

Full Blown Fit

I was in a full blown fit and the acid careesing and seeping from my jaw was there and bit by bit, spit by spit, I was lathering up into a frenzy. I was a h*e in church, listening to the word and all the time wondering if everyone was looking at me. My teeth seized up on my and I was almost a loss of words and hate filled the gap. 

Not the one between my teeth but the ones between the words I would say but I crossed that bridge about an hour ago. That is right around the time I woke up, I was in a cold sweat. I slept and still didnt forget. 

That shower was cold water and I was still hot. I want what is mine and my character flaw is that I want it all the time. When do I want it, now, now, now. 

Blacktastic

I know we were titans of all industry or should I say the best industry, the Earth. We mastered the harvesting and preservation of the land and with that the harvesting of ourselves. We are rich in culture and with time, we expand our influence. 

We operate at a vibrational frequency. If you are queit for any period of time and just pause, you can hear the Universe speaking directly to you.

You just have to be queit and breathe.

Cuddle Buddy

I dont think I have ever been a cuddle buddy, thats a struggle buddy. Thats leaving everything about you behind with another person and wondering exactly where you are in the relationship. Hitter quitter, that is another matter. 

I was still debasing myself in a way, I just didnt know any better. I still dont think I know any better. The tale just get old and you hope it gets wetter. 

But caution fills the cracks of time and mind. There is more thought exercised and less exercised on the exercise. No rubbing thighs and just the oil of the mind burning under its own friction and tales of love and lust closely resemble fiction. 

A ficticious story with ficticious name and you havent even met the level of a parable. 

Man, thats terrible.

I Got The Money, Honey

I got the money, honey. I got that juice and I put it in a spray bottle. Mist, mist, mist right the face and left spotlets on your skin. I could see your expression and I dont know if that is a forming grin or something leaning more to the side of anger. I was gaudy with it and I had to live with it. 

The world was mine and in time I would own everything, even my own soul. And I think at some point, I figured that is what was on the line. My soul was eating away at itself and it felt like I was losing something and gaining something else. 

The real question is what was I losing and what was I gaining. It was scary and the worst thing of it all is that I lost all the care in the world. 

Fame and Fortune

Fame and Fortune, I slapped both of those bi*ches. I knew something was up when we stood before the judge and they both got reduced 1 year production. I could feel my gums gnawing at my teeth and my saliva felt like slow acid. 

You could cook an egg on my head. I was already couting the years they gave me before they even started. I was constipating and getting filled up with gas. I could explode right now and literally jump 6 feet. I was buried in this mess and all because I trusted those two and the Gods to honest truth is that I knew better. I was speaking in code when I talked to them and I was the only other person in the room. 

I could feel the cell slam shut and in my gut I knew I laid trust in the wrong people. I should have followed my tribe and kept it real with them. But you have to chose your henchmen wisely or face a timely death and these words are spoken under by breath. 

I didnt want them to hear me. My ears were burnin...

Crimson Teeth

His crimson teeth wrapped my grief, he was oozing adrenaline from his eyes and fingernails and he remained fixed like a faulty turret. I could see his heart beating by the pulsating of his veins I could tell the messages from his brain to his extremeties were clear. He ran towards me covering more ground the closer he got.

He threw a haymaker which could also be known as sleep medicine. I could tell the state I was in and my eyes switched to tunnel vision. I could feel my hands switch to funnel vision and in that moment I was certain that curtains would be drawn and one of use would be left on the floor backstage. 

My foot slipped forward and my punch calmed his rage. I was punching and moving forward at the same time, my first were rhyming and I was playing a clever tune and he was in love with every punch I could see him swoon. 

I was objectively trying to finish but on my terms. I was all deli and his order was all knuckle sandwich. I co...