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I miss home

I miss the lingo

the language the slang

the pace

the no scene attitude

the way we ring a gyal ears with lyrics

just to mamaguy

I miss Mayvis Friday morning gossip

telling EVRYBODY!!!!!!!!!!!

that neighbor pregnant

and would not even mention

that she common law kinda funny

I miss prakash on the lil stationary bike and he faithful 3 canal

even when it is dry season

I miss reading the storyline

when Gramoxone relly use to drink good

I miss meh Silver Fox and the rising sun

the Jackass who killing the Movement

and the promise off new projects that start and never finish.

ah miss when rain set it up to fall

principal leh everybody living in south go.

I miss hearing politicians promise to fix the road in LaBrea

I miss everything about you, yet nothing.

I hold on to these quixotic memories of you

like a beat up, abused common law who swear dat dat is RELL Love

I love the idea that I play a part in fixing you.

I Miss coming together with you to achieve

more than what you set yourself for.

I miss the listening to the song

I..... PLEDGE !!!!!!!!!
TO SERVE MY COUNTRY
TOBAGO AND TRINIDAD
I PLEDGE
NOW THAT SHE NEEDS ME
I WILL WORK HARD

then guilty when I hear

SEE THEM RUNNING AWAY
TO THEM FOREIGN COUNTRY
NO WAY!!!!!!!!
NO WAY
NO WAY HOSAY

you are my first love
and my first heart breat
you are mother
you are child
you are my past
that's indelibly linked to my future.
you are my love
and more than my obligation

we become numb to the man's horrors
we become oblivious to the our self inflicted scars
genocide, the racism, sexism, religious relativism,
crimes against humanity, do we really see our society relative
to others?
telling each other daily my life is worth more than yours
while smiling in each other's face
deception......the name of the game
that has been become the cliche these days
in the era of hope and change...
as if this change. reflects a new image that tells that we just
as hideous as the one who killed ,
the one who planned to assassin
as the one who picked up a mop stick
to strike life out of her own child
how diff. are we that they manifest
what we sometimes try to suppress but
simply regress.
is it our nature
to want peace yet we consume
to the point where we force our
government's hand to
feed us
in ways that we that we have yet
to come to terms with
Liberals seek peace and fair trade
destroying small markets as the ones
where I came from
destroying democracies catalyzing
atrocities as Rwanda, COngo, and El Salvador
did you really think Rwanda was about ethnicity?
cite de soliele lay on the treshold american hegemony
and now the we complain about this ideological disease
that has returned with different strains and different symptoms
but the same pain.

Sit down and think for a minute of how we came to be
Right here, right now,
From prisoners of intercine wars, and descendents of enslaved Africans
Across the main land to the sea shore, chained and shackled,
Whipped and raped, spat on, forbidden to read, taken away from your GOD,
Your culture, your language, your past, taken away from your identity
Placed on auction blocks as sons lost their mothers, daughter lost their fathers
Husbands lost their wives, families never the same

Think again for a brief moment,
When the first letters of self determination was written,
When acts of self determination, tattooed in our psyche
As many of our ancestors turned to the North Star
As many of our ancestors became maroons, formed
Their own societies, their own communities,
Like the first Free African Society, and Black Churches
Was organized and blacks began advocating for freedom, for equality.

Think of the times when non-violence served its purpose,
As thousands lay their bodies on the line with sound mind
Body and soul knowing that they shall not be moved.
Think about the times when fist punched the sky
And afros, the barrel of a gun, and we all read FRANTZ FANON
Where Black was Comely, where BLAKCNESS was reclaimed

Think about this journey to the where we arrive in the present
Where we have arrived at the possibility of a Black President.
After being kidnapped, and whipped and raped, and dragged across an ocean
Where we weren’t allowed to read, write, pray, or possess our own bodies.
Here we stand on the threshold of an AUDACITY
Here we stand on the doorsteps of toppling notions white supremacy
Here we stand on the doorsteps of having an honest discourse on race
And may be on slavery
And may be on the colonialism, colorism, and sexism,
Or maybe it would be an excuse to forget about the past that rendered
Us drones and zombies,
Just BLACK BODIES stacked up in football stadiums
hacked up in Rwanda, and bombed Tulsa Oklahoma
massacred in Sudan and neglected in Haiti,
where are we, who are we,
as we assess this progress in our illusionary realities
hoping for a change
hoping that may be we can forget we lived for 500 years
hoping that we have finally dried our eyes and there isn’t any tears.

