The Cage

The Cage

 

Went to the liquor store & bought some cigarettes

Got some lotto tickets and lost all our bets

Cruisin’ in our Caddy down Chancellor Avenue way

Street was dark as heaven on its bluest day

 

We’re all hanging in the cage

We’re all feeling some rage

It’s time to turn the page

We’re all hanging in the cage

 

Saw lights flashing in the mirror they’re blue and red

Hoping praying to God we don’t wind up dead

Got some weed and open Hennessy stashed in the back seat

Here’s where the good hood & suburbia meet

 

We’re all hanging in the cage

We’re all feeling some rage

It’s time to turn the page

We’re all hanging in the cage

 

New York City pretty skyline

Sinatra’s music twas never mine

Shakespeare my dear is still here

Maybe in a moment I’ll disappear

 

FBI told many a lie at Wounded Knee

Pine Ridge Reservation we’re still far from free

Olivia Benton a name of fame in fantasy

Justice & Love is our new reality

 

No justice no peace

Know justice know peace.  

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Black Star

 Black Star

 

Marcus Garvey is wandering the universe

There is a Black Star

Radiating with rhythmic verse

Jimi Hendrix playing a burning electric guitar

With his raw white teeth

While Sekhmet is rousing from her dark domain underneath

And it will take but a single anomaly

To permanently alter our reality

As we reach that fateful final hour

See the shifting of the power

For Satanic weapons shall not prevail

The ‘Evil Empire’ will fail

For good hearted people from all the Earth

Will collectively give birth

Turning the page

To a righteous age

You know who you are

Black Star

You don’t need years of college

To attain reasoning and knowledge

As the sculptor shapes the mountain

The man whose throat is dry

Drinks from the crystal pure fountain

In heights on high

Remember we only live until we die

And we shall succeed if we but try

So listen near and far

Black Star

Don’t you know

An idea is the deadliest foe

Invincible as the soul

So to those in control

You shall see in the end

There is much more than you can comprehend

So take my hand as we sail the cosmic waves

Jesus saves

The battle of the cross was not a loss

Into the black hole all the Earth’s money I toss

Soon we’ll be firing the boss

I whistle as I sharpen the guillotine

I think you know what I mean

There are lines to read between

Do you find this bizarre?

Black Star

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Cannon Fodder A.K.A Beloved Daughter

 Cannon Fodder A.K.A Beloved Daughter

 

NeNe, I've never spelled her name before, had no need

Easy, that was her deceased son's nickname

Blown away on the Newark streets, another casualty

Like autumn leaves falling from the trees casually

But in the dirge of death the community's spirit overflows

Mourner's packed the church house for the funeral

Some in suits and some in tatters, it's the heart that matters

 

Jessica, nice young lady, singing the soulful street serenade of sorrow

No education, no experience, no relative to lay down nepotism

Economic think tanks serve the lustful desire of the Federal Reserve

Calculating to four decimal points how to maximize potential profit

And if the numbers rising on the sheets equates death upon the streets

Well it's somebody else's child irregardless, not their mess

 

So NeNe wept when Jessica enlisted, it's her way out she insisted

The crazed maze is carefully crafted by master psychologists

Slavery is packaged in a pretty green uniform under an American flag

You'll be serving your country, become part of a grand family

Just hope you don't get raped, physically, mentally, spiritually

Robots make efficient killers, we haven't mastered MK Ultra just yet

So Irving Berlin's 'God Bless America' defeats Woody Guthrie's 'This Land is Your Land'

Let it be known that nothing is of yet written in stone

For Jessica at the moment is both alive and well

 

As we journey collectively on our space ship Mother Earth

Wars wage, in every age, the planet's spinning and we keep sinning

A war on terror is the bold declaration of a total farce, unless you look in a mirror

Where more of our soldiers commit suicide by far then die in combat

And we pray for Jessica with all of our might

She is amidst enemy territory unaware of the peril infesting her soul

Please Lord, don't let our beloved child die in some useless war

The prayer echoes in Chinese, and Russian, and Arabic and Hebrew and...

For these words are not a sonnet of surrender

Rather a battle cry for forevermore, a war on war

When statisticians coldly calculate the predicted rate of slaughter

Do not see cannon fodder rather know it is Jessica our beloved daughter

I don't want to see NeNe cry at a funeral no more 

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Hard Knocks In The Hood

 Hard Knocks In The Hood

 

Twenty minutes by car, two turns off of the Parkway

Passing snooty Glenridge with lavish lawns of green

Irvington, potholes of devastation, rivaling moon craters

Daredevil drivers darting dangerously down the road

 

Brothers and sisters diverse as life in it's glory

A flourishing garden, of weeds betwixt flowers

But them eyes, those dark portals to see through

These are the defeated masses, descendants of slaves

The oppressed, the dysfunctional, the over comers

Grandmothers of sagacious wisdom mingle with stoned crack heads

 

405 Chancellor Avenue Newark, Church of Christ, next to,

Al's store on the corner, he's cheaper than a wooden penny

Freezing temperatures on Sunday morning, he sits shivering in his jacket

Saving a couple of bucks on the heating oil

Maybe when he dies he'll invest in a luxury casket

 

Drug dealers are friendly enough but they got a job to do

Congregating outside of Al's they got methods of operation

Entrepreneurs throwing the dice for a slice of paradise

Jail, insanity, death, those are the devil's cards

But we tell them about Jesus with a smile, and hope and pray

 

We give out second hand, free clothes, to the legions in ripped rags

We peddle hope, reminding them they are not forgotten

But our miniscule efforts are but a dim reflection

These are those pushed aside, ostracized and abandoned

Demonized for the audacity to dream of equality and escape

 

I have a mustard seed of faith, I planted it deep

Past the filth on the street, below the scarred concrete

It is a vision, foggy at best, I the interpreter, misunderstood

Like Phoenix from the ashes, we shall build great pyramids for the common good

Winter like reality is always harsh and bitterly cold, hard knocks in the hood 

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