Bad News And The Gospel (Forty-Eight Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Near Salvation) 2013

I got some bad news today My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs! But that's what my whole life has been about, bad fuckin news. So, this was no different. I guess if there is one difference, that would be the fact that I realized at any second, finally I understand, yo ass can die! Oh, sure you know it, went to funerals of loved ones, maybe even seen someone die..all that is fine and good, but what about yo sorry ass? Do you really understand the fact it is only a matter of time when you will be where you are witnessing an individual which you knew was alive and now the mothah fuckah lyin prone in a box? Just ready for the shit to go south, into the ground? Does yo sorry ass really understand that? Really? Well My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs; alas, I must say you are way better than me. Because my ass being just 48 years old didn't see it comin! Sure for othah mothah fuckahs, but not to my broke down ass! But, "It is finished! Amen!"

Time for My Black ass to shine before the fuckin lights go out for the last time on my Black ass. Damn right bout that! So I'm goin to write a story fo y'alls asses that has some joy! How bout that fo my sorry ass? Time tah see some goodness in this piece of shit life! My Blessed God! And here we go...

___________________________________________________________________________

Sometimes this guy I know, he gets too rapped up in the dark side. But you see, every once in awhile he has to let himself feel and experience the warm essence of the Son! A balance if you will so he will not go completely mad. Maybe taking a .380, jacking one in the chamber and...Yao Ming? He cannot allow himself to become a Nicolatian. No, that would defeat the purpose of wandering blind in the darkness. He is dwelling there for a time for just that reason, to quell his self-righteousness. He must, not shall, every once in awhile peek out and let the Son shine on him. Then and only then the justification is solidified of what he will eventually allow his body to be overcome by...the effulgent essence of the universe! And that...is a Beautiful thang! Oh, yes it is! Check it out My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs. I entitled this one...


Opportunity Knocks

Reality Sets In (Forty-Six Years Old, Non-Custodial Male Parent) 2012

As in life, there was nothing more to do but tarry. That’s all life is really, oft times sitting at your various locale and waiting for things to happen. Productive of course in nature but not in the adverse. The downside of that waiting game is oft times it takes too damn long, but I guess waiting has no time limit on it less there is one given and in this instance there wasn’t. This could take a very long time, years; maybe ten years or longer. I had to understand that. You see, when one, like I, has decided there is nothing else I can do to expedite the situation or to come to some type of relative conclusion or should I say acquiescence, there is no other option but to be patient and be of good will because all I was doing before was wasting time, effort and energy, which I am not replete with either of the three being 4 6 years of age.

And I guess too I have realized through all of the travails of custody disputes that I cannot fight against what is. And ‘what is’ is a traditional mindset in the juvenile courts and divorce courts that says, the child should be with the momma until…and that until was and is variant and rare. What is; what was; what has always been, is almost impossible to fight against. But, “Egypt wasn’t built in a day,” nor too our various ideological mindsets, oft times rooted in religiosity. It is a waste of time most often than not to tell an individual they have been wrong in their given staple that they have been force fed most of their collective lives, religion; which our judicial system is rooted in. When one dissects a system one must look at the little things and broaden out not the other way around. Good things always start with good intentions then parasitic microbes adhere to it and eventually take over the host; hence, “ Welcome to the present parasitic state!”

The Parentless Generation (Forty-Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 2005

Nobody wants tah take accountability for their own lives. No one. Just want tah keep blamin their Mommas' and Daddys' and they don't want tah evah look at the fact their asses are grown like a mah fuckah. When the fuck yo ass gonnah grow up? Shiit! I mean, good goddamned, yo ass is past the age of suffrage with yo no count havin ass. The fuck you thinkin? Yo old ass is free tah make your own mah fuckin choices now. Don't be usin Momma and Daddy as an excuse so yo tired ass can be a lazy fuckin parent. Got fuckin parents lettin their child or children run the fuck free, gettin intah all kinds of shit, cause, "My parents were so strict!" So the fuck what mah fuckahs! So that means you just don't give yo child no structure or discipline at-the-fuck-all? Just sit the fuck back and let the winds take care of the shit? "Lettin the marketplace dictate" the way yo child or children are going to behave as an adult? How the fuck that make any goddamned sense? Please tell a niggah cause he really would like tah know?

Got mah fuckahs talkin bout their parents in a bad mah fuckin way! And what the fuck do you know? Yo mah fuckin ass has turned out just like their no count havin asses, yo ass avowin every fuckin time for anyone tah hear. "My Father worked all the time! He was never there for us!" And look at cha? Got children and yo sorry ass workin twelve tah sixteen hours a fuckin day! The fuck? "My parents were never home, they were always working. I'm so damaged from that!" So, why the fuck you and your spouse workin all the fuckin time?

Then you got these no count males and these silly ass women sayin, "Well child rearing is all about the Mother. It's the Mother's responsibility." You stupid Bastard and Bitch you! Cause that's what yo fucked up thinkin ass sounds like, somebody that don't know parenting and the othah from not the human animal. Cause the shit happens that way in the animal kingdom cause they not sentient but for our rational ass that shit is a fuckin lie! Straight up! Ain't no goddamned Mother or Father got nothin tah do with it, that just tells yah the fact of the two people that were involved in the procreation process. Now, parenting is a whole nother thang all togethah! Momma or Daddy or Both togethah, it's about fucking parenting. I don't give a good fuck of traditional fucked up thinkin! That shit is pass-the-fuck-er! For real!

