Pristine

You were never jaded
Never worn down
Or torn after all these years

Artwork standing intact 

Workmanship like you is slowly fading extinct 

Ever since sixteen candles decorated your cake

You’ve reminded me of the Sistine Chapel

You were pristine battles where bullets of sweat and paint landed exactly where they were meant to.

Finding a frame to match is humanly impossible,

So your figure is Gods doing.

And nothing this breathtaking should be stationary.

Which is why you’re never content. 

How To Raise A Black Boy

Does the juxtaposition of the words “Black” “Lives” &”Matter” make you upset?

Black bodies hanging from poplar trees, would you have wept?

When a black child is murdered by police,

Do you ask “why” or “why didn’t he get on his knees”

When armed shooters with lack of color

Are still allowed to see their mother.

Black fathers taken from their children before birth

Black children six feet beneath earth

Naive young me used to question why so often.

I remember asking my mom why I couldn’t have a nerf gun.

I promised I wouldn’t shoot it at, or hurt anyone.

Mom, it’s cold why can’t I wear my hood at night?

It’s not in my eyes I promise I can see alright.

Danny and Nick are doing it, why can’t I play ding dong ditch

Jesus Christ mom stop being such a god damn bitch.

I always viewed my parents as overprotective

Thought I was being sheltered and I couldn’t tell why

My dad always seemed a bit aggressive

All because they were doing things just to keep me alive

I was never awarded my adolescence

Coming home from school to added lessons

I wasn’t afforded the luxury of childhood and silly decisions

Because of others misinformed filthy religions

I never knew what it was like to be boisterous and careless

My mother feared some cop would point at me and care less

I could have been just words on a tombstone

Instead of you reading my thoughts and my words being known

It wasn’t until now that I understand why I wasn’t allowed to make mistakes

Until seeing black victims juvenile crimes resurrect all whilst the white shooter didn’t get a court date

I know now.

I know now that my life doesn’t matter more than that of a deer

“Is it hunting season on a niggas ass” wasn’t a joke, but actually fear.

Black bodies no longer hang on poplar trees

Black bodies now lie in the streets

Silence is empowering the other side

So I no longer jail my tongue behind my teeth.

Been That Way [Poem]

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I want that old thing back

Like a soul train lap,
Let me go one more time.
Feels like it was summer time
Nice day, perfect temperature
What a tempting adventure.
We travel down memory lane
Unravel the tendency of pain.
You make me the happiest yet,
I’m still not the happiest yet.
But it’s always been that way.
Nothing’s changed,
Running game,
Breaking hearts,
Taking names.
But I still remember
Middle of september
High school in 2008
My foolish self couldn’t wait
It was instant
The way we fell in love
When did we become so distant,
Everything is so different.
Except my mission.
And it’s always been that way.
It’s been too many years to count
And you’re still the one that I write about
Each time we talk still feels like the first time.
Every time you leave it feels like the worst time.
Our hearts seem connected forever
Our minds just don’t get each other.
From wondering
To wandering
Now look and you conquering
Taking life by the horns
Breaking right through the storms
You’re the ray of sunshine on a cloudy day
Baby its been that way.
Over the years, I’ve been with different women
Some of them were consistent women
Persistent in taking your position
No pertinence so they never had permission.
Only you ever had my admission
You opened my heart and you entered.
Went so deep that you found the center.
Maybe it’s cynical
But you’ve always been the pinnacle.
It’s always been that way.
Some things don’t change.
I still get blamed
You still take aim
We can’t be tamed.
So we try to maintain,
Somehow we still feel the same.
Some things don’t change
I can’t complain.
Hasn’t it been that way?
I want that old thing back
Looking through these Kodaks
Wishing I could go back.
Maybe grow my fro back
Then switch to the high fade.
And you bring back the braids,
The ones from eighth grade.
Back to when our eyes first met
Before things went left.
Before mystery.
Before misery.
Before walls fell
Broke loose all hell
Before likes
Before fights
Before bites
Before bikes.
When a hug was an embrace.
When I could wipe tears off your face
Ones that I didn’t cause
When you didn’t see my flaws.
We just gave the other our all.
When a touch felt like being caressed.
When each kiss felt like our last breath.
But it’s always been that way.