Brothas' failing English when that's the only language they speak
mothers raising babies daddies bounce and they creep
Police pick a winner they can beat for the week
your niece gettin' beaten by the crack on the street
Politics and defeat, baller chicks in the seat
time will tell if all minorities
are becoming extinct, story told through my ink, I know I'll miss if I blink
everything my eyes can get an image of when I think
Then boom go the towers right before my own eyes
Can the president protect us from another surprise?
Attack, get back, because they're coming from the sky, and you
wonder why America is illegally gettin' high!
We rock nice kicks, cops rock night sticks, for all the world to see
You think you know what's going on because it's on tv
They only show you what they want you puppets to believe
So watch your back when you do thangs because BIG brother can see!

Jason Jemini Kakebeen

As moments bleed into one another
A perpetual motion blur
Blending the scenes
That bleach my soul

I pause to replay the messages
And press erase.
Remove the disc
That no longer
Frames the narrative
I wish to explore

tej

As I sit
Waiting
My hands, elbows bent
Hands held close to hide my face
They provide a mask
I ask the only God I’ve ever understood
To remove the weight
From my arms that hurt
Because of my hands
Because of the mask

a.

I maintain my balance by rising up to this challenge
And start speaking.
With indigenous roots, I the Afro-Rican
Who’s coming from the West Coast
But I mean the West Coast of Africa
400 Years removed but not confused within the Diaspora
Where from Poet to Griot
I make my words flow
Afro-centric kinetic is how I place the Nomo,
My verbs give it a name as I explain this stylo
Writing them down between LA and San Francisco.

Non-exploiting colloquiums where tight rhymes become hymns
I’ll expedite this expedition so my Moms can wear gems.
No, I’m not trying to front like them Ballers
Because Big Willie status is the apparatus of the Consciousness-stallers
Delayed reaction thinkers. Like iceberg to ship sinkers.
Titanical sellouts on their knees kissing sphincters
But not the Dread of the New Sun, a Black child of the true One
Osaze reminds me, I’m not a Brother that has to run, son.

OH-SAY-CAN-YOU-SEE…
My Black ass pledging allegiance to a flag that’s becoming a blood stained rag
While the Pledge was written to celebrate the arrival of Columbus
With the slashing of tongues, a thousand bodies found hung in them trees
Lined up all across the fruited plain, where Corporate America is the looting-ness fool
Who’ll run up to slash your veins. If you let her, creep around too long in your hood
She’ll wanna open another liquor store and swear it’s all good.

So while we’re liquored up and blunted, our mental growth stunted
Our ignorant sons and daughters become America’s Most Wanted
So it’s FEE-FEE-TO-THE-FI-FI-TO-THE-FO-FO-TO-THE-FUM
Some of us claiming to keep it real by trying to keep it real dumb.
But I understand why some live their life to stay numb
Because when the government adds it subtracts the Soul
Just to hide the sum.
So should I sellout to go “Ka-Ching” when the day is done?
Osaze reminds me to breathe the Father and Son

tejah

thank
you
for
reaching
into
me
softly
illuminating
my
journey
to
you
guided
by
your
exquisite
hands
opening
freeing
words
written
uttered
to
permeate
me
with
reverie
of
conjuring
blissful
anticipation
of
you tomorrow
creating
memories
with
you
to
fill
me
today

lizette

under this moon
I'm lying...lit by your light
you don't know what I'm thinking
but I know...God knows....
I'm lying here under this moon...lit

Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Your birth reminds me

Have you noticed how
A sweet sigh seeps slowly from your sensuous lips
when hands hold on to uncombed hair
Harboring my heart within the solace of your soul
While a love longing to be perfect
lingers just as we love to linger
In the light air we breathe after we arrive
Bodies sometimes wet
Often loose, arms entwined
Always aware that we are perhaps another step closer
To what God intended

And as we continue on the path least worn
We carve our own
Willing to own
This illumination
This enlighten meant to linger
In the same way this finger
Lightly traces my name upon your glistening skin
Or have you yet to notice
How deeply within
You
...are
Me?

sowelle
11.01

The Institution of Ghettoism

Children unleashed - The home is broken
Twisted love - the web is woven
Electronical parents do their duties
Classrooms hold no learning for students

Beer, wine, and fine times
Has men and women mesmerized
Gangsters, drugs and gunshots rule
Children think that's kinda cool

Pimps and hustlers do their thang
Serving up nightmares and broken dreams
"this community continually devours broken lives"
The 1st and 15th are days of high

Toni Arnold
Columbus, OH

untitled

as tongues follow familiar licks and curls
dancing through the deepest corners of
our physical souls
i surrender myself
drowning in that single drop
of what some call
love

sowelle