I Am (Female, Revolutionist, Tribes Person) 2019

I am the light which shines through with its first rays of the day to cause billions to stir.

I am the voice which speaks that goes on inside your head saying throughout that same day, “There’s something wrong! Life has to be more than this.”

I am the truth which tears down the lies…

I am!

And so too are You!

Et Tu Notre American Federal Government (Twenty-Four Years Old, Revolutionist, Male, Tribes Person) 2014

USA, is just the business name for America. Put any name you want to on it, it still is America. But the name, America, got put on hold for a fuckin price, a sorry ass business venture.

Let's turn this great country of America into a thriving corporation! And we'll call it, "United States of America!" Got kind of a ring to it? Doesn't It?

Just like our Conseco Field House should be named, Indianapolis Field House. Or our Lucas Oil Stadium should be named, Indianapolis stadium. Shiit! Our old Market Square Arena should have been called...Market Square Arena! Cause it was Our shit! Not a corporation's shit?! Our shit! Goddamnit!

And with the advent of the long standing business sobriquet, "United States of America," this American must deduce...They done stole and sold Our shit! Mothah fuckahs! For real! Lets get the shit back! "By any means necessary!" I heard that! Power to the mothah fuckin people! And you know that's right!

Baggage Claim (Thirty Years Old, Broke Black Prophet (Name Revealed), Pre-Salvation) 1995

The same mothah fuckahs that tells yo sorry ass, "I don't understand," are the same mothah fuckahs that do understand, but for some fucked up conditioned mentality they refuse to acknowledge the shit. Why? Because. Because they are fuckin scared to see this fucked up life the way it is and scared to see what this life has formed them into. And they are scared to acknowledge the fucked up shit they have within their being.

Am I correct? Shiit! I don't fuckin know goddamnit! But that's the way I see the shit. I've looked long and hard into my psyche and just like everybody else, on this fucked up planet, my ass comes with a lot of fucked up baggage that has my name on it, Meredith Singleton Hopson. And on this carousel of life I gotstah claim that fuckin tired ass baggage. Take ownership of my shit! No need for unclaimed baggage. It might as well be empty, shit, as far as the ones that picks the shit up for me and carries my shit to the endless amounts of the baggage thrown on this already heap of refuse of a life. The fuck they gonnah do with it eventually? Open the shit up they'd be sayin, "The fuck was a muh fuckah carryin this shit round for?"

But, I, the owner knows; hence, the reason I have to claim the shit! So mothah fuckahs can learn, understand. Yo ass may think it's worthless baggage, but let me tell you about this lil tidbit here. Oh, and this shit here, you won't believe this...

Well, I'll be damned! Who the fuck knew? My ass certainly did! Best belee dat noise!

If yo ass is a crackhead, shiiit, be an ex-crackhead goddamnit! And don't give ah fuck bout what muh fuckahs say bout the shit, "Once a crackhead, always a crackhead!" If yah wannah embrace that truth...well...I'm glad tah tell yah that truth would and will be correct, you crackhead mothah fuckah! But if yah wannah change yo shit, can't nobody tell you what or who you are or who you'll be! No-fuckin-body! But, I just have one admonition fo yo sorry ass. If crack is one thousand times more addictive than these cigarettes that I smoke and have tried , and still tryin, to give these nasty mothah fuckahs up, all I can say is, sorry for your fuckin choice and luck! Shiiit! And yo ass may just be a crackhead for the rest of yo sorry ass crackhead havin mothah fuckin life! And that ain't no Beautiful thang at all! Fuckin Ugly! It don't fuckin mattah! That's yo fuckin shit! Pick it the fuck up! And claim your fuckin shit! That's all I'm sayin! Yah heard may?

Peace! More to come...

Keep On Dancing (Twenty-Three Years Old, Male, Tribe Person's Poem To His Female Twin Flame) 1984

You are always in my thoughts.
Oh, sometimes you get buried slightly,
In my mind which is full;
Full of life's turmoil and pain.
You are how I bring myself back
To life;
To a little happiness,
For a short while.
You are my escape from this life;
Taking away life's enduring suffering.
You are like a dancer;
Who dances in my thoughts,
Then in an instant
Goes backstage
To return
For encores;
Which I applaud and encourage
With much fervor;
And you comply
To my utter enjoyment.

