Cleansing Rain

In the backdrop of
Night fights with sleep
I refuse naps until my
Meditations spells are complete
And the filthy, dirty nasty
That I feel inside
Feels coated and my facial inhibitions
Begin to subside
So let it rain from the heavens and
Its waters wash away the pain
Until my tummy settles calm
And my vision no longer wanes
Until my story becomes a real one
And my existence, I no longer feign
Until history is nothing but the truth
And my deeds no longer in vain

As a day beats me up
with its work and its heat
Too tired to eat
I slave when left over feats
Of passion and duty
When I walk among the elated
A steady diet of cig breaks
And my stomach keopectated
Helps me excrete the stress
That's overtaken me of late
Close my eyes to gain a reprieve
But all I do is dream out my fate
I’ll keep my eyes on the watch
Until my tiny pupils dilate
I’ll keep my eyes on the watch
Until my spirituality forsakes

For health and beauty I wait
I’m shielded from the sun
Maintain my composures
‘Cuz I don’t want to seem undone
And like this life ‘o mine
I know it ain’t all no fun
Some days I wanna pick-up
And just run, run, run
From this place and myself
I see nothin’ more left
So like a wandering nomad
I leave to go and find what’s best
But I know I can’t see naked
Until my eyes are undressed
So I remove my sunglasses
To reveal to me what’s blessed

I got a family to consider
No they ain’t here yet
But, I feel the living inside me
Like my heart in my chest
I want to earn to be dead
Nonetheless, I spearhead my life
I want more than status quo
I want more than children and a wife
I don’t want no inner strife
But I use it as motivation
All I want is to find inner peace
Now I’m preaching to the congregation
I wanna feel whole again
I’m sick of human segregation
‘Cuz if we continue down this path
It’ll be I seeking separation

I want, I want cleansing rains
To cascade over me
Remove the rust from my eyes
So I can finally see
Though the world ain’t great
What I think is bad, can’t be
Because no culture of people should
Have to suffer while the rest are at feast
Daily, like my warm showers
Or my cool, calculated thoughts
‘Cuz peace of mind comes internally
Can’t be store bought
So linger in your mind, I will. . .until you say,
"Thank Lord Almighty for just this one more day!"

Brooklyn (no where near finished)

Under the Brooklyn moonlight, I try to get my mind right for the dusting of visuals about to overcome me.

I throw on my baggiest jeans, air max 95s, grab my clippers to sharpen my edges now it’s time for me to hit the streets

It’s difficult to describe a day in Brooklyn, it’s just something you'll have to come to any neighborhood and allow yourself to see

No place I know is so beautifully violent with all my peoples hanging on street corners, playing cee-lo, rockin' sporting jerseys

And we set in our ways, we work hard through the night, exciting fights, low lights and then morning arises and we’re okay

But that’s when we sleep watching the sun seep and burn away like incents or a candle in the middle of the day.

And when the moon awakens, so do our minds and like scavengers, we hit the streets to find our next living prey

It’s not always food sometimes it’s just a fix that we need to sustain us as we spiral through time and exist our lives away

We’re ignoble and emblematic of a state of mind that is tough and trendy like Scarface or any other sweet and turbulent snafu

So we chastise our own selves because we can’t believe that our lives are long, yet list of accomplishments short like some deranged haiku

And our children? They’re spearheading the way with a patience unknown as they search for their own comeuppance

Unpalatable static, enigmatic and we try and understand the “Stubborn” in them with their suggestive attire, wish they’d give that up for Lent

Can't tell a young cat that 87 degrees is a reason to not rock a hoodie in the dead middle of summer

Can’t tell him it’s too warm to wear Timbs on his feet, especially when he knows that mid-lows come in springtime colors

We would spend a “hunned” dollars a weekend for disposable cars if we could just to say that for a small spell, we own ‘em

Ain't tryna clown my people, that's just our mentality in the hood and we know it so with each generation we begin to clone ‘em

I reach into my pocket to see what I possess, four dollars cash just enough to get exactly what I need

Walk to the bodega window, “yes sir, let me get a turkey/cheese hero, some Doritos, a Pepsi, a sour apple blow pop and 1 loosie

With a nod, he makes and collects what I ask for, carrying on a conversation in Spanish with his compadre at the Plexiglas windowed store

We exchange goods and services for money, tuck the loosie behind my ear, steppin’ fast, making sure not to let the good Lord split me with the door

This probably could go on forever and will one day, so I’ll stop here