We are fuckin humans! Damnit! Ain't no dogs, or cats, or tigers, or bears... Oh, My! Nah, mah fuckahs we should know the fuck better! We should! But we don't! Hear mah fuckahs talkin that shit, "Well we work so much so our children can have a better life than we did." Well why in the fuck you done told me some bullshit bout Momma or Daddy, or both, not bein there when yo lyin ass was growin up? So, the shit you doin ain't bout those children at-the-fuck-all! No, what it is about is yo ass! Let's just get the shit right! Cause children just wants tah be round yo ass, they don't care about the othah shit really. Cause if yah around and payin their asses the attention they deserve yah can teach them about not havin this materialistic fucked up ideology that is so pervasive today! Don't play with me! The fuck I look like!

That's why these mah fuckahs buyin their child or children all these PlayStations, Cell Phones, $150 tennis shoes...Cause they don't wantah fuckin parent. Shiiit, it's easy tah throw money at those mah fuckahs! Here, you little mah fuckah! Take it! Here's a hundred dollahs! Now get the fuck out my face! Yao Ming? But the hard mah fuckah is tah put that time and emotionality they so very need. We better recognize! And what the fuck does a little mah fuckah need a goddamned cell phone for any fuckin way! Once again, parenting from a-fuckin-far! Cause if yah really was doin yo fuckin job you wouldn't have tah keep up with yo child by a goddamned cell phone! And we wonderin why this world is so fucked up now! Puh-leeze mah fuckahs! We's some absurd mah fuckahs! And that ain't no Beautiful thang at all! Just sad! Sad Awhile! Too fuckin sad!

Peace! More to come...

I Must Live Because...(Thirty-Three Years Old, Iraq War Veteran, Male, Triple Amputee) 2012

I want to walk amongst the trees, feel the bees buzzing.

I want to swim in the seas, at ease, as I tease life and death.

I want to run in the sun, feel the earth under my feet as I retreat into another facet, a mindset beset on truth which will take me far beyond the heavens.

I want to see humanity come together as one; but I'll never witness the Son...

I want to die...but I don't want to die alone.

Playing God And Being God (Forty-Six Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 2012

Sorry ass mothah fuckahs havin these babies and can't take care of'em! Can't-the-fuck take care of one and havin the nerves tah have another one...then maybe even another, then another...Shame fo God! Supersillymothafuckas! Gotsta nerve tah play God then yo sorry ass don't wantah be responsible for said creations. The fuck! Shiit, God sayin tah yo no count havin ass, "Get some You! Get some! Now you see how I feel with billions of y'alls stupid asses!"

Then we wantah sit up there on our knees and pray fo the lawd tah help our insolent, arrogant, ignant asses; as parents and co-creators? The fuck times two! The lawd ain't helpin yo sorry ass with yo creations cause you done drank the kool-aid and eaten from the forbidden tree, the sacred tree of creation. The jig is up Son! God sayin to our asses, "I tried to tell yah! Oh, yes I did! Now look what yo sorry ass done went and done! Why do I waste my time with y'alls ignant asses? But if yah gonnah play God, then be God! And welcome to the party My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs!"

And that My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs...is a Beautiful thang! Oh, yes it is!

Peace! More to come...

Hit It, One More Time And Quit It! (Black Stoner) 1980

I’m flying again to begin the healing needed for true feeling; sealing the doubts throughout my life which have been leaking. The atmosphere unclogging the pores then restores the power which has been lost. The cost of not having faith in my five senses of truth. The Heavens imbuing the sixth so I can recognize, finally realize the wasted energy spent. In an altered state where my fate waits for me to exact; enact the pact of a disavowed belief. Rejuvenating ever more each time I soar; letting the universe do its chore; tarrying, while my spirit charges up, getting rich; my soul purging the poor.

Give Me Another Hit! (Forty-Six Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 2011

Pick your poison muh fuckah! Life is a fuckin drug too! And just like any drug you partake in for a very long time it takes ovah and eventually you die from knowin said drug of choice, such as in life. We die from this drug of life! Fuckin die son! Oh, yes we do! Got us so strung out so bad we just can't help but to keep inhalin the shit.

Good goddamned! That's some good ass shit! While yah playin! Talkin bout this Oxy, Ron, Crack, Meth...pick your poison muh fuckah! But this shit here! Shiiiit! This muh fuckah got all us humans hooked like a muh fuckah! Shakin and cryin out for mercy just tah keep puttin this drug of living into our being until our dyin breath! Wishin we just had one more hit of this here life! Shiiit! Fuck That!

We all some Life-Heads! But my sorry ass will gracefully and gratefully decline this bad ass shit when it gets passed to me again. Fuck that! Yah heard may? Just say,"No"! Goddamnit! Gotstah get my ass clean! Yao Ming?

And that my Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs...is A Beautiful Thang! Oh, yes it is! Peace! More to come...

