Acknowledgements
Thank God for the talent, mind and soul.
Mom and Dad for the nurturing, morals, intellect and insight.
Keith Rogers for the vision.
Friends and family for the undying support.
BackTalk! poetry troupe for the movement.
contents
genesis
the faces of our forefathers
generation Y?
parade of fools
slime like you (for Sean Bell)
trapped
insomnia
spring cleaning
reality check
until dawn
memory’s bliss
the wall
sick & tired
for the jena 6
work shit (remix)
I dare you
after the storm
Genesis
emerge within the light,
from the river of life to where love lives.
reach for the nurturing sun.
the darkness holds tight.
genetic punishment
for past lives past deeds.
saplings must awake the subconscious conscience,
diminish conscious resistance,
learn wrong from right and grow second sight.
to recognize the budding flower,
and feel the warmth of its aura,
find an oracle to answer questions about day and night.
and why seasons age and die,
as good and evil commit the left and right hands
into a lifelong fight.
why love and hate are born,
twin siblings with opposing intentions.
invention--the zygote of necessity must reach for new heights.
in the hall of mirrors, past reflections shimmer like a rainbow.
optical confusions that invite esteem and ego,
on quests for the truth of self.
walking paths of spiritual might,
strength drains and reality becomes a dream,
or nightmare, of the death of questions of perception.
black or white?
unity is the essence and the absence,
and the final reason we return into the light…
The Faces of Our Forefathers
Talk this way
Walk this way
Do as the massas’ say...
Might is right
White is right
So by these rules we play...
Go to school
View the tools
That are used to oppress...
Play the fool
Act as mules
Change the way you dress...
Live for this world
Ignore plans unfurled
Keep your hair uncurled...
Pray to the Lord
Only when you’re bored
With what’s on TV...
Are you free
If you choose not to see
Jail bars made out of gold?
Bought and sold
But never told
To step out of the mold...
It’s just too bad
That no one’s mad
Enough to take what they’ve never had...
As we forget the past
And the millions they’ve harassed
Wondering why we’re so sad...
The descendants of kings
Now chasing the same things
That led to their demise...
Faith in lies
Missing our piece of the pies
Divided right before our eyes...
We’ve been kicked when we were down
Now we’re used to the ground
No longer reaching to the skies...
Living for the lowest highs
With no will left to try
Dying as our forefather’s cry
Generation Y?
Labeled as slackers and punk pistol packers
A generation of kids who have forgotten laughter
From seeing torrid tears of pain stain all that still remain
Those simple and plain caught up in the game…
For every step forward take 365 steps back
Hooked on the rack of sex, crack, and dime sacks
Broken by the streets, with no shoes on their feet
Beaten by defeat and left weak, they take their seats…
At the back of the bus waiting for the end of the line
Learned to count to nine waiting for the seventh sign
If it weren’t for the common people, life wouldn’t make sense
As poli-tricktions get rich collecting their welfare rents…
Swimming against time, layers of lies, and slime
Searching to find tomorrow’s answers to today’s crimes
Every day the world shrinks through network links
Downloading tainted drinks in sinks drifting closer to the brink…
Blowing away with each puff on polluted peace pipes
Light-headed leaches bleeding a rainbow blood type
Orbiting lasers looking for lost cities and drying fountains
As blind youth dig mole holes underneath multinational mountains…
Parade of Fools
every person eventually plays the fool
even after spending years in school
learning his story and rules
to find out if it’s cool
to talk of revolution
to doubt the constitution
to clear up the mental pollution
and confusion within which we have been bathed
my people slaved
built two continents on strong backbones
and could call neither home
because of the infiltration and infestation
of the virus that pursued us
used us and fooled us into believing
that there was no deceiving
when we were told we were less
four hundred years of stress
adds up to increasing death rates
due to overwhelming heartache
and defines the choices that we make
this is why we should hate the fake
those among us walking as chameleons in hated skin
not knowing that if they were to only look within
they could see themselves among god’s children
not among sin
so let us begin to love all, not just one
so that we may all run
unshunned, into the valleys of the sun
or else at heaven’s gate
the amount of inner turmoil and hate
will determine each of our fates
for though the lord did each of us make
that which he makes can he choose not to retake
into his blissful, heavenly pool
so remembering the golden rule
that we are only god’s tools
will prevent you from burning among earth’s forgotten fools
Slime Like You
Congratulations
You live to kill another day
Slime like you
Give good cops a bad name
Cowardly lions with guns
No heart or brains
Time keeps passing
But some things never change
Like those more than fifty shots
With no aim
This
is not
a videogame
You should have gotten life
For taking Sean’s away from his wife to be
And now society pays the price
I’m so angry
I can’t even write right
I’m so scared
I need to drive with a night light
Or maybe I should drive with a gun
At least then you’d have a reason
Other than excess redbull
Driving you to commit redrum
So you may live to kill another day
And you may have gotten off easy
But you won’t get too far
Because now we all see you
For the slime
You truly are
Trapped
pressure surrounds me.
