Where We Belong

His journalistic range, Black Thought expressed,
is a catalyst for change–for me, a big yes!
to all this live electricity streaming down
to find my ground. This is key:
finally sitting in my base
expressive face
letting my body feel it for a change
open and available to mystery.
Don’t get frosty–the way I do,
all my chilled trauma places preventing you
from touching me, containing us
I could regale you with the stories
but why make a fuss. The energy
sets the stage: when a child cannot
express her rage, she goes inside
or finds a pen, crafting rhymes
to keep her hand in. Until today
excitement bounds in the deep
inner space that channels the sounds
from higher places
where we are round
integrated, safe and sound.

Inspired by: Stage, Frosty, Regale, Excitement, the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt “key“, and my commitment to make December a “freestyle to prompts” month with soundcloud recordings.  (Today’s is here.)

And the continuing inspiration of Black Thought Tariq Trotter’s freestyle chops expertise utter brilliance.  (An amazing interview on his process here.)

 

Vanish In The Haze

There is a person on this planet
who celebrates the day we met

a decade later–so I placate
the night’s plaintive despair

of this world that gropes myopic
absent 60 billion bird eyes

sighting up high what we miss
down low. Here approaching

autumn, I mourn the passage
of what 50 years ago seemed

true. Filter the insistent
voices selling lies without

a qualm. During the day I can
wrap the ugly city-scape

with pretty music–no rap–to
transport me to preteen wilds.

But in the light of the moon’s
turning face, away, away, so

cold and distant, I lose my
footing and I find the path

lacks substance. Help me get
my feet back on the ground
.

The poisoned bodies and minds
lurk and lunge, directed by

flickering screens’ strident
promises of violent war.

Fear conquers. I’m tired
and even though there is

a person on the planet who
celebrates the day we met,

he’s far away and won’t you
please, please help me
?

Inspired by: Myopic, Autumn, Qualm, Placate and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt Wrap/Rap, which means no editing!  And Help by John Lennon, Paul McCartney. I’m feeling down and I do appreciate you being round…

When Money Mediates

We laughed when they started
selling bottled water

but the people in Flint
are desperate, counting cents

to save their lead-infused
children from usury

the bankers deal. And I
assure you that the sky

is next, they’ll charge for air
–breathe if you have the fare.

Power-hungry nimble
fingers count the symbols

list a million reasons to
stand your ground is treason.

Debtors prison is real
and you are blind in line.

Only thing to over-
throw is this mapped system

—time and separation
should be foisted-stories

drive to obviate what’s
free. Prison-planet hate

slogging through poisoned soil
and billionaires unloyal

to their sisters, scrambling
to the top, they trample

these delicate flowers.
Desire sours and

this doesn’t end well.

A few buy and sell us.
On the other side of

nightmare, we gift inside
pure presence, the only

interest paid: sacred loan
of attention to wake

from this simple mistake.

What is real together
emerges wherever

we sit and see
this imaginary split.

The truth is we are one
we are one.

We have won when
we are one.

Inspired by Obviate, Money, Nimble and Desire.