Stop All The Bullshit! And Start Making This World A Better Place! (Forty-Six Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 2011

Time! Muh fuckin time! It's runnin the fuck out! Oh, yes it is. And the bad thang bout that shit is, that all these muh fuckahs wastin their precious time sinnin with the flesh, having ideological avarice, covetin and shit. Muh fuckahs puh-leeze! Look around your sorry ass and start concentratin and thankin your lucky stars bout the shit yo ass is blessed with today! Quit all that wantin bullshit! Oh, I just gotstah have that new dick or pussy I met today! I know I'm yo friend but I ain't helpin yo ass with shit unless I get paid! Why the fuck that muh fuckah got a ride like that rollin on 24's and I don't?...Shiit! I deserve all that! Cause yah only live once!

Really? Well I'll be fuckin damned! I hope yo sorry ass is right bout that livin once shit. I hope the fuck fo yo sorry ass sake! For real! Yah can't fool a recoverin foolah, that's fo damn sho! Nor lie tah a recoverin liah! Yah heard may?

Love yah My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs! I really do! Hollah back! Or just fuckin hollah. It's all just frozen ice! And that My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs...well, you know. Peace! More to come...

The Creator (Male, Tribe Person, Aspiring Writer) 2016

I was getting ready to write when I saw on the piece of writing paper that it was dirty, had some type of residual dirt from a hand or something being placed on it...So I peeled it off and threw it away. Sat back down. Looked at the now unblemished piece of paper on the front of the tablet I had resting on my lap. Was pleased. "Perfect," I thought to myself. And started putting pen to paper on the Eden which was present in pure form.

Eden started to become blemished but with the creation of my hand, mind and ink. The world was starting to come alive, sin. I began creating the genesis of a world and life that was finally going to make some fucking sense!

Society's Bill Collector To The Federal Government (Segment From Revolutionists Group Weekly News Letter, "Time Bomb") 2015

One, two, three it’s easy in this sleazy way of subsisting; existing to only labor always to favor a better way of living; giving to our fellow humans who have not a can of Spam to eat. Unseat the neat politically dressed, deaf and blind figures, savors the delectable caviar and wine while they dine for some time while the poverty stricken whine. Pulling twine as this world unwinds through the sands of time; crimes happening at an astronomical rate. Satiate the criminal mind as the lines get snorted and reported. Purported a retort; sorted as first class but laughing with their crass way they delay the humanistic way. Payday is today! Give me my due diligence, my money with your insolent, arrogant, ignorant ass! Nothing is funny as my life has been thrown and slaved away; laboring for a pittance, a remittance of someone giving birth. My self worth has been compromised, analyzed and finalized. What a surprise! No prize unless I demand the payment swiftly. Time is running out getting closer to my due date pitifully. I’ll hate to slay you before I get paid, you have never answered any of my numerous collection calls. The gun is cocked, don’t wait too late; or I just might have to shoot off all your sorry, nasty, hairy, wrinkly, pea size balls.

Opportunity Knocks (Forty-Eight Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Near Salvation) 2013

Sometimes this guy I know, he gets too rapped up in the dark side. But you see, every once in awhile he has to let himself feel and experience the warm essence of the Son! A balance if you will so he will not go completely mad. Maybe taking a .380, jacking one in the chamber and...Yao Ming? He cannot allow himself to become a Nicolatian. No, that would defeat the purpose of wandering blind in the darkness. He is dwelling there for a time for just that reason, to quell his self-righteousness. He must, not shall, every once in awhile peek out and let the Son shine on him. Then and only then the justification is solidified of what he will eventually allow his body to be overcome by...the effulgent essence of the universe! And that...is a Beautiful thang! Oh, yes it is! Check it out My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs. I entitled this one...


Opportunity Knocks


There was a knock at the door, which surprised him because there was no one that he knew that would be knocking. As a matter of fact there was no one. Shit, he had no friends. So he had not a clue who it could possibly be? He never made any noise unless he accidentally dropped something on the floor. He had a 1000 watt stereo system he only listened to through his three hundred dollar headphones. He listened to the television the same way but with separate headphones, the wireless kind where he could go all through his apartment and not miss what was transpiring by audio. He was a very light walker because of eighteen years being under a roof with a Father that didn’t want to hear him walk, nor his Mother either for that matter. His Father being the type he would be in his room doing something, minding his own business and all of the sudden he would feel a presence and turn around and his Father would be right next to him, or behind him, smiling and his Father would state to him how long he had been in that very space without him knowing. So, he and his Mother did the same. Both getting very good at it, but not as good as his Father was at it.

Another knock and he looked at his door. By the sound of it he would guess it was a woman at the door. Not a loud knock, just enough of one to make the person inside, he, to realize someone was on the other side. And that had him stumped because he hadn’t a woman, no lady friend for some eight years now. Maybe the person had the wrong apartment, seeing as that he lived in a secured building where one had to buzz the given apartment of the one they wished to visit and the other would buzz the visitor in. He took another drag off the cigarette he was working on. There was a long pause, longer than the time from the first knock to the second so he shrugged and looked back at the computer screen and began typing again. Definitely the wrong apartment. Then he heard three knocks in succession, still with the same characteristic, no malice or urgency and definitely female.

