Heiffers, pls apply within...

Ok, so i know i'm a few weeks late to start this but like the bibeli says "let whoever hath not sinned, cast the first stone" ...
ok, so here i go with the first post of ma "Prayaz for the heifferz Tuesday"



This here is for you.

ok, now i cant even figure out who de ass to pray for!
ok, guess we hafta postpone this...
in the meantime, to all the ppl who know me, who would like to get into ma heiffers list so i can get ma first PFTH post dedicated to them, pls piss me off soon... thanks

Integrity vs Despair

Never have you dialed ma number
to notify me that you have arrived
but 2 days ago
i felt special
and knew u bore guilt
and ur conscience musta pushed you
cuz u picked up a phone
and called me
to notify me
that you were back.

I dont mind
and yes,
i did feel special
but wondered what it'd'a been like
if i had continued to take ur crap

Or maybe
just maybe
when you hit that milestone
Integrity vs. Despair
as Ericson would call it,
hits you
and you begin to wonder
if your life has been fufilling
or if you have just accumulated
a whole lifetime of ... shit, crap and more bull
so tell me ...
How does it feel to be in despair?




Why exactly did you call me?

Anger, an evidence that we are slaves to yesterday

"Black people are tempramental"


do you wonder why?
a black female slave has a baby,
a lil black nigger
as cute as a toad
with a flat wide nose
forsaken for the melanin
in his skin
not compared to chocolate
but treated as mud
this he-mud-nigger
grows to know
he cant exactly play with miss Lauren
cuz Lauren looks like snow
and although he is twice her age
he MUST call her "m'am", and do as she says
and when he asked why
he was tol'd
"because u only a nucca"

so this man grows
to feel low as low
to work twice as hard
and earn only enough
to feed...to remian alive
just enough strength
to slave off the next day
this black man grows
to wonder why
if God had a choice
why he picked Him to be a nigga
why couldnt he have a life of assurance
a life that is destined for fufilling promises
a life that is precious and preserved
a life where he wouldnt have to fight
and strugle
and stumble
every single motha fokin day!

a life where he could be white
and look just like snow
with brunette soft curls
and maybe even golden straight hair
with the thinnest pink lips
a perfect pair of blue eyes
and the sharpest pointy nose
why he oculdnt be a white man
and own slaves
so he could be waited on
hand and foot
and he could sell other frogy niggaz
and make him some profit.

"Why are we so temperamental?"
because we are angry
and anger itself, has become our culture
because when that black female nigger
told her froggy fat-lipped son
that he couldnt play with white kids
she hated herself for it
she felt guilt
knowing that she brought into this world
yet, another black man
to serve in the fields
or maybe if lucky,
serve in the home
of yet!
another white man.

anger has become our culture.
it is now "black" to speak up
because we have had to learn
and adjust
to the life that was bestowed upon us
so that anger
becomes the lesson that is taught
by the forefathers
to the young
and now its managed
to merge itself into us!
incorporate its genetic codes
into our DNA!
so that now
we are the generation
of the black people
who are no more slaves to the white man
in most ways, we have managed to strip him
of his power
we now have freedom from the white monster
but we remain slaves nonetheless,
slaves! REGARDLESS! motha fuckin slavessss still!
to our own past.
to our history.
to years ago.
and yesterday.
and i too, portray this as i ask you
"what were we; my people... before slavery?"




Dedicated to Malcolm Little (X) (May 19, 1925- Feb. 21, 1965),
RIP mista... you remain ma hero

To ma girl of all time, Araminta.

I wonder how you did it
a nubian goddess like you
though i bet you didnt know it back then
yet i must ask you;
Araminta, how did you do it?
Crawlin in the thicks of the nights
with men, children and wives alike
knowing it just might be your last
yet risking it
for the sake
of us

I thank you for your courage
and appreciate the love you spread

RIP ma ma heroin
To ma girl of all time;
Araminta AKA Harriet Tubman
June 14 1820- March 10 1913

You too have failed

I was wondering about you
so i asked
apparently, you are fine

As i thought of my dream unachieved,
i thought of the look of disappointment
on your face

I've seen that look
many
many
mannnny
times


and i swear to God
if and when i tell you
i better not see that look
because only God knows
you aint exactly a saint neither
and you too have failed before
forget before
you too, have failed
yet again
In making me believe
that you are always right

another year?

I am disappointed and broken
but not destroyed
regardless what
i am proud of me.
another year?
whoever knows what i'm talking about
probably knows me
whoever knows me
probably knows how devastating it is
for me to accept
yet
another year
.
But because dreams
arent goals
till you believe
and goals
arent worth none
till achieved
i keep trying
because i know
that i have to.


for yet, another year.

there goes my mini dream
how about a fit?

This moment, ...here

I really dont wanna jinx it
But i do need an entry
that'll remind me
of now
today
this
moment
here

Thank you babes,
for trying
at the moment
you are in the kichen
doing something
that you'd never do
doing something
for me

At the moment
you are in my haven
fixing up the mess
that the tornado caused
yes the tornado,
me and you.

"did i fold it right?"
"yes, but here", as i folded it better for you

My bed is made just right
in your eyes

its not the faults in it
that i care for
its the reasons in your actions
that shows me
you care enough
to change
and for that,
i blog.


Thanks.