The Day Doesn't Really Begin Until You Say, "Fuck It!" (Blog Author, Tribe Person, Quasi-Satirist) 2009

You know what I did this mornin, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs? I woke up! That's the first thang My Black ass did, I woke the fuck up! Shiit, if yah don't do that first action, then what's the fuckin point aftah that? So, yo sorry ass gotstah wake up.

The second thang I did was used the bathroom.

The third and fourth thang I did was made a pot of coffee and fired up a cigarette. The last two steps are the most critical aftah the first has been executed of course. The third and the fourth action allows the brain to connect with the body, have tah plug intah this bitch befo the fucked up day begins.

The fifth action that I did was I started fuckin thinkin. Now, I'm awake, relieved myself, drinkin coffee, smokin a cigarette and thinkin. Yah see, it's not the third and fourth that's the problem. Hell no! It's that damn fifth one. The bad fuckin habit, that fuckin fifth step or action. Some would argue the forth also but...whatevah! Everybody thinks. Everybody don't do the fourth action, but that's the fuckin point.

Anyway, the fifth action, along with the third and fourth, the fuckin sorry ass thoughts came about:

"How the fuck am I goin tah pay the IRS close to 4000 dollars in back taxes with my broke ass? I wonder what My Daughter's doin right now? Damn, rent's due! The car needs a heater core. The car needs an alignment bad. The car needs front and rear brakes. I need some money for gas. Do I have enough money for the week to get me back and forth from work until I get paid? Do I have any money in the bank? I wish I could afford another pack of smokes. Gottah send this weeks child support...."

It was during the fifth action, although it's a bad fuckin habit tah think (let me tell yah), that clarity began. Because along with those thoughts of imminent insolvency bombardin my thought processes, that one lil whisper, of the various thoughts racin, stayed a constant, "But you can't do a damn thang about it Meredith. You gottah just keep pushin the fuck on." And that whisper got more and more pronounced, now speaking loudly from the fore. And with the exhaling of the final drag I was workin on, the words eased out of my mouth, "Fuck it!"

The Kiss (Twenty-Three Years Old Male's Letter Experiencing The First Kiss From Female Tribe Member of The Same Age) 1985

It always starts with a kiss. A feeling unexplainable. A breeze coming from the most unexpected time to waft in ones face when it is the hottest and most uncomfortable time of year. One smiles and appreciates the lull, the reprieve if not for a second, a little while. Never sexual in nature but one of euphoric love and splendor for the love one that kissed one so lovingly, assuredly. It was as if it was in slow motion as I watched her face coming into my direction and finally her lips met mine and the heavens opened up. True bliss finally coming to visit me and engulf me, I don’t know how long the kiss lasted but for me it will always last until eternity, until I am on my deathbed, the smile will always form on my face thinking of her kiss. Her lips so succulent, tasty, full, pink and so juicy, like savoring an excellent peach, strawberry or any kind of fruit ripened to perfection, at the height of its age. Then I opened my eyes and she peered through me, perusing my soul and I saw the knowing smile that she was pleased with what she had witnessed peering into my being. And she kissed me again and I melted away onto another planet of existence. Nothing mattered, only her kiss and her presence. A wonderful drug of emotion that I was instantly addicted to. I didn’t want her lips to leave mine, her sweet breath and soft lips, parting my lips softly with her tongue and exploring as did mine.

It's Only A Matter Of Time (Twenty-Nine Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 1994

The world is fucked up! That ain't no kinda epiphany tah yah. And I sho in the fuck don't have tah say it twice fo yo Broke sorry asses tah understand. Yao Ming?

Knee deep in this shithole! And the shit is constantly risin. Pretty soon gonnah have tah tilt yo head back so yo fuckin nose won't be inhalin the shit directly intah yo lungs. Ears cloggin the fuck up with shit. But all yah doin then is buyin yo self a lil mo time until the inevitable happens...cause the shit's perpetually risin and yah have tah breath!

Eventually we all choke aftah inhalin, physically, the raw sewage into our lungs. Those same lungs fillin up with the shit. Then yo sorry ass can honestly gurgle, "I'm actually drownin in this shit!" With yo last, sorry ass, fetid breath!

Peace! More to come...