He stubbed out his smoke and walked to his door. He had a peephole but he never used it. His Father’s conditioning again, “If someone knocks on your door Lil’ Man never be afraid to open it. Open that damn thing real wide and look at them and say, “The fuck you want!”” He never did that. Never had to, again living in a secure building now and before he just didn’t get visitors period. He wasn’t mad or disturbed, as a matter of fact, he was a little excited that someone was finally at his door, knocking for whatever reason. He still put on the sternest face he could muster, not intimidating but he would hope at least feigning irritability. He unlocked the two deadbolts turned the knob, opened the door wide and his face instantly softened. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met or seen. Now he was totally perplexed.

“How can I help you beautiful lady?” He asked. When the opportunity arose such as this one he was always on point. Even if she did have the wrong apartment he was going to speak what was in his heart. Again his Father’s words, “Boy, whenever you come across a looker. Listen to me now. Like your Mother. Never-I-mean-never, have a loss for words. You might only get that one shot! State facts, ones the woman will know are true and genuine. Not some come on. If they look that good they done heard all the bullshit. No, say it conversationally like you would say, “Good morning.” Throws them for a loop. Now they concentrate on you. Believe me when I tell you! Just look at me and look at your Mother and tell me if I’m not right? Ask her how we met? Shit, I seized the opportunity! For real young blood!” And he had been correct in this instance because this beautiful woman in front of him let out the most wondrous luminous smile he had ever witnessed. She did not say a word for a long time. She just was looking at him with that smile which he could have viewed until his heart stopped and died. “Keep it togethah baby! Just keep it togethah,” was his mantra to himself as he continued to awe in this living masterpiece before him. Come on in, make yourself comfortable for god’s sake! Can I fix you something to eat? Shiiiiit! Just stay with this poor soul for a moment. Make his day or life while yah playin. Just let me be in your presence for a time, Sunshine. What can a Brothah do for you? Of course he did not say this aloud but he wanted to. All those thoughts were running through his mind as he took in her essence. Stand there as long as you want, I have a lifetime. Then she finally spoke.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bother you…” She said.

“No problem at all. Believe me, My Sweet Sistah. What in the world has happened in my life to be so fortunate for someone with such beauty to be rapping on this poor soul’s door?” He said with a warm sincere smile all the while. And she laughed. Sweet beautiful laughter. Head ever so slightly moving back enjoying this moment like he surely was. She caught his gaze once more, with the softest look in her lineaments, making his heart melt. Speak the truth Morgan. If she doesn’t have a man then she will have one after this encounter, or at least a very good friend if it be her will because it surely was his.

“You need to quit it.” She said still trying to abate the laughter.

“I wish I could but I think that would be an impossibility. Based on the remarkable human being who befalls these eyes, from not a minute ago, which were so sore,” he said again conversationally and with warmth. And there it was again, that joyous enraptured laughing and he could have died at that moment and the universe would have been so kind to him for this being his last thing he had ever seen in this lifetime. But he was glad that he hadn’t died because he was so filled with the lovely emotion that was going on within his soul. He had opened the door into sunlight and it was shining so brightly on him. Keep on shining you lovely woman, he said to himself.

“I needed this. I really did! Thank you for your kind words. You just don’t know how this day started.” She said.

“Kind is a word of pontification in my lexicon. No, I am speaking truths. Believe me. Alas; I understand this is not something one like I can continue because one like you surely have better things to do then to listen to me speaking said truths. I would surely like to indulge you for an eternity if I were permitted. But I would not want to keep you from, which I surely know, is a very fulfilling life.” He said. She looked at him for a time with that smile, those white straight teeth beaming at him. Morgan didn’t know for how long but it didn’t matter. He didn’t know what she was thinking, or what she might be trying to figure out. Time had stopped and if it were left up to him he would break every timepiece in existence. She kept looking into his eyes and finally she spoke
.
“My name is Elaine! I know this might sound crazy but I just had a thought. Do you have any coffee?’ She asked.

“And My name is Morgan. I am no Psychologist or Psychiatrist but you sound quite sane. And to answer your query, I absolutely do! Seattle ’s Best is the best. Would you like to join me in a cup on this start of a magnificent day, Elaine?” He asked.

“I would like that Morgan! I really would,” she said.

“Well like that no more, because it is as good as done! Let us partake in the morning liquid communion. My dear Elaine.” He said. Bowed and stepped aside so this angelic figure could pass.

“Thank you,” she said and floated into his humble abode.

(To be continued...)


Oh, it will have such a sweet ending. I just can't wait to see where my mind takes this lighthearted whimsical story. Peace! More to come...

Meredith

The Last Appointment? 2013

“So what’s the verdict?” I asked the doctor.

“Meredith. I don’t know what to say?” The doctor said to me earnestly.

“Well, to take a little bit of pressure off of you. You don’t have to say anything. I already knew. Bad?” I asked.

“The worst,” Doctor Whiteman said.

“Well, thank you Doctor Whiteman,” I said getting up from the chair.

“You don’t want to know what kind?” The doctor asked with surprise.