growing
crushing
trapped inside the mouth of the python
i scream mutely
no one can hear the me within me.
even if they could hear
no one can help me
from being eaten alive
swallowed whole
by the black hole of my insides turning outwards
fangs as cell bars surround me from salvation
in this self-made prison
i dream of escape
from this venemous abyss which i have created
but only a fool would invite the serpent in
so instead it creeps in stealthily
on it’s victim unaware, and ultimately
eats him alive from the inside out
for this synaptic snake slinks in my mind
searching for sustenance with its infrared snout
by slithering silently until it wishes to be heard
and suddenly it attacks
using my fears and frustrations for fangs
it sucked me into the inner darkness of myself
but within here i have found
to my dismay
that the only cold-blooded intruder
is me
Insomnia
I could not sleep at all last night. The air was hot outside yet I was chilled inside with fright. My fears like tortured, confused souls performed for me in the darkness. These spirits mocked me increasing my distress...
They were daring me to simply close my eyes and see, horrible demons awaiting me. I scoffed at their dare for I can view demons anywhere. They walk the Earth freely trying to capture their share...
Of human souls, with which they are filling in the gaps. Between Hades, Earth, and Heaven there is a steadily shrinking map. In the witching hours off the walls their wicked whispers echoed.
Compelling me to join other lost souls at the crossroads…
These voices were attempting to fill my mind with such madness, but I was aware that this was only another of life’s tests. You see, the disciples of the devil are only fulfilling their purpose. So when next you are challenged there is no need to become nervous…
For on this night I learned the weakness and weapon of the whisperer. He attacks your weakest points and lulls you with his purr. But you and I have a strength that he cannot defeat. For the gift of free will is the protective sacred sheet…
The dark derelicts cannot penetrate. So I utilized the virtue of patience and decided to outwait. With my choice made, the silent speaker lost his power, but he bade me beware the coming of the next witching hour…
With that warning given he let me be. It was then that I realized just how good it is to be free. Not one constrained to a one-track mind. For free will is God’s greatest gift to mankind.
It sets us apart from all of his creation. Even demons and angels cannot make choices as we do without hesitation. We may win some, and some we may lose, but at least we get the opportunity to choose...
Just which path our short stays here should take. Remembering to tread carefully listening for the slivering of silent snakes. For if given the chance they will poison your soul. Then only another lost one will you become, no free will, no control...
I realized these truths with the dawning of the day, so my next choice was to simply silently pray. For me and you and all human beings. Protection from the dark powers and all demonic things…
With only that one silent prayer my soul was eased. And off to sleep I fell feeling tired and pleased...
Spring Cleaning
The eyes are the windows into the houses of the soul.
The wildness you see within these windowpanes is the loss of my control…
…Of my consciences kitchen,
Reeking from values long gone bad.
The skeletons have left their closets,
They’re running around like mad.
Dirty thoughts dominate the wasterooms,
The trash is piling high.
I would clean them in the bathroom,
but my hope’s water has run dry.
My goals are dirty laundry,
The washroom smells of their sweat and must,
and I’ve lost my inner child,
The game-room now only collects cobwebs and dust.
Dishes of my deepest desires,
Lie broken on the dining room table.
My love life is long forgotten,
The living room is little more now than a fable.
The room once used for relaxation,
Is now a den of nightmares.
I’m losing my lease on life,
Do you think the Realtor cares?
Because I have a basement that’s flooding,
From all of my lies.
Aspirations I keep in the attic,
Are finally saying their good-byes.
I’m restless every night,
I’ve made my bed but do you think I sleep?
and my emotional toilet is overflowing,
Revealing my inner sewage as I weep.