Foreigner In A Foreign Land Talkin Shit, Ain't Too Smart At All (Twenty-Nine Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 1994

AHHHH...a muh fuckah just gotstah breath goddamnit! Gotstah! Fuck you want me tah tell yo sorry ass? If yah ain't breathin, then cyanosis sets in...and adios muchachos! The fuck I'm doin? Writin Spanish? The fuck?! I have a Brothah that suggested to me, about my Daughter, "You need to start teaching her Spanish." Shiiit nig-gah! Name me one spanish speaking country that's doin the damn thang? I'm waitin...That's what I thought! Shit, be better off teaching her Chinese or Japanese some shit! Cause speakin Spanish ain't gonna get her any place, in Her future life, but bein possibly knocked up by somebody broke who speaks Spanish! The fuck I look like muh fuckah? People say shit that don't make two good fucks of sense tah my sorry broke Black ass!

Yo sorry ass talks tah muh fuckahs from different countries and shit. The first thing they start spittin is, how they love their country and how great their country is. Well, shit! My question, with yo no count hypocritical sorry ass is, "The fuck yo ass doin the fuck here mothah fuckah?" Talkin shit! I'm twenty-nine fuckin years old goddamnit! And I ain't, not one time in my Black ass 29 year life, had to bust ah move to anothah country, outside of this U-S-of-fuckin-A, tryin tah make a livin! Not once! But yo sorry no count foreign ass talkin bout how great yo, missin in action ass, country is and yo ass is whah, nineteen or whatevahthefuck age yo sorry ass is? The fuck you think you talkin to nig-gah? Shut the fuck up with that noise! For real! The proof is in the mothah-fuckin-puddin, you foreign quasi-elitist asshole!

And the query still the fuck stands, "If your country is so great, what the fuck yo Black, brown, white, Asian...whatevahthefuck, ass doin-the-fuck-here?!" The fuck! Muh fuckah! Talk tah me like I'm crazy! Puh-leeze!

And it is still...A Beautiful thang, My Dear Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs! Oh, yes it is! Peace! More to come...

Humans 'Til The End (Thirty- Four Years Old, Broke Black Prophet, Pre-Salvation) 1999

Sit and spit while the cigarette is lit, burning out without being enjoyed, annoyed by its ignored thinkers; its indulgers who have not taken a drag to lag from the memory of the mammary of birth. Purse the lips to take sips from the hips and the nipple with the ripple of the sands of time. Slime building up from the E cup causing all to hiccup because of its rare cares. Swears coming from the multitude from the minority getting the majority of the nourishment meant for all, a small infinitesimal of the call to the living. Giving misgivings at an enormous rate. Relate to the state of the past. Last for a few milliseconds. Confesses to Sampson’s transgressions. Lessons never learned from the preoccupation of self. Wealth an acme to the state of the union and communion. Pray to stay and lay for another good night’s sleep and weep about the situation of these days. Pays a huge dividend for the shit to come to a halting end, for sin never to conquer, never to win.

Seeing Is Believing? (Loquacious , Thirty-Two Year Old, Male, Tribe Person) 1976

I often think of these people I understand as the human species: them, we, us, I. I often get a little embarrassed. Thinking about how one has the right to procreate or not. People put more time in wondering what to eat or when to get up than about considering having a child; to bring another human being into this world. The human race. Thinking we are the only species that can reason. Maybe the other animals: dogs, cats, and horses...Maybe they think they are the only species that can reason. Having a language all their own. Communicating on an entirely different level than what we can put into subjective thought. Having a mindset of the millions of Africans in their own land succumbing to slavery. Maybe a long time ago their species came to the realization not to fight against humans or any other animals that enslaves them. And we not understanding the reasoning of said animals. It is said by the scientists that the world has been here some billions and millions of years. Maybe it has. Maybe every animal on this earth at one time or another thought they were the only ones that reasons and given that reasoning one must understand another species will eventually take over what we call earth and become the only animals to perceive to be reasoning. I think one is not empathetic enough when one is an elitist and think we are on the top of the food chain.

The human species. The most laughable species on this entire earth. Thinking we have control over the other animals and elements of this environment. Understanding this world is finite and we only are fooling ourselves thinking we are rulers of this habitat. Thinking about how we are made up. I have to wonder if what the scientists call microorganisms or bacteria are rulers of this earth if one really wants to muse over the existentialistic side of life. Give into this life and world and I think we would come up with a whole new perspective of this life. One has to look at humility. Understanding one has their limits or life span one must look at the unanswered question, “Why are we here?” That trite ,undeniable, fuckin’ get on your nerves question. The question still remains the same. But, I digress, maybe it hasn’t. Maybe each and every one us have the ability to answer that question but for fear of boredom decide not to do just that. To remain silent until the final response must be asked than answered as in death. You see we must all answer that question at one point in life or in death, finally succumbing to that inescapable query. One we should have answered long ago, yet, now we must answer.

