Dear Baby Boy,

I've been waiting for you. I've written love letters to your father even after he buried his soul in the pits of my stomach & washed away his flesh with the alcohol he swore he'd never drink again after that day we created you by accident.

You're my son, you're not your fathers son, you're my son. You're the reason why I live to see all the seasons. You remind me that

God forgives sinners when they've cried out apologies and lived to make the same mistakes over again.

Baby Boy, Mommy may not be able to dress
You in the finest clothes or have a hot meal everyday, but I promise to mumble your fathers and I love story under my breath loud enough for you to know, just because you were an accident doesn't mean you weren't made in love.

I hope, that one day for some Dad's little girl you'll steal my pens & notebooks to write her love poems as if you're Shakespeare.

I want you, never to play with her heart like its a game of Russian Roulette, and I want you to walk into a room and flash a smile that knocks the wind out of every pipe and widens eyes to look like diamonds.

I want you to never be afraid of the rain. Know its okay to struggle, but never fail to try. I'll whisper to you story's about how mommy and daddy had "Candle light dinner" every night in December of '92 because the lights were off.

And I'll tell you how the closest we got to a gourmet meal was Ramen Noodles & government cheese.

Baby Boy, if I could I'd take you to God's door step myself. Ask him if he could play a game of chess or two with you.

But I wont force a Bible into your back pack. And I won't force you to your knees to pray to him, but I will tell you about his glory and I'll remind you how your tears caught the ghost & ran down the holy sanitary of your face one sunday morning.

Son, have you ever looked me in my face & said to yourself that you wanted to marry a woman just like your mommy?

Because on my fingers I can count 10 nights you curled up beside me in bed & I felt your fathers spirit dance in my stomach, I wished I could find a man half as good as the man I'm raising you to be.

Baby Boy, you know your father didn't leave you. God called him because he needed a new dancer around his thrown. You'll see him someday.

You'll recognize the feel of his heart beat from when you were a baby.

Baby Boy, have you ever laid your head on my chest and heard the heart beat of your father?

My heart's vains recorded it on our last hug and often times play it back like its old Jimmy Hendrix eight tracks.

Baby Boy, I've written love letters to your father, so may this be my first love letter to you. My dearest Baby Boy, I love you.

Cemetery Chicago

Y'all call this a community. But I call this a cemetery, war zone & work space.

I call it every thing but a community because this is a place where bullets fly more than birds.

Innocent kids fall like they've been fighting wars in Iraq.

And Blue Jeans past ya knees accented with White T's & little bags of weed in ya back pocket is ya uniform.

This isn't a community because more people die here than they do live.

This city is starting to resemble a cemetery, every street corner lays a tomb stone.

Rest In peace to the kids who only dreamt of getting home without being made see through with bullet holes.

Even with all the bullets in the world no one will ever see through us to our dreams because I got a skin color that acts as a barrier.

Ready or not here it comes. Piercing heart beats with no apologies.

Is it possible to tell the difference between the mother of the mother of the murder & the mother of the murdered?

Because both have to make the hard decision of whether or no they should take their child's picture down during the holidays

Because Christmas was always their favorite time of year. I just guess they forgot to find the Christ in it all.

Can you ever remember a time where you watched the 9 o'Clock news & not heard of gun shot victim.

No. No shots fired where I'm from is a luxury. You see I live in the Ghetto so I guess the niggas figured it ain't shit to live for.

Started from the bottom & we still fucking here.

I come the bottom where Amber alerts are not that alarming any more.

Milk carton faces are never solved cases, but tomb stones on another corner.

You call this a community, i call this a cemetery, war zone & a work space.

Is there any worse place?

Bullet Hole Bodies

Bullet hole bodies don't just border cemeteries.

They border every street corner, class room, ball park

& they even border the hearts of 1,901 mothers who've had to burry their babies this year.

Gun powder, angry faces, & broken hearts have left kids see through.

Am I see through?

Feel my Cold metal,

ice the calise on your fingers.

From the rate your fingers shaking you ain't never held me before.

How'd you hear about me? I know not from a song because from this bullets understanding

Music's suppose to heal souls, NOT blow them away. Did you get me from your mother?

See most people find it easy to blame the fathers for American's shame BUT

No one has the guts to face the mothers.

I'll have you shoving me down your throat apologizing

For the time you saw your "HomeBoy" getting ready to taste that gat

You pulled up your hoody & ran the other way, having to tell his mother

"Sorry Miss Milly,
He was gonna marry my sister & I'd like to thank you

for the way Your son was brought up. I only ran away

because I knew I's gone get slaughtered when I saw his body tremble"

And momma "I'm sorry for what I'm
About to do, but the kids at school

been calling me faggot & I could never look you square in the face & be gay

So this bullit I will taste & you should find all of my remains lifeless on the kitchen floor.