I have viewed the many horrors of life,
Dropping the property value of my soul.
Did I mention that the thermostat is also broken,
Inside it’s dry and cold…
So you don’t want to get to know me,
You see what I mean?
At least not until I take some time and get a chance,
To spring clean…
Reality Check
Image is nothing...
But an ignorant impression,
A blind perception without asking questions...
Just a surface story of fictional glory,
Lacking substantial evidence...
Like electing presidents without background checks,
and no one suspects...
That underneath his smiling, posturing exterior,
Is an inferior, wearier, warrior...
Who everyday tries to ignore,
The truth of his inner core...
Too poor to try to cure,
An illness ripe with malignancy...
He begs for leniency, but only secretly,
Because he’s been entangled by appearance...
And only few ever receive clearance,
To pass through the interference into the billowy depths within...
These so-called friends,
Still grin and smile at his jokes...
Even as they peer through the hoax,
The trick mirrors, screens of smoke, and lies that he spoke..
Letting him choke on the fantastic fallacy,
That one really gets everything one sees...
In his solitude, this he decrees,
From atop his throne of falsehood...
Made out of petrified intentions of good, should, and would,
His reality is but a dream...
But even as the mirage begins to fade,
There he remains and tries to stand...
Until against his will and plans,
The precious mirror crumbles into sand...
Until Dawn
Fleeting fireworks deepen the darkness’s descent upon the day
Preparing the set of the world’s stage for this night’s play
Starting with dress rehearsals of docile dreams
Presented by opaque spotlights shining on black screens
This prime-time lineup varies every night
No one knows if the darkness will bring peace or if it will bring fright
No matter which, unwilling window shoppers have no choice but to watch
As Father Time moves the night onward notch by notch
And billions of blind eyes staring out of mute faces
Gaze upon the land of the lost and all its empty spaces
Searching for the meanings of these midnight matinees
In the realm of R.E.M., lord of the subconscious maze
Trapped inside of this divine comedy, who understands the punch line
When the Earth’s highest life form uses only ten percent of its mind
And can’t even recall what makes escaping from the darkness so good
It’s no wonder so many dreams are misunderstood
For when they awake within the light at the end of night’s tunnel
They think they are safe, but they have only reached the lip of the funnel
Holding on for dear life for fear of falling off the edge
It is now that they realize just how narrow is the ledge
That separates them from that secret dark world
Within which their deepest desires and darkest fears swirl
For waking is a blessing not to be taken for granted
From places where all normal logic is more than slightly slanted
Nightmares serve as constant warnings
That each and every sunrise seen really is a good morning
Memory’s Bliss
Life passes quickly as rapids to a waterfall
And all that remains in the warped wreckage
Of another soul passing over the edge
Are thin glimmers of captured moments we leave behind
On mantles and within albums in which we categorize our lives
We haunt these images the way phantasms haunt final resting-places
Our restless souls imprisoned behind the dusty covers of long forgotten books
Hoping for the moment when we can reveal
Cobwebbed stories about the days of our lives
Speaking vicariously through the vocal cords of various freeze-frames
We tell tall tales of joy, sadness, pain, and pleasure
And as the flip books of frozen forgotten moments thaw
We have been born again through a birth canal of dark rooms
For a picture is much more than words alone
But without an audience
A picture is worth less than driftwood
Floating aimlessly in the river of life
the wall
it’s called hitting the wall
you’re running smoothly
when suddenly your whole back
tenses intensely
as if some sick puppet master
pulled all the muscles at once
it’s more than a cramp
and less than a charlie horse
but it hurts like hell
runners know this feeling well
they call it hitting the wall
or running the bear
clawing and crawling on your back
between laps he growls in your ear
telling you that you can’t do it any more
the finish line is too far
you’re too sore
to climb that wall
that stands impassively in your way
step by step the pain increases
your legs have never felt this heavy
nor your chest this hot
inhaling napalm with each gasping breath
forgetting about keeping pace
even forgetting about the race
because the pain is your only friend now
and he sits atop that cold wall
glaring down like humpty dumpty
but it’s you that falls and cracks
from the pressure
and the ground has never felt this good
so you decide to stay down
and let the wall crumble and crush you
Sick & Tired
see i've
got this dis-ease
i mean i'm uneasy see
dtc drug advertising
that be--direct to consumer
directed at me
is making me
feel crazy...