Alas, maybe that is even wrong. Maybe what we do is keep denying until the end of time, as we know it. But maybe that is kind of a play on words. A somewhat confusing statement given the fact, do we really know there is an end of time? Maybe time is relative given the individual who is looking at time. Maybe time is ongoing yet, we just keep putting limitations on this element of truth. Trying like hell a long time ago to keep on denying the question or avoiding it all together. That’s why maybe people die so young and maybe that is why people die a tragic and painful death. Maybe they realized in a certain span of time, maybe too soon, what this life is really about and with the knowledge at hand is a demonstration to all what happens to one and all who attain this knowledge.

Let’s stop right there. Lets digress just a little and maybe think to ourselves on why this little bit is able to transpire. All of this is able to take place because o f peoples selfishness. Trying to play and accomplishing the feat of creation by some symbiotic dance we call coital activity. Not being able to pull it off ourselves with some divine gift to waive perspective hand and “Poof!” Another human is born. No we have not that power. But given all that we know, (given the fact I know anything ) what one must confront given the fact of our subjective mind, which gives all of us subjective truths. But you see that is even up to argument because maybe I don’t even understand the truth, that is the truth of popular belief. Given the fact I see the truth subjectively. Maybe the truth is not subjective at all but objective. Just one-dimensional not being able to be discussed or discoursed over. Because you can plainly see if I did not see it as the latter I can not with great certainty say I am really a person or human being or I am even typing these words which I imagine someone will some day, and say, “Yes, these are words. And these are sentences. And yes, these are paragraphs. And yes, by cracky, this is an essay about reality. Or so it was perceived or not perceived by one man.” Screwy is it not?

You see reality is a cacophony of confusing ideologies and thoughts. Meshing together to make truths or in this matter perceived truths. Maybe , reality is something I imagine all the time. Making up objects, new people, places on a day to day basis. Making my intangible world tangible by shear thought or subconsciously. But if one gives into that reasoning, it would give a person pause because if that is all we are, shear thought, life as we know it ceases, and what is next? Ah, now there is a query I don’t hear too often; What’s next? To pose that question to oneself brings about thinking of the hereafter and what is next. Now we get into another question that goes along with the aforementioned query, Why are we here? So after one asks that to oneself over and over maybe in this instance they ask themselves the wrong question. Maybe the question is wrong all together. We know or at least on some conscious level we are here, given the fact you see this truth to be correct , and if we know that then why has one over and over ask “Why are we here?” We are here, so the real question that should be posed is, “What’s next?” That is the correct question to ask. The only question if one poses in an existentialist way.

What’s next? Ah do you see what power that question has. The feeling you get just by saying or posing that question even to oneself. Why are we here?, is a trite overworked dumb ass question to ask about our existence. We are here! We understand or know we are here. Or at least on the same plane metaphysically or you could not read all of this and you would not be the audience I was writing to nor would you be my truth or my reality. What next? Or maybe that is all wrong too. Because maybe after reading all that I have written about the truth we you would have to see my point , statements of truth, as being the truth, given the fact you are true to me and the fact you all are real. Confusing once one starts getting to the crust of the matter. You see we are limited in our world of truths once the boundaries of said truths have been implemented; ergo, limitations on not only what we can physically and mentally do. Lets look at that for a minute though, shall we? Take for instance maybe all of this is transpiring in our minds and we are not really doing the things that we are doing or that we do in this life we just are reaching out mentally in the universe and zappo-reenio, we create reality. People say, “Well , if I stab or shoot your ass. You will know what the truth really is!” Will I? Sure I guess on the level which we are conditioned to since birth. Sure, I have been conditioned to think or believe, if one shoots or stabs me imminent peril is cast upon my physical body and death is put into the equation. That is the mindset of us all because of the mere tunneled vision scope of the human being, “the biped.” This goes along with the earlier statement of man, as we know, is a hopeless elitist. Never thinking in another realm but on the same conscious level like their other relatives.