Bye mama"

I'll border your heart with my trembling bones.

And Mr.President, how many lives does it take to change these laws?

Would these law change if your daughters had a best friend held

at gun point at subway. Or would they change even faster if your baby girl

Wrote on a suicide not that said

"Sorry daddy, but I got to go. Don't find out why I did this, I promise I had good intentions,

But the kids at school didn't so i'll eat this gun power & you'll suffer its bitter after taste.

Its okay. Tell momma I love her & kiss my little sister."

Bullet hole bodies don't just border cemeteries. They border the hearts of mothers & Fathers as well.

Do you know who we'll have to answer to for this?

Y'all said it took a village, so where the people at?

Where were y'all when this boy needed someone to love him? Now he's holding me in his hand.

I icing the calise on his fingers. Birthing new meanings of man hood in my trigger.

Can you fell me? From the stutters in his palms he ain't ever held me before.

His finger prints are new to me. He'll never compare to jodi in baby boy, cause he ain't got the heart of a killer.

Can you feel me?

I'm about to pierce the souls of a lot of your children if these law don't change over night.

Mr.President I lost 3cousins to Gang.

1 friend to a hold up.

And 1,901 mothers have lost their babies to suicide, all hold guns.

Can you feel me?

Forgiveness

Tonight I caught a glimpse of the moon that rested in the sky's of Chicago & I asked myself could it be Gods smile?

And I wondered if you could see it from where you stood too.

But then, 6 bullets that all had gang names written on them cut into the silence I had on that night & it reminded me,

you couldn't see a moon & 7 stars because the smoke of Iraq was much similar to the gun powder that could not so easily be washed off of the scarce-fully beating

Hearts of 5 Grandmothers who'd have to bury their Grandson's this week.

And one bullet for the mother who'd have to bury her daughter.

I know, I know you didn't mean to kill them. Non of those bullets had their names written on them,

But their lives claimed them. Please explain your motives.

Is it that your heart is ill?

Or could it be that you never had a father to teach you what a real man looks like?

What paths does a real man follow?

You'd never know because the only "Real men" you know is the ones that don't know what a real man is.

So, how could America set criminals on T.V's & have them begging for our forgiveness when no one folded their hands & taught them how to pray before?

Don't ask for my forgiveness because personally I don't have a fuck to give about what justice does to you.

You didn't kill me, & good luck with getting 6 dead people to forgive you too.

Tell me how that conversation goes.

You scared the beauty of every moon out of me.

You even shot a poem into me.

And I pray you find who God is & talk to him a time or two.

But don't use your bible as cake, only for special occasions.

Use it as your bread, in jail it may be your last supper.

And I pray your soul rest peacefully for eternity for you have been granted forgiveness by God; because, man ain't got no haven or hell to put you in.

Tonight I caught a glimpse of the moon. I wondered if you could see it where you stood.

And I wondered if you ever questioned it to be Gods smile too?

Even though we're all sinners God smiles too.

Remember Happy?

I remember the days when a bare face of a woman, gym shoes & a sweater was sexy.

I remember when I didn't have to re-identify myself to catch someones attention.

I remember when I was myself.

I was a child who always needed her mother and secretly prayed to see my father.

My auntie blames the absence of my father for the presence of my homosexuality.

Is it true?

Like any woman my eyes wonder, but my soul never feels safe wrapped in any mans arms other than God.

Could my existence be a phase?

Or has my life just been a dream?

God, do you think that anyone hears my dead silent screams?

Have you ever not wanted to wake up in the middle of the night to ease my trembling heart?

I remember when things were simple.

I played house with my best friend Josh & sleeping together really meant sleep.

He on one end of the couch & I on the other.

Our souls were innocent.

And our jokes made us laugh like we were the funniest comedians on earth.

I remember the day I came out to my friends.

Facebook camped out on my official "I'm gay" status & the showers of humanity started.

I remember the night I cried & begged God for his forgiveness.

I even apologized for being gay & asked if I could change.

But, I see he hasn't changed me yet so I see I'm living proof of God loving gay just as much as much as he love straight.

I remember I was told by an anonymous soul that because I found home in the arms of a woman, I would burn at the gates of hell.

For a minute I was convinced, but I had to empty myself of me to be invisible.

I had to show God my soul, I more than anything want it to be his.

