untitled...just me

still on this poetry thing...just won't die out. and i'm happy because i've been trying to get some words down on paper for a while. guess it's starting to come back to me. wrote this poem on december 4th when i was going through a lot of stuff with my brother and some kids in school...trying to save some young souls. it's untitled...so if you have a suggestion shoot me a holla.

rev. look like a pimp
and the pimp looks like the reverend
telling me to pray at night
so i can go to heaven
feeling like i've played out
all of my lucky seven
and i think life loves me
but she's throwing me to the bears when
my brother's trying to leave school
and leave all of those necessities
living in the streets will
only exhaust all possibilities
that shit will only let me down
and i thought he was a friend to me
trying to be something else
case of mistaken identity

not respecting mom
sending her through tribulations and trials
making her sick
blood pressure been up there for a while
this child

who has the same blood's
making life so hard
got me praying overtime
screaming "lord oh lord"
will you please forgive me
and these other men of our sins
knowing deep down that
we'll probably do it again

and my soul
wants to be exonerated of all charges
i know i learn the most
when obstacles become the hardest
and the clouds are coming over
blocking the sun it's becoming the darkest
time of my life
and this car- i wanna park it.

everybody wants to jump in
and get a ride to the right road
putting my needs on the back burner
trying to help their souls
young black men who are
unfamiliar with the struggle life holds
don't want them to learn the hard way
but truth be told...

i care about their lives
more than they care about themselves
and their memoirs are overdue
i'm about to put them back on the shelves
they constantly complain
that their lives are living hells
and i'm wondering how giving up
will ever help them prevail.

taking on so much and i don't
know what to do
because these kids are in need of my services
but i need me too
am i being selfish or keeping myself
from turning black and blue?
wondering how a man as young as me
can continue to walk in these shoes

turned to the church
and found myself prejudging the pastor
messing with little kids
instead of fixing this disaster
wonder where God wants me to turn
because the problems continue to fester
turned away from the church
that was filled with hypocrits and molesters
tears rolling down my face
wondering will this last forever
tears rolling down my face
wondering will this last forever...

cause the rev. look like a pimp
and the pimp looks like a reverend
and i keep wondering...
will i ever make it to heaven?

my bourgeois friend

we grew up together
played in the sandbox
and i can remember
pushing the
merry-go-round
while she sat in
the middle
smiling and laughing

but then we grew up-
together
but we separated
when i went off
to my HBCU
and she rode the
white horse
to harvard

i returned home
with knowledge
able to share
with my friends and family
what college life
was really like
and everybody was
so EXCITED

and she came home
in her mercedes benz
never stepping too far
from the door
because she didn't
"want them damn
project boys to
get a hold of it."

and oh my how
proper she talked
and oh my how
nicely pressed
her blazer
and skirt were
and oh my how
lovely was her
permed hair
which she had
dyed blonde...

black as she was-
it looked kind of
weird to me.
but she called me
a "hater"
and cut our conversation
short when
MR BOSS called her
blackberry phone

and she laughed
her fake laugh
and smiled
her fake smile
and talked
her fake talk
because it was
what pleased
MR BOSS

but i knew the
REAL her-
and i bet MR BOSS
would have a fit
if he knew
under that make up
and dyed blonde hair-
what she really loved
was eating
chitterlings and rice
with BULL hot sauce
and
corn bread and collard greens
with her damn fingers.

heavy rain

on some new shit- reading this nikki giovanni book got me feeling inspired and i'm finding a my way back on to the writing scene. a wise friend once told me that i needed to try to write...even through the times when i thought the poems weren't that good...so that's what i've decided to do. and even though this damn keyboard on this laptop i got from school is jacked up, it's all good. and i've decided not to even go back and fix the double spaces because that's how life is...sometimes things are screwed up...so you should understand the spacebar on this machine...but anyway- the poem

heavy rain

the pages
of my book
of life
weren't turning
too smoothly
because the storm
came
and stopped
and hovered
over our house
for a while

and the bills
were due
and the job
became
overwhelming
and the friends
started complaining
and the family
was falling
apart
and the car
stopped working
and gas went up
by twenty cents
and daddy
wouldn't answer
my damn phone calls
and the students
weren't doing
their homework
and the wedding
was fastly approaching
and the money
wouldn't come
for another
two weeks
and a ticket
was issued
and bill money
was spent
and the cable
was turned off
and the gas
was turned off
and the electricity
was about t o
be turned off
but then

the storm passed