We are all just byproducts of some nasty genetic creation. Looking at ourselves critically, we are an ugly species, strike that, animal. Really look at the human shape and form and realize the deficiencies of the human body. Our ears, our noses, our mouths, our genitalia...One could go on and on about the human animals anatomy. Once you sit down and dissect it, one should notice how utterly ugly our bodies really are. And maybe one will start to think the other animals that share this earth with us are laughing everyday on some level about how fucked up anatomically we appear. We sit in the scorners seat and berate every animal we perceive to be ugly but we hardly ever look at ourselves and criticize ourselves about how ill shaped and ill built our bodies were made. Oh, but lets look at that too. You see to take that position is to speak about the higher power, the supreme being, the holier than holy, the boss of bosses...Allah, God...We cannot fault the human body because it was, “...created in his own image.” So as you can see given that to be the truth one would have to look at the fact God is this androgynous, amalgamate of an entity equipped with penis, testicles, breasts, derriere...on and on it goes. A mishmash of the human animal. A bisexuals dream date. Oh, don’t get all in a huff about the latter statement. Remember we are talking about truths or perceived truths. Also when it comes down to it we are speaking about opinions since perceived truths are just that, opinions. So what is fact? That is an excellent question also. We are all correct and incorrect. Right and wrong. Fucked up and not fucked up. We are the epitome of the word confusion in the flesh or in this instance, animal....


.....TO BE CONTINUED

Death Begets Life (Blog Author, Tribe Member, Quasi Satirist) August, 2020

Chasing shadows, after the dark clouds have passed. The thunderstorm that seemed to depressingly last while I tried to enjoy the meadows, through the deep dark overcast. The sun is finally breaking through, uplifting my spirits just a little. But my brittle broken soul almost shattered like fine glass, is now healing, but the feeling of loss is still the minor boss. And will always be; while I try to keep keeping on. Won’t be no fun. But life oft times has ended for one; and for another…has just begun.

A Lead State (Out of Work, Male, Ex- Million Dollar Club Real Estate Agent) 2010

Don’t stop me from seeing this life full of Beauty; society living a lie as the populous sighs; ties that bind; find the light which shines from behind haloing such an angelic culture. Black melds into the backdrop as my heart stops from the torture. Color infused and confused, a convoluted mess undressed. Confesses to the transgressed; blessed the elite to complete the round robin robbin and sobbin. Money always funny as the light shines with ill perceived ocular sunny rays; days filled with depression; confession of a failed humanity plainly seen. Dope fiends fleeing from the red light flashing erratically throughout the night. Light a fag and sag into the rags of existence; persistence to live out of habit only to give another day of preciousness. Why waste my time? I’m frustrated and don’t want to commit a crime. The clip holds sixteen rounds; I only need one… to witness the angelic sounds.

A Black Eye (Black History Major, Female University Student) 1993

Founded being grounded; amid a race disgraced. Trained ignorance which was planned to cause our circumstance. Living in Diaspora sans the flora, disconnected from our great tribe circumscribes to a lifelong failure. Unsure of the people we used to be in our long productive and prideful history.
A sad story.
A sad commentary.
Quite pitiful to our Black Ancestry.

Idle Time? Now Y'alls Stupid Asses Got Pro'lems! (Black American, Male, Stand-Up Comedian) 2011

These muh fuckahs just always thinkin they can get away with lyin. Rich men and men in general for thousands of years and more thinkin somehow, some way they have found the ultimate lie or con. Like Bania used to avow on Seinfeld, "Gold, Jerry! It's gold I tell yah!" Fools gold! Yao Ming?

Rich mothah fuckahs and this here Federal-fuckin-gov'ment been lyin their asses off and thinkin we are some stupid sorry ass bastards. What the fuck! What's a muh fuckah supposed to do when companies are tellin people by the thousands, "We're sorry, we have to let you go." And they escort your ass off the company's property, waive goodbye, "Peace My Brothah!"

And this economy is gettin better? The fuck I look like? Boo-boo-the-foo'? Shiit, they need tah quit that noise!

They thinkin we are so stupid that we are not goin, on those now off hours since yo sorry ass is unemployed, to start seein what's goin on? Shiiit, a muh fuckah gottah lottah time now to watch the news, surf the Net and talk to the other numerous unemployed folk.

Now, here's the quandary with y'alls rich and rich/political dumbasses, those same muh fuckahs yo silly asses done put into the unemployment line start gettin more armed with understandin, witnessin what the fuck has been really goin on, becomin aware of the bullshit they been missin while workin their asses off so many wasted years, you dumb sons of bad cocks!

