Thursday, September 18, 2008

Poetry Session #1

During one of my routine treks through the viral infested jungles of YouTube, I came across this gem of Spoken Word, spoken and heard (you like that don't you!?) from and "urban" teen to other "urban" teens, respectively.

I must say that I was profoundly impressed and inspired to sit down and spill out a little of my self to be critiqued one (seeing that I don't have any subscribers yet).


I say I’m black because of my state of mind
A state of paranoia that makes me stay with kind (mine)
You always say you’re blind, to color
Every time I hear that line, I say, “Oh brother…this mutha--“
You see, I see color, texture and tone with twenty-twenty
In my sight is the white of the lint within pockets empty
I see green on the leaves and in the weaves of money
Which don’t grow on trees, indeed it seems funny
Still I need money to make my world go round
But the world sees only black and white, and I’m brown
See that’s my color and there are others like pink, peach and tan
Like the highest yellow to a hue that seems the darkest blue (damn)
Man, when it comes to skin tone it’s well known that from dark to light
Shades of brown can be found, but there is no black or white
Because white, is the absence of and black, the fullness of
And understand that the race of man can claim none of the above
So where’s the love, which covers a multitude of sins?
Please excuse, but screw the few, when is the multitude gonna win?
Look at my skin, then look within and see the Negro in me
The brother in he and the sister in she, African-American are we (?)
If you look clearly enough and deep enough, I think you’ll find
Black is not a color, it’s a state of mind
Found in the cognitive bent of the Talented Tenth
And seething within the underachieving (?) ninety percent
That constant pressure that tells us we can’t measure up to the hype
So some fall back to what we call black, forever stereotyped
While others break the mold and take a hold of that promise
Saying, “Forget what you’re told and what you know, because I’m this!”
Their faith, education, determination, and wits are their entourage
That was with them from the stoop to the house with a two car garage
That brother whose mind is stronger than his swagger
With that black mentality so sharp, he can spit daggers
He’s not a braggart, because his success is his hype man
Demanding his rights by taking the fight to the “white” man,
He’s not the thuggish type, but black means he can take it to the streets
Yet the truth is he’s from the burbs so he tries to stay discreet
And keep his head down with feet pumping at an above average pace
But black is what puts him in his place, not the color of his face
Which, is such a waste of personality, talent and skills
Because white only sees him as a token space to fill
And he’s an Oreo to the around the way brothers, you know, the others
But damn, calm down brothers because that brown brother
Can’t act black, since black is not an act, it’s a state of mind
And the notion so untrue that one’s hue is black, is so unkind
It sets us all back, further than those shows with Flava Flave
Or being Bobby Brown, TV clowns representing how black behaves
Oh behave, that’s not black because black is beautiful and proud
We’re just dark and lovely, swift and slow, quiet and loud
Reaching as high as the clouds and beyond the stars
And in this life no matter where we go, we know exactly who we are
Near or far, search the earth, uncover every secret place
Inquire the face of the nations and examine every race
Especially in the United States, because in the end you’ll find
That Black is not a color, black is a state of mind

Wow! I haven't written poetry for so long that I have forgotten how fun it is to turn expressions, emotions, and thoughts into beautifully arranged words.


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