 

This was a smack in the face to every single Black and Latino man who have been pulled over, rubbed down and searched and perceived as a criminal before an intellect. This was a smack in face to every brother who was emasculated. Yes the system has failed us. But this has not even begun to scratch the surface on which we see the judicial and political landscape in New York City. Would protesting and making nose do anything?.....NO.
Where does that leave us. the president has been set......................we have lost Diallo, Louima, and for the divisive people of color who believe in being separate and apart and distinct. Guess what? Diallo was a continental African, Louima was a West Indian and Sean Bell being of African American heritage. What they all had in common was they were Black and they were males; a nearing extinct phenotype. For the most part we have yet to hold these so called institutions and power structures in New York City accountable for their actions. We continue to prostitute our votes like a cheap harem and we wonder how this Judge is elected?
But............................ what happen to the Police officers that sodomized Louima? And the ones that did the same to Diallo?
With regards to Louima Charles Schwarz was convicted on June 27, 2000 for helping Volpe assault Louima in the bathroom and was sentenced to 15 years in prison. At the time of his conviction, there were numerous questions raised about whether he could receive a fair trial in the highly charged atmosphere. Volpe identified Thomas Wiese, not Schwarz, as the second man in a recorded interview on news show 60 Minutes, a fact not brought up in the trial. The sentence was overturned by 2nd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals on a technicality. However, in 2002 he pled guilty to a perjury charge for testifying that he did not lead Louima to the bathroom, and was sentenced to 5 years in prison. His request for leniency was rejected on March 30, 2006. He was released to a halfway house in February 2007 and plans to move to the northern United States to work as a carpenter.
Three other NYPD officers, Thomas Bruder, Michael Bellomo and Thomas Wiese were indicted for their involvement in trying to cover up the assault. On March 9, 2000, Thomas Weise and Thomas Bruder along with Charles Schwarz were convicted on the charge of conspiracy to obstruct a federal investigation into the assault on Louima, but their conviction was reversed by a federal appeals court in February 2002 on the grounds of insufficient evidence. Michael Bellomo was found not guilty of trying to cover up the beating of Louima and that of another Haitian immigrant by Volpe earlier that evening
In diallo’s case Charges against the protesters were later dropped. In 2001 the Justice Department announced that it would not charge the officers with having violated Diallo's civil rights.
And this leaves us to Sean Bell.
And we all know what has happened.
………………..the question is what are we going to do?

it's the kinda of tune you'll want

to sway and let the rhythm rock yuh steady

even though it's just you and me in each other's arms

and the party done already.

it's the kinda vibe that make yuh pores raise

like when yuh hear the baptist and them sing

the same vibe I get when i begin to discover yuh whole being

yuh see love and affection spreads like a rash in summer

and more overwhelming and powerful than when man first discovered fire.

and yuh see this vibe and this tune

that resonates right on meh chest, the same place

where I thought it would be forever be vacant,

the same place where the bruises were still too raw

begin to heal because the way I'm falling for you is so surreal

so out of this world because we haven't had our first kiss

yet your lips caressed mines so many times in conversations

that changed meh perception

on what means to meet a woman

what it means to truly desire someone

without the thoughts not being too obscene

yet still enough room for our sensuality to fall in between

enough time to have you as my empress in my dreams

What would it take to get you in bed
what are these countless thoughts
that I wish I can unravel in your head
What are your weaknesses,
I wanna Know
I wanna Know your touch, your taste
I wanna know these things so I can hear
the sounds of our lovemaking when we join at the waist
I want to be inside of you, loving you, holding you
Holding you at an undivided attention
making passionate love in our conversation
giving you mind orgasms
Can you Imagine?
Just picture this for a moment
just a moment I ask
I just wanna show you, making love to a Nubian woman
should never be a task.
But simply divine pleasure, erupting as our cup runneth over
Damn, I'm Just caught in these words waiting to transformed into actions
sitting here in waiting for a reaction
UNTIL THEN ............................JUST Imagine.

someone after my heart

I am overjoyed that I've met you

and thus far you've made my day

my hour

my minute

and every second that runs off the clock that becomes the past

I look forward in every way that you'll be my future.

my carbon copy, my mirror

because i see you in me and it really warms my heart

and when I hear your voice it feels like woah

what an amazing soul.

time and place
are the elements to which
my heart races when your hands
run through my shaved head
as our tonges become intertwined in
involuntary muscle contractions,
thoughts become verbs, fantasies become actions
......you see, I've never been verbally intellectually
kissed in a conversation.
never had the pores on my skin
stand to attention
never thought verbal intercourse
could feel like this
such as your first kiss
such the taste of rum raisin
on a sunday afternoon
where the mood is right
and "I wanna love Yah" is our tune
as afternoons greets the night
our conversations become
manifestations of actions that
can no longer contain our beast within
so we hold each other in our arms
hoping that this lust is driven by
stimulating conversing of kindred
souls, that sees king through her eyes
and queen through his.
we can only wait till the after math.