“Not at all Doctor Whiteman. I don’t have any insurance to defend it. And if it is indefensible I really don’t want to know the little time that I have. It’s okay,” I said.

“Really?” The doctor responded quizzically.

“Really,” I said.

“Well. I don’t know. Ethically I should tell you. I’m sorry Meredith. I really am, but…” Doctor Whiteman started looking pained.

“Don’t be,” I said cutting him off, “You’re just the messenger,” as I extended my hand to Doctor Whiteman and the doctor accepted it, giving me a firm handshake.

“Meredith I really have to…” Doctor Whiteman started to say again.

“I really don’t want to hear it. And you can document that in my patient’s history section if you like. Whatever that will do for you or me.”

“Well, good luck,” the doctor said.

“That won’t be necessary,” I said and winked at him and gave him a smile, turned and left the doctor’s office.

I Have Reached The Time And The Way (Thirty-Five Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 2000

You always learn. Always. It may not be the way that you envisioned but some way, some how yo sorry ass gonnah fuckin learn. Shiit! And the bad thing about it is, there's only two ways to do it: the hard way or the easy way. And for some, fucked up conditioning, reason we always choose the former. Don't we? I mean shit, what the fuck is wrong with our sorry asses? What's so hard with choosing the easy way? Is it not challenging enough for US? Do we get bored with the easy approach so we make the shit hard on our asses time and time again for the sake of evading the dreaded ennui? The fuck? But our asses learn even though we choose that muh fuckin hard ass way most the fuckin time. What's your fuckin point muh fuckah? You maybe askin yourself right now. Well, hell, I'll indulge you since you asked so kindly. Ain't no shame in my game or in the lack thereof.

My fuckin point is, no mattah how things make sense, or how things can facilitate another's life...by another one's advice, one has tah learn in their own time and in their own way. No gettin around it. Cause we all stupid muh fuckahs. Thinkin somehow we have all the answahs, and by doin this or doin that we can fix the shit that's goin awry with a given significant othah in a relationship. But what does yo ass find out aftah all the shit is said and done? That's right, there are no Mr. or Ms. Fix-Its. No mattah how hard you try muh fuckah that shit just ain't gonnah be fixed no mattah what yo sorry ass tries tah do. It just ain't gonnah happen. Yo ass gonnah fail at the task at hand I don't care what kind of diplomatic skills you think you possessin. Just a fuckin waste of time. But waste of time we must do because our asses have to learn...in our own way and in our own time. Sans the excellent advice yo ass done given me prior to. Fuck that shit! I had tah learn the shit my way goddamnit!

And the Beautiful thang bout that, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs, I have found my own way. And it has transpired in my own time. And so it will be the same for you too! My Blessed God! A Beautiful thang! Oh, yes it is!

Peace! More to come...

The Truth! The Whole Truth! And Nothing But The Truth! Really? (Male, Tribe Person) 1992

I remember when I was a child. I would do something wrong and Mommy would say,"If you tell me the truth boy, I won't punish you." I would tell her the truth and get punished anyway. Maybe not whooped, but definitely punished. It was quite puzzling to me. Why? If I did the right thing, by telling the truth, why was I punished? The concept of telling the truth puzzled me when I was a child and continues to puzzle me.

I remember when I was dating a young lady, she told me, "If you tell me about the other girl you've been seeing, and tell me the truth, we'll talk and continue to see one another." I told her the truth to the smallest detail. She dropped me like a bad habit.

I remember again the time a State Trooper pulled me over and asked, "Do you know how fast you were going?" I told him with the utmost sincerity and truthfulness, "Around 88 miles per hour." He gave me a ticket for 88 miles per hour.

There was also the time when an ex-friend asked me about how I thought his fiancee looked? I told him with the truthfulness only a friend could understand or I thought could comprehend. I said to him, "She's fuckin ugly and I think you could do much better than her. Shiiit!" He eventually married her but he hasn't spoken with me since that second.

The Truth always seems to get me into trouble. Most of the time negativeness only comes out of telling someone the truth. People don't seem to want the truth. They would prefer lies. Which would be more pacifying and a hell of a lot less trouble. Yeah, no one wants the truth.

And that's...The Truth!

Again And Again by Morgan Lambert Hopson II, 2015

While walking past your house,
I stopped in front;
Saw you come out;
You turned and waved
And smiled warmly.
You walked to your car,
Got in, and backed out of your driveway;
Pausing...
Another wave;
Another smile.
I reciprocated these actions,
As I watched you turn and
Guide your car down the street
And fade away.
Thinking of you;
Taking deep breaths;
I realized I was daydreaming;
But it was all just as real.
I took a step;
And a step usually leads to more steps;
I was walking again;
Progressing.
Now past your abode;
Left in my wake;
My steps are lighter now.
I have had another pleasant thought
Of you once more.

Incurable Disease (Twenty-Five Years Old, Tribe Person, Poetess) 2007

What Simon Says,
Isn't to eat Pez;
More likely, an over ripened
And over priced cheese,
From the mold you'll wheeze and sneeze.

Maybe, even, seize
From the toxicity
Your body resistantly
Can't handle,
From the numerous candles
You have burned to appease.