Do you sometimes feel lazy?
voices in my
tv be askin me
tell lie vision harrasin me
Are you
sometimes sad or lonely?
if i could only turn off these
voices
maybe pick up a magazine and read...
Do you know
what you need?
i need ya'll to leave me be
instead of
tryin to convince me
that somethings wrong wit me
what's wrong
with this society?
we pop pills and pill pop
to stop feelin
anything
Are you depressed?
Are you in denial?
Do you
have trouble focusing?
now i'm pacing through the halls of my
life
wondering when not if i'll have to go under the knife
for
ulcers or hemorroids or cancer or heartache or heartburn or wringworm
or aids or myalgia or nostalgia or aneurism or amnesia or Alzeimer's
or Graves or Parkinsons or Sanford and Sons...
where the hell
did all this dis-ease come from?
Is your vision sometimes
blurry?
Do you have a medical history?
that one is
easy!
i know more about my family's medical history
than my own
ancestry
i can check all the boxes on that medical form
sure i
can tell you how i've coped with all this dis-ease since the day i
was born
There's a pill for that
There's a name for
that
There's hope for that
does insurance pay for
that?
will i die from that?
will i die?
will i?
where
does this dis-ease come from?
was it in my food or drink? the
tap water in my sink?
preservatives
pasteurization
stress
chemicals
meat
vegetables
poisonous
materials
airborne
genetic
heredic
alcohol
tobacco
bacteria
hysteria
Do
you want the answers?
yes...God yes!
Ask your Doctor
for more information
For the Jena 6
All together now
Let's put up our fists
We got to let them know
That we won't stand for this
Because racism is still alive
And they just be concealing it
Because the hatred that has poisoned us for so long
Continues to persist
Some people think this situation is outrageous
Because 6 black kids put up their fists
These must be the same people
Who have sympathy for Don Imus
All together now
Let's put up our fists
We got to let them know
That we won't stand for this
We've got a history of violence
So don't try to claim ignorance
Stop trying to dismiss this as an isolated incident
Just check the statistics
There you'll read
About a system that punishes blacks disproportionately
That's why we descended on your small backwoods town
And this time we're going to stand our ground
All together now
Let's put up our fists
We got to let them know
That we won't stand for this
And we will not leave until true justice is served
These kids didn't receive the treatment they deserved
Imagine the grief of coming to school and seeing that tree
With three white nooses dangling
Imagine the grief of spending 10 months locked up
Charged with second degree murder and conspiracy
Freedom becoming a memory with each days passing
Now imagine a sea of thousands of black and white faces chanting
All together now
Let's put up our fists
We got to let them know
That we won't stand for this
Work Shit (remix)
Is it worth it?
All this work shit?
Let's put they game down flip it and reverse it
Pops told me I should work to live
and not live to work
I guess that's a perk of the retired
Meanwhile I'm sick and tired
of being sick and...
Well ya'll know the rest
I wake up every morning and try my best
To be better than the rest
To set the curve on these corporate tests
and to minimize my stress
but these colonizers keep yo boy stressed
Dressed in a monkey suit and expensive silk noose
Working overtime to find the truth
And is it worth it?
All this work shit?
Let's put they game down flip it and reverse it
I'm composing verses of rebellion
Yelling silently from behind my computer screen
Instead of making a scene and screaming out my frustration
I should be calling Minister Farakhan and the nation of islam
To swing by and drop a coupla X bombs on this God foresaken territory
ya'll need to pray for me
Cuz if my boss calls me into her office one more time
I might just lose my mind
And my job...
But is it worth it?
All this work shit?
Let's put they game down flip and reverse it
At the end of the day
I wanna be able to look into the mirror and still see a trace of the nobility
Passed on to me by the ancestors
But the deeper I get into this corporate game
I become more and more tame
And I find myself laughing at jokes that ain't even funny
Cuz i'm too busy watching my money rise in stacks
Worrying more about my taxes than my people
But lucky for me these lapses in judgment are temporary
Cuz it's scary to think
That I could be assimilating
Imitating the ultimate imitators
But that's the difference between action and words
It's just not worth it
All this work shit
Let's put this game down flip it and reverse it
So Mr. Bossman, Overseer, and Massa
I guess I didn't pass your test
Sorry I couldn't jump through the hoops
I've decided to chill and go shoot some hoops
I've decided to be a mentor to some kids groups
I've decided to write some letters to our troops
and tell them boys to come on back to this broken home
I've decided to start my own business and struggle to pay off my loans
But at least my choices will be my own
Instead of making you and your kids and your kids kids rich
I've decided that I just ain't built for this work shit
So I quit.