Don't they understand that? Mothah fuckahs sittin up here with Ivy League educations and shit, and don't have any common sense whatsoevah! Tryin that juvenile psychology bullshit, "Since you did this before for free and now you want to make a living demanding pay, we will no longer provide you work." You super-silly-arrogant-sorry-inhumane-mothah-fuckahs, You! How they think so many mothah fuckahs have all this time for that, Wallstreet protests shit that's goin on all across the country? Cause, y'alls asses conditioned a slave to work like a fuckin dog until they die. And whatahsurprise! They ain't dead yet; albeit, y'alls rich motha fuckin asses wish they were...then yo sorry asses gots the nerve tah take the work from'em! Just because I gotstah pay those ignant poor mothah fuckahs now and I used tah not have to pay those sorry poor animals shit! The fuck?!

The more a slave works,albeit yo greedy ass gotstah pay'em a lil som'ehn-som'ehn now, the less idle time they have to finally read, research...find out what's been goin on the last fifteen years they've been workin sixteen hours, goin home, sleepin seven hours and it's back to the grind!

Nah! Keep the muh fuckahs workin! Then your lies stay true because who gives a fuck as long as a muh fuckah is gettin paid, stayin solvent! Don't lay muh fuckahs off or start downsizin... give incentives to companies that work the shit out of their employees. Then muh fuckahs don't have time to be informed about the lies you tellin. Doin shit half ass backwards. Just fuckin dumb!

These elite, entitled, lazy pieces of shit didn't learn shit from their ancestors, those damn worthless, shiftless, greedy, inhumane slave owners.

You work the shit out of a slave. Work a broke, poor mothah fuckah for 16-23 hours straight, on a regulah, and I guaran-fuckin-tee that muh fuckah ain't gonna think about escapin or gettin edumacated...as long as yo silly ass breaks'em off a lil som'ehn-som-ehn! Yous ain't gonnah have nos problems from d'em! Hell-to-the-nah! All that muh fuckah is gonna be thinkin 'bout, aftah all those hours of slavin, is gettin some fuckin rest and gettin some fuckin sleep. And yous have no pro'lems at-all! Believe dat son! Yah heard may?!

Synthetic Bonding (Twenty-Three Year Old Male's Poem of Devotion to Female Tribe Member of The Same Age, Now Courting) 1984

Baby calm down, turn around and allow yourself to hear the sounds and words I avow. Gonna be sunshine before too long. I promise. You promise? He promised! Just hold on strong. No need for the bong, our past Siren’s song. Life is real. We must deal without the induced altered state. Let clear conscious decisions be our destiny, not fate. We’ll be fine throughout the night and the light will shower on us like the finest wine. We’ll take communion and drink of his blood which he shed for our chance to live our lives together. Inclement weather notwithstanding, sometimes handing us a storm; so we may warm ourselves; unite, to make our relationship stronger. Holding hands and fighting the good fight, conquering this life. The longer we hold on to one another the more the bond will adhere. Eventually being seamless, as one; with nothing or anyone to fear.

(HMNS) Devalued Human Commodity (Sensient Stock Broker) 2015

It’s something to say to be living today. I don’t pray to stay. Let nature take its course, like with any marriage there is always discourse then divorce. Mine was a shotgun wedding, being thrown into this life without a choice. Final sale as I inhaled my first breath. No returns once it is taken out of the store. Caring of the purchase is optional, people have never cared about the fine print, “To Care For,” label. Because it all depends on how much time one has to take care of the item. Products are not made like they used to be manufactured; once finished with the completed product, it was taken through various tests for quality assurance, once passed, then and only then shall product be able to be out into the open market. But times have changed. For the good? It’s all about the perception of the one which has witnessed the declination of quality of product of note. The stock market price for Humans(HMNS) is at its all time low. And that’s what it has gotten down to, the question that has always been out on the open floor: To buy or to sell?

Eden Deferred (Female Horticulturalist) 1951

In the Garden of Eden everyone’s bleeding. Plucking, de-seeding this earth. The birth of a child sends a mild and dolorous cheer. Seers of another disfigured plant. Peers into the future not worthy of the beauty that has just been harvested, a wasted youth prophesied by the truth; an adult life full of strife; but there’s always hope with fertilizer dope. Smoke from the volcanoes to light up another high. Spy the genes turning obscene. Instill the will. Give society a deity. Just one life; not two… What a pity.