Put up, or shut up;
Panhandle to feed the pup;
Out in the freezing cold
As you shake your paper cup,
Cause of the self viability you haven't quite sold.

Behold the land of opportunity,
Is not what it's quite hyped up to be.
Smacked up, cracked up, methed up...
Maybe even a white powdered dress,
You have avowed, you have confessed,
Came floating seductively during your distress?

Whatever the case maybe;
We still struggle with poverty.

Pray Time Is Over! (Thirty-Five Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 2000

Sometimes muh fuckahs! Sometimes yo sorry ass can sit up there and wait...and wait...and wait...Yah see what I'm gettin at? Not only is yo Black ass tarryin, but yah sittin up there prayin tah boot! Now, ain't that some shit?

Prayin that tired shit, "Why can't she just love me lawd?" Or, "Why can't he just love me lawd?"

Well, I'll tell yah why? Cause the Lawd done left yo stupid ass tah yo'self cause yo ass ain't been listenin tah the Lawd, negro. Hell! No! Yo ass been listenin tah yo own damn self! And the Lawd you been prayin to been done said, "That Love shit yo sorry ass been prayin and waitin fo ain't goin tah fuckin happen muh fuckah! Been asked and answered a long fuckin time ago! Move the fuck ohn! Fuck yah, feed yah, I don't need yah! With yo non-listenin selfish, sorry, brokedown ass! You damned Heathen!"

And that, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs, I'm glad tah tell yah, is a Beautiful Thang! Oh, yes it is!

Peace! More to come...

Analogous (Female, Tribe Person, Philosophy Major at Butler University) 2011

Defining oneself is easy but what one falls trap to is defining the ones who they care about utilizing the same information that one has at there given disposal of themselves. That, in and of itself, is flawed. Though one may come from the same tree which made the same fruit as another, one cannot lay claim to the variances of the given fruit: the integrity of that sole fruit, what strains were put on that given fruit, how much nutrients that fruit received while ripening, the thickness of the skin…Though from the same tree that fruit did not form in the same way or from the same place as another; hence, one fruit can have a different character after ripening has transpired. Subtle variances can cause catastrophic outcomes and notwithstanding the outside influences of another organism which may invade just one or more fruits of that same tree and cause great disturbances to the ripening process or cause that given fruit to die even before the time of it’s ripe old age.

And we are no different.

This Life Is As High As You Are Going To Get (Recovering Heroin Addict) 2002

Three pints of libation causes the satiation to be gratified.
My soul utilizing chemical means to absolve myself
From this existence, never ratified.

A hazy view of hope comes into scope;
Liquid dope infused into my left vein
Will cause a sullied stain.

The brain even feeling pain on its surface as
I try to breakthrough face first;
Into another life of purifying future thirst.

I must finally abstain while the rain pounds
Upon my body of mixed emotions.
There has never been a panacea, nor ever will.
No magic potions.
No magic pill.

Eutopia (Twenty-Six Years Old, Female, Third Generation Environmentally Induced Welfare Recipient) 1996

We Black folks that I see around here lookin ghetto as evah? Wearin the garb is our badge of honah. Proud tah be ghetto. Don't know what else to do that is bettah than bein, shiit... ghetto!

Speak correctly? Shiiiit! What cho sorry ass think ebonics is all about? Our fuckin language up in this hurr Eutopia! While yah playin. Dress appropriately given the occasion? Now, you needs tah quit it! We's got our own style goddamnit, don't yah see? We have our ghetto braids. Our ghetto pants off of our perspective asses. Our ghetto stare (just waitin fo a mah fuckah tah say somethin to us so we can pop off crazy, even if it is just sayin a greetin, we are goin tah look menacin and maybe even kick yo Black or white ass. Whatevahs clevah). Our ghetto neighborhoods (not neighborhoods at all but they do resemble somethin akin tah a barren wasteland and a war zone)with no grass tah speak of, just dirt. Our ghetto children (who have the ghetto braids too and will pop ah cap in yo sorry ass quicker than shit fo no damn reason at all). Our ghetto automobiles (rides that cost more than the property we lives on and in)...on and on it goes.

Work? The fuck you thinkin? We don't fuckin work! What's wrong with you? No one works in Eutopia. That's fo damn sho! Be for real! We have everything we want or need without workin. Who would want tah work for the "Man" ? Now, I'll be a slave in the "Man's" institutions: Stateville, Pendleton, Michighan City...But not in the outside world, where freedom is. Nah suh. This hurr is a place of freedom. Don't cha see? We worked hard fo ovah four hunahd yeeahs. We at least deserve some rest and relaxation, a lil R and R. Fuck that and the cat in the hat!

Shiit, if yah want tah look at it, on the real, we really didn't get our freedom til the 1970's. So whah? We really only been free some...thirty yeeahs and some change? If that. Yeah, we deserve a break. That's where this place spawns from, freedom. It's good tah be free let me tell yah! "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty! Free at last!" Ain't that what Mart'n Luthah the King said?

