A few poems for Pops on a Friday

Me and Pops at the Nairobi Reunion 2000

Five shots

I made sure I was fully loaded

Before I left to go and see him

The first time in a long while

I loaded all five shots carefully and left

When I saw him

I shot fast and all five shots

Caught him

Center mass

Knocked his ass right over

One in the head

Two in the heart

Another in the lungs

One in the gut

All five shots caught him

Center mass

Knocked his ass right over

I Love You Daddy Always

1 2 3 4 5

Five shots

I am Hip Hop

My Dad is JAZZ

Blue, blazing saxophones in a smoke filled saturday nite. Heads nodding while the sweet musk of marijuana drifts amidst cries of "yeah" and "blow cat blow'hot and fiery nation music the muse of a woman's voice insinuating itself into ears and minds that know rivers and vast oceans of knowledge unwritten and unspoken.dissonant clashing rhythyms make, red black and green strokes in the air and blend together in an orgiastic celebration of Black life. The instruments call plaintively home to Africa, Cuba and distant Europe.

My Mom is SOUL

Some sweet sisters crooning lost loves,losing morebittersweet wine easing bitter livesnotes soar around rooms whispering 'sex' and 'seduction' betrayal and trustenchanting and romancing young lovers and old haters. Silky soulful mystical melodies making sticky elastic black magic recalling mother tongues, land long lost, grandma's hands and sweaty southern juke joints.

I am HIP HOP

Slipping and sliding,multiplying and dividing myself constantly redefining my definition. I'm cutting and scratching away at liesrevealing basic truthsasking whyhard beats drive me into lyrical, mystical frenziesheads bob and shoulders weavegiving kids a brief reprievefrom the concrete they meet outside the doorcrowds screaming for more and more the beat ebbs, where am i ? i'm not sure for a minute to elevate, translate and transcendeveryday, anyway distilled like a potion into pure physicality and emotion.

and she saw the God in him

New birth bloodshiny
brand new big head (bloody veiled) African boy
Brenda and Jack
had said “his name will be Malcolm”
and I am
the struggle took Jack
he wrestled with men, drugs, the system
but mostly himself
Brenda was his Angel, his lifeline, his life preserver, his beautiful Leo Firestorm.
Jack was her Man.
and young Brenda saw the God in him
took him and the pain in
took it in and made it lovely
them young and shiny

and black and beautiful
Dashiki black leather jacket Afro Mamas and Babas and Brothers and Sisters
Red Black and Green Flags
fists and baby raised in the air

we new Africans
torn apart though

by our own shit
and the bullets from the pigs
between our shit
pigs bullets
the motherfucking government
and white hate groups
aka the democrats and republicans
we got delayed somehow
forgot some shit
but now we back on point
see ferguson
see Bed Stuy
see Florida
see Oakland
see us
rise

Brenda
aint never seen a smile and a Afro
like my mama
famously brilliant
and beautiful
and completely fucking insane
ask the Dean of Students
how one little black lady
turned into 5 big black dudes
and beat the shit out of him
no words

ask a 12 year old
how his Mama wouldn’t take no shit
or lies
and he got choked the fuck out.
ask the lady who Brenda carried the machete for
behind and beneath the drivers seat in the B210
ask her

ask my Mama how she can take all that
beautiful brilliance out of her head and make the world obey
and fit her mold ?
ask my mama how she take starshine and moonlight and magic
and spin beauty
and beat that
and beat that

Brendah creates beautiful things out of the basics.
shit
love
envy
anger
bitter
life

My Mama hands….magic
simple and beautiful magic
but sometimes what she touches turns to shit
like me and her
can’t even talk
no one loves me like her
no one loves her like me

there is no one who has cut me deeper.
I bleed and love my mother for kissing the wound

her smile disarms me
her hugs heal me
all the time she is preparing to raise that knife.

john sidney

my Daddy
like Black Superman
John Henry hammering
imperfect and flawed
but perfect
my blueprint

my daddy taught me how
to fight
white folks
bullies
the power
pigs
and him.

and him
the same hands that held me
shook the shit out of me
knocked me on my ass

picked me up
and held me close
one hand holding me behind his legs
the other smiting

the same hands
that held me first
that hold me still

Crazy
just like him
look into the mirror, see his face superimposed over my own
same wrinkles
different scars

Angry and wounded
tearing through life
like some angry comet
but really just wanting to shine like the stars
and not burn out, crash to earth, tumble over and over, break into a million pieces

Just want to shine.