The Human Plant (Female Horticulturalist) 1952

Take the walls off the water; let the earth sink into the seas. The core copying what it did way before our Adam and Eve. Conceive another birth to this Earth; making the human more human; a scientific experiment which will each time fail. Inhale the wondrous smells… But the earth never stops creating its children to love and to nurture; so those same children will take care of their true parent of their Beautiful, walking and talking annuals. Manuals being left to steal the breath, to help them defend themselves, to survive the oft times torrent climate atop its heavenly body, its heavenly being. Hoping one day, the ones they have so much hope for and to never having to harvest again, will survive forever.

The Welfare Government...And Rich (Political Satirist) 2010

They say fools never change but they are the ones that rearrange. It’s a shame how they are in control; quite disturbing; quite strange. We pay them their government welfare check to chat on the happenings amid this new world order. Like the ghettos who they throw garbage at because of their trivial government allotment, not working for their money of need. So doth thy political administration; sitting back talking and talking about nothing and getting paid for non-productive work. The employers which employ us call that cause for termination, “Egregious misuse of company time!” They cause chaos and disorder, like the ghettos with their people causing violence because they are being non-productive; but its okay while they have to justify their civil servant elected position. Firing fingers at misdemeanors! Hypocritical transgressors. Never has peace come to the many countries of their given regions or nations. Who’s really on welfare? Situations tumbling out of control as the bombs scare; we stare at the violence whence the outcome of the fools’ job security. Happily we live as this earth comes to its end right in front of our eyes; giving out checks to elect the suspects, subsequent murderers of dialects. Our souls conditioned for apathy to no surprise; lies have become truth; truth turned into lies.

Help, Is A Four Letter Word (Troubled Female Tribe Person) 2013

I am so cofused Oh Lord.

Help me get centered in these decentered times.

Help me breath when I feel I have no breath.

Help me see joy when there is none to be seen with my weary human eyes.

Help me have hope in this hopeless state that we are in.

Help me keep, keeping on though I would rather lie down and sleep...forever.

Help...Me!

So I can Help...US.

Amen!

Treadmill (Enlightened Tribe Person) 2013

Don't take the trip that's hip. Slip into a coma to slow all the ills that perceivedly thrills. Pills being a mainstay as our sanctimonious self prays. But there will never be a requirement under this Heaven, this fine firmament, to fine tune this sickly state of being. Spent a lifetime looking for answers, and there are none to be seen after good prayers are sent. Lent another folly to jolly, a jocularity of clarity. Making one think there is a God over Us. Cuss the trust as we fall from high. Sigh until you are tired, not spry...anymore. Folk lore is just that, something to give the manics many panics to start taking Zanex. Pre emps the sorry commercial that pre-paid to lay another food for so-called thought. Bought the status non-gratis. But we are still here as we labor under Our God's Sun! Smile my Brethren child! We still have time to run...if not but a little while.

Backseat Mothah Fuckin Drivers! (Black American, Male, Stand-Up Comedian) 2001

Mothah fuckahs wants tah sit in the fuckin passenger seat complainin bout cho muh fuckin drivin! Shiiiit! Okee-the-fuck-dokee-smokey! So, you pull yo Black ass ovah. Fuck this shit! For real! Say to them,"Take the fuck ovah cause a niggah's tired!" They scramble out of the car, can't wait tah take the fuckin control, the wheel. Go head with you bad ass! Go the fuck ohn! You sit whence they once were. Get all comfy and cozy. Close your eyes. Fuck it! I need some fuckin rest!

Then, what do they have the nerve tah do? Callin yo name. Shakin yo tired ass every fuckin minute or so sayin, "Which way should we go?" Naw, mothah fuckah! Hell naw! Not, "We"! Fuck that! You! Whatevah way yo ass wantstah take is fine by me! A niggah tryin tah cop some Zs. For real!

Then, they start cussin you out and shit. Whatevah muh fuckah! Drive! Drive, with yo sorry backseat drivin ass! I don't give ah real bad fuck!

Aftah awhile they get tired of drivin, bein lost. Wake yo tired ass up! And state, "You drive! I'm tired of this shit!" Get some You! Right on! And get the fuck ovah in that passenger seat where you should have stayed before! And please shut the fuck up from now on, cause I ain't scared tah give this mothah fuckah back to yo sorry ass!