All that goddamned workin we did back durin the slave times. The ghetto is our sanctuary! Don't mind the bullets and poverty none. I'm tellin yah. If there is heaven on Earth this would be the place. No one is tryin tah leave hurr. Believe me when I tell yah this. No one has tried tah leave in...oh...some thirty yeeahs tah be exact. Love this place so much. No othah place tah be. No place on Earth where you don't have tah mow yo lawn, go tah work, dress like white folks, talk like white folks...Cheapest place tah live, as long as, yah see? Yah don't start makin alot of money. But who in their right mind would want tah do that and leave Eutopia? Naw negro! Yah see anyone around hurr crazy? Ain't nobody bustin down no doors tah get away from hurr. I'm tellin yah! Everybody's tryin tah stay! People even tryin tah make the population of this place ten tah twenty fold, how they's havin babies.

Well, well! Look at that! There are some expectin Mothers there! "How yah doin Lil Mamas?" Look at'em. With their cute selves. Each one of their hands and bellies full with othah future Eutopians. I told yah chil! I told yah! No one's tryin tah leave this place. No-one! Population increasin one and a half percent on a daily basis. Yah bettah get in, while yah can fit in! I'll tell yah that.

Come on in and join us. Even if yah don't want tah stay fo a lifetime you will want tah stay awhile. Except when those bullets start flyin. But don't you worry none bout that. I'll show yah how tah avoid'em. And once you've mastered that, I'll show yah how not tah get on the gang membahs bad side, and...Oh, there are so many things tah experience, learn and to do hurr. Believe me when I tell you this.

And just you wait til you meet the people of law enforcement. Oh, sho they can be mean and kill some of us. But they don't mean no lick of harm. They are just actin crazy. Those crazy boys. Yah know, "boys will be boys!" I guess I should include the women of law enforcement, but shiit, they don't have any of the female persuasion patrollin our lil happy place. I wonder why? Anyway, come on in hurr! We'll show yah ah good time! Believe me when I tell yah this!

And the gov'ment? The gov'ment peoples will gives yah all yah need tah exist hurr, food stamps, shelter, birth control pills, condoms, health benefits...Yah know, if yah lil inclined fo a walk on the wild side...Oh, come on now! You knows what I'm talkin bout...Okay! Damn! Puff-puff-pass...Yah see! I knew yah weren't that naive. Well, on the D-L, yah know yah can turn those food stamps intah cash. Yah know what I mean? Don't be lookin all surprised like that. I'm tellin yah, who in their right mind is tryin tah leave this wonderful place? No one! That's who! This is the place tah be!

Why do yah think the gov'ment gives us all of these lux'ries? You know that's right! Payin us back fo all those yeeahs of oppression and slavery. Damn right bout that! They owe me my welfare check. All the work my ancestors did back then. I shouldn't have tah work at all, my whole lifetime, and I'm what now...twenty-six yeeahs old. I know, how time flys. It seems somehow, I am older than that. But now that I think of it...I guess I am only twenty-six. This is the way tah go though. Belive me when I tell yah this.

Oh, look at me just babblin out of control chil! Come on in! Join us! Just look at all those white folks that have the same kind of neighborhoods as we do. Now, I don't know how in the world theys gettin a sweet deal like we's gettin. They's been free as long as we were enslaved and still gettin R and R. I'm goin tah have tah speak with my congress man bout that. You's know all of us hurr could use dat money they's gettin. And it's a pretty penny, let me tell yah!

Just look at me carryin on chil. Come on in! Take a load off! How did that actor with that ugly lil man on that show go? Oh, I remember, "Welcome to Fantasy Island!"

A Christmas Donning by Morgan Lambert Hopson II, 2014

There were shining lights sparkling bright,
In the wintertime which was such an handsome sight.
All the sparkling vibrant hues
With red, white, green, yellow but mostly blue.
The snow was falling all around as I viewed
Such Beauty of the environment,
A quaint interlude.

Tis A Good Place To Rest (Male, Weary Tribe Person, Poverty Stricken) 2008

Throw me into the ground,
Without a sound,
Or a tear.
Never fear!
No more weeping
Ever more.
I am seeping
Into the place where I lie sleeping;
Whence I came from before.

From Green To Blue (Male In A Toxic Love Relationship) 2003

Oh, I have to leave you,
My fine lady in green!
Alas, my heart will pine for you hence forth,
Til death reaches thine aged chafed lips;
Arid from your lack of nectar to thine soul.
But I'll be back...
Soon I hope.
I'll always come back!
Whether I can stay with you forever?
Thine heart painfully aches
And ponders that very query;
Every second of our
Last days.

The Trust Store: Always Open For Loving Business (Thirty-Four Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 1999

Fuck men! Fuck Women! Or whateva's cleva. Pick your poison muh fucka! Pick yo motha fuckin poison! Shiiit! With yo silly ass. Oh, I'm sorry yo sorry ass feelins got so hurt! Tisk, tisk! We can't have that, can we now? Gonna close up yo, now, rundown sto cause one motha fucka stole from yo monkey ass? The fuck that shit bout? Hunh? Do you have any idea how many stores done got some of their shit stolen? Oh, you do. Well, why'd ya close up shop then? The same shit yo stupid ass was sellin, is the same tired shit they sellin too. And looky there! Those motha fuckas still sellin their tired ass shit! Still the fuck open! Gots to! If ya wants ta survive in this here life! What good is the lil trust you lost if ya keep the rest of the shit all closed up, not for the partaken for otha motha fuckas that will appreciate yo shit? Please tell a niggah! Goddamnit! Oh, the fuck was I thinkin? Yo shit too damn good and priceless fo some sorry ass ta take. Cause, believe me it was a sorry ass motha fucka that took some of yo shit! Best believe that noise! For real!

