STEREO-MINDED

Yep Im that NIGGA
Yep I’m that BIT*H
yeah I’m HIP-HOP
yeah I’m HOODRICH
I smoke WEED I don’t try in SCHOOL
You rock BOOKBAGS I ROCK NEW SHOES
Yep I’m GANG tied I REP that BLUE
Oh you BLOOD BORN I REP RED too
I HATE WHITE folks HISPANICS too
and though you a NIGGA I HATE you too
When I GREW-UP Imma RAP Imma SING
get that MONEY and buy MATERIAL things
A FANTOM like HOVA and woredrobe like WEST
Then Imma get me a HOE or 2 or 3
they won’t mind me saying that
since BLACK BIT*H’s HOE for FREE

Yep Imma HOE
Yep Imma FREAK
if Melissa Ford can get PAID for it
why can’t that be me
Yep I’m PREGNANT
and yea that can be fixed
Imma go to the CLINIC and
get rid of this SHIT
Yep he BEAT me
that’s what NIGGAS do
but it’s cause he ain’t got
no FATHER so Imma stay with my BOO
Yep we FAILURES who won’t amount to anything
Yep we DESTINED to stay in the HOOD and just cop BLING
Yep I’m BLACK
HE BLACK
SHE BLACK too
Imma BABYMAMA
HE a CRACKHEAD
and SHE DROPPED OUTTA SCHOOL
but that’s ALRIGHT
that shit’s COOL
because I’m BLACK
and that’s just what BLACK FLOKS DO

The Church of Poetry and All Dem Latter Day Saints

I went to the temple where the words is the word
saw Nikki Giovanni as the image of God or rather I saw God in her
She was speaking the truth and the light preach’n to my brothas and sistas to keep up the fight

all the diciples were posted up tight Gill Scott-Herring was teaching the congragation that the
rightoues ain’t all ways right
Langston Hughes was passing out communion ‘stead of a cracker and wine he gave us a pad and pen

told us the things that we write will save us in the end
Went to alter and kneald next to Mya Angelou we prayed that the struggle would soon be through
looked to the pews to spot members I knew noticed saint Gwendolyn having a heated

debate with saints James Emanuel and Robet Hayden
something about the world without poetry and if it would end Emanuel said “brang on the apocolyspe”
Hayden said “Id least we’d have something to write about then”

we all laughed and then the choir came in
Rita, Cornelius, and Jessie the Altos
Jupiter, Yusef, Etheridge Baritones
Natasha, Alice, Phillis Sapronoes

When they open their mouths to pour out their praise the whole congregation was sat ablaze
we all did the poet clap and snapped our fingers until they were numb
Then pastor Wanda, deacon Quincy, and deacon Forrest lead us in the final prayer

“Father look down on this chossen clan, inspire our minds, move our souls and guide our hands
mind our tounges as we deliver our truth, this poets prayer we give unto you”

We snapped again and said amen then left the temple until we meet again.

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