I remember the days I would go to church.

I remember when things would be easy.

I remember when I didn't give up so much & I didn't cry everyday.

I remember when women were just pretty.

And I could say it without being given the Queer eye.

I remember when the definition of happy to me was a blue sky.

I just want to be happy again.

Jack Daniel's

From what I see you have a similac residue on your teeth.

And my sense of smell tells me you have Jack Daniels on your breath.

You've been hanging with my Grandfathers killers, Jack & Daniel.

48 shots to many. Old pops couldn't have it with a chaser, he'd be too much less of a pimp.

But You knew better, your mother raised you to believe you had to use what you got to get what you want.

But Before our Grandmother passed she instilled in us to never let a man or a woman make us do things that would cause us to loose respect for ourselves.

But your excuse was mother never made you feel loved at home & that was the only thing you've ever wanted.

So you did what she told you.

you used what you had to get what you wanted.

5 minutes of temporary Lust,
that of which you've mistaken for love ended you having more than you ever wanted.

I guess you're only feeling loved when he's making you orgasam.

You had a baby.

Said that you Never wanted to be like your mother who aborted your little borther,

She was going to name him Jack.

So you named your daughter Daniel.

It never made sense to the world why, but all you knew was that Jack Daniel's was your friend.

And I guess your father is like God, you've never seen him, but you know that he exist some where in this equator.

You are still a baby.

Similac residue on your teeth.

Jack Daniel's on your breath.

You're another baby who had a baby, who looked for love in the bottom of a bottle handed to them by their best friends Jack & Daniel.

Sleeping in Secrets

Every morning at 5a.m I roll over & smell you on my sheets.

I lick my lips & taste last nights Corona on my breath.

Its bitter.

But the memories that are yet to be spoken of you & me that linger in my cheeks are sweet.

Sweet.

Kinda how your kisses tasted on me in between my thousand thread count sheets.

Sweet.

Your salsa dances & black boy romances are sweet.

Maybe too sweet to ever be made real, but I think I'll be satisfied with just sleeping in my secretes tonight.

No Victoria Secretes tonight.

I'll just sleep wrapped in your arms you'll be my secrete tonight.

But In the morning you'll have to help me strip my bed of these sheets because we wouldn't to chance our romance ever becoming front page on the newspapers of every one's minds

New news to them, but old news to us. Spiritually we've been married for months.

But on paper, our relationship was never in existence because your last name her first is whats on marriage licenses where it says "Wife"

I have to bath my self in ice

Cold to numb all the lies you've kissed into my vanes.

Tapping my wrist,

two fingers like a junkie, making sure I'm not becoming high for this.

Baby my vagina isn't the Weekend's layup spot.

Wrap your scent in my sheets & leave your left overs in my finger tips so that when I bite them I'm tasting you.

Your bitter.

Not Jack Daniels bitter but corona with sugar on the rim bitter.

Your a bitter sweet memory, that dances in the threads of my sheets & awaken me every morning at 5a.m.

Your scent suffocates me. Leaves me sleeping in Secrets.

But No Victoria Secretes tonight.

This media

When I'm in my feelings its best that you give me a hug & offer to help me get through whats messing with my head...

if not, I'll just flood your Time Line with my emotions & you'll get sick of me. I don't want you to get sick of me,

Because I have a new album coming out & Imma need, you, yo' momma & yo' hommies to buy it from Joe on the corner of Harlem & lake.

I'm one of those people how listen to music that fits their bad moons, I type essays for statuses & call it physical therapy.

Posting is my therapy. And instead of telling You the truth I tell you this bubble gum fantasy of whats on my mind.

I tell them how my daddy got me the Jordan's & that My hair is 22inches long.

No one will ever know that it isn't real. & when they ask why don't I wear my Jordan's I'll say, I don't want to mess them up...

So I keep them in my box.

When I first made signed up for this life the first question was

"How old are you?"

My answer was that I'm 102 & 3 quarters.

Everybody lies about their age don't they? so why shouldn't I?

Then they asked

"Whats on your mind?"

"I'd say that was probably the biggest lie I had ever told. "

I said: "I'm doing just fine, looking for new friends so Hit me up."

What I actually wanted to say

"I have no hot water, I'm cold, I have no food & my rent was due last month, but I got the new iPhone."

Whats on your mind?

"I want to be famous."

"I want to hold the world."

"I want to fly on private planes

"& own shoes with red on the bottoms. "

"But I don't want to work for it. "

Whats on your mind?

"I'm hungry."