So, listen here, with yo broke ass self. Open yo sorry ass Trust Store up again. Dress yourself up like you used to. Put a smile on yo goddamn Beautiful face. And make that muh fucka who stole from you understand, "You might have stolen from my sorry ass... But I betcha Black ass this much, somebody else may take some of my shit in the future, like yo sorry ass did, but you'll never get the opportunity to take my shit again!"

And put that sign proudly on your Trust Storefront once more:

"Always Open for Loving Business"

Yah heard may?

Peace! More to come...

Fuck Bitterness! Love...Espouse It From The Mountain Tops! (Thirty-Three Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 1998

Yah see, what chew have tah remember, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs, is the fact, you were with that "so-called" loser, Ho, Ho'monger, muh fuckah, bitch, bastard, sorry ass...whatevahthefuck...cause yo ass Loved and still Loves that ass! Oh, yes you do! Point blank! We need tah quit it! Cut out all that bullshit! We some grown asses. We know or knew what the fuck we got our asses into or from. Shiiiiit! While yah playin. And what you have to admit to your sorry, lyin ass, aftah all the shit is said and done, is the fact, the shit wasn't always fuckin bad! Quite the contrary! Oft times it was historic and refreshing tah my sorry, lonely, pathetic life! Fuck whatcha talkin bout! For real! Or why did yah love'em? Or, lets get the shit correct, why do you still Love'em? Don't be ashamed negro! Love is a complex, fucked up emotion no one has evah understood! But don't be ashamed for your Love of that perceived fucked up muh fuckah! Fuck that! You can't fool a recoverin foolah! Nor can yo sorry pitiful ass, lie to a recoverin liah! Stop-that-shit! Right-the-fuck-now! Goddamnit! Shutitthefuckup!

We owe it to our being to admit to one and all that, "I don't care bout the fucked up shit I told y'all or the bad shit I feel that Sweet, Fine mothah fuckah done tah me. I'm glad tah tell yah sorry muh fuckahs, I Loved and still Love that muh fuckah! I'm just mad cause I can't figure out how tah make the shit work!" Ummm! Sweet Lawd!

"But since the muh fuckah refuses tah quit fuckin muh fuckahs for fun, for free and for crack! I just had tah tell that ass, "Fuck yah! Feed yah! I don't need yah! With yo stank, Beautiful ass! And the Love I have fo you, like Mellencamp said, "You make it...hurt so good!""

Nig-gah whah? Yah heard my Black Broke ass!

Peace! More to come...

An Idle Mind Ain't No Good Thang! (Thirty-Two Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 1997

Nasty, low-down men fuckin rapin these lil girls and boys! The fuck wrong with US? Now we got women fuckin these lil boys! The fuck wrong with US? Declination is replete in this fucked up You-S-of-fuckin- A! On a fuckin regulah! The fuck...wrong with US, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs?

And yo ignant asses think this shit is gonnah get bettah? I got news fo yo muh fuckin blues with yo no count havin ass, it fuckin ain't! As a mattah of fact the shit is gonnah get hellah worse! When muh fuckahs ain't workin they start feedin their sorry ass prurient interests. And that ain't no good thang at all! Mothah fuckahs gots too much time on their fuckin hands! Too-much-fuckin-time, goddamnit! For real!

Voltaire wrote, "...labor takes care of three great evils: idleness, want and vice."

So put these asses tah work! Mothah fuckahs! Like they do in the military, 4am to 10pm. And if aftah 18 hours, yo ass ain't tired and takin yo sorry ass tah sleep, stll thinkin bout ch'o sick carnal fantasies and pleasures...then shit! Yo ass gonnah work 22 hours a day! Every fuckin day until you get that ass in check! Until yo ass starts understandin the difference between what the body wants and what the body needs with yo silly sick ass! Sleep deprivation is a mothah fuckah! The most dociling torture evah! Let me tell yo ignant ass som'ehn!

And if aftah runnin around, workin, keepin busy fo 22 hours of a 24 hour day doesn't make yo ass think nothing othah than, fuckin gettin some sleep? Then, "Houston! We've got a problem!"

Peace! More to come...

Healing Time (Female Botanist) August 25, 2020

The east winds will come from the west, carrying with it the north and south of dark grayish misery for a time. Sunshine will be lost for a long while. Oh, the seasons will never change. The temperature will be an oven, a furnace, at first; but then the burst of coolness will assure us that she will be done for a spell. Down for a count or two but not out. Fever is always mixed with the chills. Hell never lasts. She’s just telling us we have once again failed. Inhale the smell of the Mother Earth when she is telling us, guiding us with what we need to be freed. Prairie fires aspire to create another climate to regenerate; reformulate the hate. Seeds, once more, need to be replanted and taken care of and grown. Sown from Mary’s DNA without her having to stay. Thank god for that, I must say.