I put they game down flipped it and reversed it!
I dare you
what’s it gonna take to wake the sleeping masses?
it’s like if there’s no movie stars, special effects or hot soundtrack no one gets affected
we’re living in the age of cause and cause
there’s no more cause and effect
do i gotta enlist Ben Affleck and that crazy duck from AFLAC?
giving you daredevil insurance to crack through the lack of compassion
whatever happened to compassion?
i guess that intimate sentiment has gone bust
leaving a great emptiness inside of us
and we continue to feed it even though we can barely feel it
we’re scared to peel it and uncover the juicy truth underneath
because underneath it reeks of spoiled morality
calloused and hardened by choosing everyday to look the other way
whatever happened to color?
everything’s turned cold and gray, blended together with a layer of smog on top
in this environment
cops get away with beating innocents
innocence gets violated everyday on pay per view
the newspaper is used not to report the news
but as a vehicle to push the views of a chosen few upon me and you
and we can smell the bullshit in the air
that’s why we stay clear
we’d rather cheer for a sports team than organize
and start marching on every state capitol in these Divided States
let me raise the stakes just a bit more
not only did we start a war under false pretenses
spending billions of your hard earned taxes to bolster our defenses
but we said fuck you to other defenseless people
like those in Darfur
people being brutally murdered everyday
the media can’t even spare five minutes of airplay to shine some light on their plight
but maybe my expectations are too high
maybe I’m being overly cynical and pessimistic
FUCK THAT!
it doesn’t get any more realistic than poor blacks and whites
standing up to their necks in putrid pools of H2O
looking up to the sky’s for hope
only to see Mr. G. W. flying by, mai tai in hand
trying to find a nice landing spot so he could stay dry
but not even Katrina could get a full rise out of our numb demeanors
we breathed a collective sigh of relief when the next news story took over the airwaves
saving us from having to confront our deepest fears that our American society and social systems
are so deeply fragile
ask the people in the N.O. they know
just how quickly disaster strikes
but the rest of us have no clue
and that cluelessness is the glow from an oblivious nightlight helping us sleep at night
even knowing somewhere down below that our comfortable lives are nothing more than shimmering illusions
as long as we keep choosing to be entertained rather than be aware
it’s gonna get harder and harder to care about anything that doesn’t affect us directly
and I suspect that even then
even then, the social Novocain won’t wear off
because we don’t want to wake up
we don’t want to know what’s out there
but here’s an idea
maybe we’d do it on a dare?
After the Storm
It has been said that true joy can only be felt after experiencing true pain.
Just as the colors of rainbows appear after the rain…
The colorful mists are as temperamental as true feelings.
Showing themselves only through prisms of personal reflection…
When joy does reveal itself, it becomes as evident as raindrops on sunny days.
Or as teardrops descending from smiling eyes…
True happiness is the real treasure to be gained,
From tormenting torrents of emotional rain…
That in due time must subside,
Revealing the soulful rainbow hiding inside…
mic check…qwantu, qwantu (1,2…1,2)
qwantu amaru (the lightbringer) is a current resident of new jersey and a beauty mark on the world's expansive face. born in pittsburgh, pennsylvania he has traveled the u.s. extensively and spent considerable time abroad as well.
he wrote his first poem back in '98 about a love battle waged and lost and he's been using poetry to battle back ever since. complex and ever changing his writing took a significant leap forward upon joining the diverse and hard hitting backtalk! poetry troupe in 2001. somewhere between honing his craft as a passionate spoken word artist and attending florida a&m in the mba program he managed to graduate and someone actually hired this self described "conscious rebel".
"we used to work for the massa, now i've got my masters, and i still work for the massa," he says of his experience working the commercial plantations of corporate america. not letting anything stop him, qwantu is in process of completing his first supernatural suspense novel.
qwantu describes his spoken word flow as "stream of consciousness poetic truth". for more information visit the black on black rhyme website at www.blackonblackrhyme.com or e-mail him at qwantu@hotmail.com.
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