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Thursday, March 3, 2011

Watering Our Roots

[a "the radio did me wrong" poem]


life without music
is like a heart that stutters to the tone of silence
mute
deaf to rhythmic pleasures
nothing to yin yang the balance
treble to notes yet unfounded
product of auto-tune
we dance to the splintered mundane
toast to the ill-advised
coon for watermelon rines of treasures labeled epic pastimes
remixed the wade in the water
to shallow hums of a spat on future
tepid saliva
be-boxing
turning culture to a hip-hopped whitewashed drum cadence
whipping hair back and forth
at the expense of Kunta's spine
blood drops compose the song of failure
where all of our children's children will know the lyrics and never the meaning
because we stopped watering our roots
tar baby molasses
the image glued to our retinas as ramification
for the three count
two-stepped
shucked jive used to survive
thanks to a forgotten 40-acre and a mule compromise
naming offspring synonyms of reparations unseen
"Lexus Freedom Jackson"
shall continue to be a dream deferred
because we have stopped watering our roots
wombs looming lies
bench warrant pride
maelstrom cacophony
conducted by our hands
blaming a master plan for the outcome of settled mediocrity
as new age entrepreneurs
we've taken to lynching ourselves
goals dangle on looped dry branches
once they've snapped
fall short
back to the block where it all began
auctioneer to oral tradition
no longer resembles the white stranger
that pan-handled our sanctity between great grands legs
why would she always cum?
secretions of her golden valor atop his dick
now adorned in rappers delight
the residue worn around one's neck
chains
locked gold
attained via the bend and fold of greenbacks
flatbacked for less than we're worth
all because we stopped watering our roots
where the ting-ting of cash registers
ring-ring our compasses to the bling-bling
equated with success at the expense of the soul
there's no check large enough to clear on its behalf
but with bass beats and syncopated quarter notes
history is buried
without proper funeral
procession music decrescendos
its true voice
now a half composition-ed overture
pauper graved
could have been avoided
if we hadn't stopped watering our roots

10 comments:

  1. I like the encouragement to water our roots - good for the soul. We often do not pay enough attention to what is truly being said in what we ingest in our soul streams with music and words, sometimes at the expense of a quiet acceptance in lowering the standard of quality and more offensively, unnoticeably caught in the support or participation of self-degradation.

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  2. Whats good This Maverick how have you been doing big things I like to see that keep up the work your just too talented not to

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  3. @Raven: Thanks Queen!! I appreciate the support :)

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  4. @Maverick: THANK YOU!!! We will be in touch soon

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  5. @Divine: Indeed. Individuals forget that a beat and message are completely different entities and along the way we will begin to lose our concrete foundations getting wrapped up in ill willed messages trapped inside a perfect harmony.

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  6. @TwoLesbianMoms: Thank you so much for stopping by my site. I hope you will grace my pages again in the future!!! Thanks for the support.

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  7. @LesbianCafe: Thanks ever so much darling! I hope you are well :-)

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