After the Storm Read online



  Acknowledgements

  Thank God for the talent, mind and soul.

  Mom and Dad for the nurturing, morals, intellect and insight.

  Keith Rogers for the vision.

  Friends and family for the undying support.

  BackTalk! poetry troupe for the movement.

  contents

  genesis

  the faces of our forefathers

  generation Y?

  parade of fools

  slime like you (for Sean Bell)

 

  trapped

  insomnia

  spring cleaning

  reality check

  until dawn

  memory’s bliss

  the wall

  sick & tired

  for the jena 6

  work shit (remix)

  I dare you

  after the storm

  Genesis

  emerge within the light,

  from the river of life to where love lives.

  reach for the nurturing sun.

  the darkness holds tight.

  genetic punishment

  for past lives past deeds.

  saplings must awake the subconscious conscience,

  diminish conscious resistance,

  learn wrong from right and grow second sight.

  to recognize the budding flower,

  and feel the warmth of its aura,

  find an oracle to answer questions about day and night.

  and why seasons age and die,

  as good and evil commit the left and right hands

  into a lifelong fight.

  why love and hate are born,

  twin siblings with opposing intentions.

  invention--the zygote of necessity must reach for new heights.

  in the hall of mirrors, past reflections shimmer like a rainbow.

  optical confusions that invite esteem and ego,

  on quests for the truth of self.

  walking paths of spiritual might,

  strength drains and reality becomes a dream,

  or nightmare, of the death of questions of perception.

  black or white?

  unity is the essence and the absence,

  and the final reason we return into the light…

  The Faces of Our Forefathers

  Talk this way

  Walk this way

  Do as the massas’ say...

  Might is right

  White is right

  So by these rules we play...

  Go to school

  View the tools

  That are used to oppress...

  Play the fool

  Act as mules

  Change the way you dress...

  Live for this world

  Ignore plans unfurled

  Keep your hair uncurled...

  Pray to the Lord

  Only when you’re bored

  With what’s on TV...

  Are you free

  If you choose not to see

  Jail bars made out of gold?

  Bought and sold

  But never told

  To step out of the mold...

  It’s just too bad

  That no one’s mad

  Enough to take what they’ve never had...

  As we forget the past

  And the millions they’ve harassed

  Wondering why we’re so sad...

  The descendants of kings

  Now chasing the same things

  That led to their demise...

  Faith in lies

  Missing our piece of the pies

  Divided right before our eyes...

  We’ve been kicked when we were down

  Now we’re used to the ground

  No longer reaching to the skies...

  Living for the lowest highs

  With no will left to try

  Dying as our forefather’s cry

  Generation Y?

  Labeled as slackers and punk pistol packers

  A generation of kids who have forgotten laughter

  From seeing torrid tears of pain stain all that still remain

  Those simple and plain caught up in the game…

  For every step forward take 365 steps back

  Hooked on the rack of sex, crack, and dime sacks

  Broken by the streets, with no shoes on their feet

  Beaten by defeat and left weak, they take their seats…

  At the back of the bus waiting for the end of the line

  Learned to count to nine waiting for the seventh sign

  If it weren’t for the common people, life wouldn’t make sense

  As poli-tricktions get rich collecting their welfare rents…

  Swimming against time, layers of lies, and slime

  Searching to find tomorrow’s answers to today’s crimes

  Every day the world shrinks through network links

  Downloading tainted drinks in sinks drifting closer to the brink…