I may be tired, mothah fuckah, that's for damn sure! But I'll get US where we need tah be! Without all that fuckin complainin! Cause, I ain't scared and I'm used tah bein tired! Yah heard may?

Watching The Wheels (Blog Author, Tribe Person, Quasi-Satirist) 2008

Most people read the Bible for comfort. I read the shit for entertainment and folly. Insults my intelligence so. Unbelievable! The fuck I look like? Oh, blasphemy Meredith! You will burn in the intense fires of hell! Okay, and tell me pre-tell where your ass gonna be? Coolin your heels in Heaven? Puh-leeze! So called Christians fartin with their mouths, or asses, whatevah is clevah, they are both the same because they speak from both equally. Blowing that malordorous wind wherever and whenever they please. Funkin the place up! And fuckin this place up! Are you crazy Meredith? The fuck's wrong with you bo-ay? Not'in! Absolutely, positively, not'in! If muh fuckahs believed what I've been readin tonight the human existence would be heaven on earth. Shiiit! We wouldn't have to wait to be judged! Kiss my ass! Burn every one of those pages in that piece of shit! And if all of what I write is wrong...than get your ass out there and work! Spread not only the word, but the damn joy! That's all I'm sayin. And that...is a Beautiful thang! Oh, yes it is!

What does anything mean? Your name? Your words? Your moral character? Your existence? I was just reading the Bible and I smiled and laughed so hard I almost cried. I remember Brother Rice, a member of Christ Temple like Mommy was so long ago stated, “You know you have to smile and laugh at this stuff to keep yourself from crying all the time.” And he was serious as cancer. I don’t think he died from cancer but I know the man was a good man and he died of something, like all good and bad people do. Yo ass dies of something. Sho you right. You best believe that shit! No ifs, ands or buts about it. You will die! But when? That there is the million dollar question. People always talking, sayin shit like, they would like to know. Would you really muh fuckah? What be you then? How would your life change so drastically if one knew their given due date, their appointment with destiny? I mean yo ass knows now that you probably won’t live more than at the high end, ninety years and I don’t see muh fuckahs out here in droves doin things any differently than what they are doin to this very day. With the understanding they have no more than ninety years to do the damn thang! Whatever that damn thang is. Yao Ming.

You see it really doesn’t matter because it is all bullshit. Even if we knew, because we know now, shit yo ass is mortal not immortal, so things wouldn’t change in our lives. We would just fade away like we surely do every second of every passing day. Ain’t nothing gonna change. Ever. Cause we don’t want it to. Less...

People love habits. They absolutely hate change even if it is for the betterment of not only their existence but for the generations to come. Why? You may be asking yourself about these little words forming on your computer screen. Because change is nothing but work and oft times than not, change takes a lifetime and a muh fuckah don’t want to be working for the rest of their lives. Shiiit! While yah playin. Ain’t no fun in workin. Fuck the future! The future is now damnit! Let those other bastards do it, while I suck on my Cubans, and ride in my Bentley; buy more shit than my ass could possibly need or want. Vex about kickin another muh fuckahs ass. Talk about bullshit every fuckin day that is counterproductive… Now that’s fun!

People want to talk about makin money. Shiiit makin money is easy if that’s all this life is about. Shit you can sale your ass for money. Up close and personal muh fuckah and you don’t even have to step outside the door. But I don’t see everybody doing it. So it is more than just makin money. Our existence is elusive; the query so profound, “Why am I here?” And the answer is slap dead in your sorry ass face you elitist muh fuckahs! You see, yo sorry ass been askin the wrong fuckin question goddamn it! The question isn't, "Why am I here?", but "Why are We here?" Plural not singular. Ain't shit gonnah get done with just one muh fuckah doin the damn work. I am not One but I am made up of many!

We are here to aide one another, to love one another, to look out for one another, to make sure every one of our Brothahs and Sistahs are taken care of, to have just as much as the other, no more and no less. Even to the detriment to our own lives. And if you don’t believe that! Well…as I stated earlier, ain’t nothing gonna change! Ever! And that…ain’t no Beautiful thang! Yah heard may!

So keep smiling and laughing! Avoidance is a muh fuckah! But don't forget to wipe your ass with Hope! And please don't forget to flush! For real!