"I'm tired. "

"EWWWW TOMORROW'S MONDAY"

"I'm failing biology"

"But me & my crew hitting up this party tonight ! "

"Man Forget this studying Jazz"

"I'm going to sell out my soul"

"To get some bandz"

"TO MAKE HER DANCE"

What's on your mind?

"Whats on my mind is that its black history month & i have yet to see a African bulletin bored up in the hallways of my school."

"Whats on my mind is, this society is so darn Jacket, it looks like America has been high jacked."

"We are the land of the free."

"We are the home of the brave"

"And we are controlled my computer screens."

"Turn me on computer screen. Show me pictures of my filtered bodied best friend sitting on the bathroom sink."

Social Media just isn't innocent any more

It has become the modern day lewd films of America.

Only difference is this film last forever. It don't come with VHS tapes nor is it attackable.

"I want to see a terrorist try to blow up a WWW dot."

What's on your mind dot com.??

Saving a Generation

People often complain about todays generation, but no one's trying to help us remember where we come from.

Nobody tells their kids about the Protests & marches that put us in the voting boots & on the fronts of city buses.

Not many kids today have dreams of unifying two nations like Dr.Martin Luther King Jr.

But we all have something in common. Whether its to us or from us its all still racism to me.

One may ask, "How can you be racist toward your own people."

I say easy, just keep sagging your pants, keep passing out Molly passes & walk into the cages where your chained, forced to clean & maybe even raped & beaten.

We're subtracting our population by they sixes, while the man sit & watches.

We are blinded by a dry ass fantasy that all of them are our friends.

They promised us our 40 acres & a mule. Did you think we'd ever really get it?

If we ever really stopped to educate our selves, with the value of a million minds we can buy that & then some.

But until then, we'll stay broke. Not, lint in the pockets broke, but ignorant about our history broke.

So don't blame this generation for not knowing about a such things as hope, education, power of mind, body & spirit.

Its not our fault, this teaching was our mothers & fathers job & some of us, just aren't that blessed to have those anymore.

Before you complain, ask your self first, did you teach your kid about the power of man & the even greater powers of God?

Yes, this generation have let many powerful minds go to waste, but a few can be saved.

Help me save my generation.

Respectful Hands

My hands have to show respect.

My hands have to show respect because Grandma would slap the piss out of me if I didn't fold my hand & pray at dinner time.

My hands are way too shy to discover any parts of your body bellow your belly button.

I guess that's why they tremble when they hold your breast, because one side of my hands know it's disrespectful to feel on someone who isn't your wife but the other side doesn't give a damn because their having fun.

My hands have lines where wedding vowels will someday go & my hands will hold you when its cold.

They'll hold you when your scared they'll even hold certain parts of you that are unmentionable one day, but we, we one day will be married soon, so before I eat your meal

I'll be sure to pray, I'll work over time, make you cum twice.

I get nervous when I'm around you. Thats why my palms are so sweaty all the time.

And my thumbs, my thumbs favorite place to lay are in the dimples at the bottom of your spine. They feel safe there.

My hands like it when you rest your head on my collar bone because it triggers my fingers to wrap around your waist.

I often times catch myself drooling secretes about you, taking my hands & stuffing them back into my mouth because I'd be ashamed for you to know how much I love you.

You'd think I'm creepy, but I'd just say,

"Babe, the readings on palms don't lie. Read these lines & connect the signs, you'd see my love is innocent."

I wrote my wedding vowels on these lines. I'll put my hand on the Bible & swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, & nothing but the truth, so help me God

be my sacred judge. I'll have 204 eyes, 102 witnesses & 6 dark lines on my hands that will gladly confess before my mouth about how much I love you.

My hands hold respect for you. They hold respect because they're afraid to discover any parts of you below your belly button. My hands hold respect for you.

Strong for you

Usually when I would X out all my Exes you'd be just another picture to burn, but you were so ashamed of me you'd always protest any snapshot I ever attempted to take.

But its okay. Pictures last forever & we were only temporary so I'm glad that I'll never have to relive that pain every time our faces happened to live in my phone or be shared on Facebook by all the people who thought we were cute together.

We weren't cute together. One of us had a ugly personality that made every picture worth burning. You probably should trade mark Ugly because you seemed to have owned it, you'll always be better at it than me.

The only time you weren't ugly is in the dark. Thats where any giant is subject to fall. But I would never allow you to collapse because like that Cross & nails hailed up Jesus my spine would be David. Even though i'm smaller than you I'll still be stronger than you. I'll always be strong for you.

Strength always come from the unexpected. You always leaned on me.