by Qwantu Amaru
the dead rising into heaven
the heavens rising into space
space rising into wholeness of thought
the truth
is not the beginning or ending
just bending with the wind
like feathers floating through out of body experiences
experience
is gained from floating and never knowing
where and when we’ll land next
on the truth
expect nothing
in order to gain everything
you’ve ever desired is only a breath away
stay aware of your surroundings
keep your heart pounding
and one day you will find
your truth
hateration
they wanna keep me from speaking to you
cuz if you knew me, then it would make it that much harder to hate me
the government created niggers of all colors, sizes and shapes see
to separate the masses and part the classes like the red sea
the fucked up part was that it was easy to confuse the issue
they just found some ignorant mu’fuckas with influence to say it’s true
if i just had rocket
for every time i heard some dumb shit
drip from the lips of some slander slangin neandrothal
i could blow up every television set in the country
but i’m nothing more than a jungle monkey in their eyes
still this monkey has more than a few tricks in his skin
let me take you on a trip so you can feel where i’ve been
and where our people our going
as the economy keeps slowing, resentment keeps growing
into a burning bush that’s out of control
chew on this
it’s ludicrous to see people still killin one another in race wars
because our time here is short and we’ve got so much to live for
i can’t afford to waste life in this way besides i don’t get paid enough
ain’t life already tough without wasting time and energy hating on the next man
don’t you claim to be a believer in the Bible, Quran, or Torah’s text man?
but it ain’t easy to remain peaceful
what with corrupt cops killing more and more defenseless people
it gets harder and harder to choose good over evil
but that’s exactly what we gotta do
it’s very easy to hate men because they slaughtered us like animals and never looked back
it’s very easy to hate men because they snuck crack and guns into the ghettos so we would kill ourselves
but we gotta put that baggage back on the shelves
and pick up a book and pen instead
because the only way to get ahead is to keep your head
the more we learn to create instead of destroy
we won’t fall into that ploy that’s had us trapped for the past four hundred years
and we can finally trade in those baseless fears for our future salvation
that’s how we squash the hateration
Start Snitchin
i shot these 3 kids
3 years ago
they gave me 33 years
i got
2 tears
tattooed under my eyelids
and the faces of my 2 kids
engraved on my neck
i don’t got no respect
for nothing but death
i don’t got no regrets
no expectations
except
to get out in 10
and get back to hustlin
for now these crackers got me foot to foot shuffling
shucking and jiving
they think i’m trying
but i’m surviving
grinding
out the seconds, minutes, and days
just waiting
for that parole board to say i’ve served my time
then it’s back to the block
to knock that snitchin bitch out the box
for opening her trap and getting me locked
she never should have talked
now she’s gonna get chalked
like pac, i’m one of the last one’s left
and i’m a be a killer until my last breath
the depth of my self-hatred knows no bounds
and everybody round my hood knows what’s good
something goes down
nobody says shit
nobody saw shit
nobody gets hit
cause if you get branded as a snitch
someday you gonna get fixed
mixed up in some serious mess
buried with the rest of the wanna be heroes
so called saviors of the community
she should know
ain’t no immunity in the ghetto
and ain’t nothing lower than ratting out your own
cuz next time it might be your own
son or daughter or uncle or brother
caught up in another crime scheme
trying to live the african-american dream
that too often seems to end up in screams
instead of laughter
but i’m a get the last laugh
cuz i know our shared past
has grafted us together for worse or for worse
forever cursed to feel each other’s pain
bear each other’s shame
and forget each other’s name
because we’re not to blame
we’re just trapped in the same game
we’re not to blame
so don’t blame me
for my lack of morality
look at the society that made millions of criminals just like me
the society that makes education hard but crime easy
honestly there is no room for honesty
just blind loyalty
can’t you see
i’m your your brother, your father, your lover, you’re baby
if you wanna truly save me
save yourself
i’m a lost cause
lost because
no one ever loved me enough
to let me go
to say no
to stand up
and do the right thing
please
please
please
start
snitching
don’t worry about ditching me
and don’t worry about reaching me
worry about teaching me
that crime does not pay
that the community does not play
that there might be another way
that tomorrow can be better than today
that it ain’t society’s fault i got caught
i
got
caught
and
it’s
no
one’s
fault
but
my
own
Part III:
The Life & Times
6 Scarlet letters
when i was in the 6th grade, 1 tuesday morning i awoke with aids. i must have come down with a case of it in my sleep but i didn’t know it. i got out of bed combed my head and brushed my teeth, totally oblivious to the white sores lying beneath my tongue like navy seals on a covert mission. my nightshirt must have camouflaged the leaking lesions on my chest, for the only sign that anything was out the ordinary was that i felt over stressed. i had an exam in 3rd period.
that was still in the days when mom drove me to school, before i joined the busloads of children, before every waking moment was spent trying to be cool. once there she reminded me every time i walked in public that i carried my family with me like the world’s most peculiar kangaroo. she kissed my prepubescent cheeks in the schoo
l’s driveway and drove away leaving me. to face the longest day of my young life. alone. before that day, everyone said that my future was as bright as a diamond in the desert. walking down the deserted hall. late for 1st period as usual. i didn’t think anything was unusual until i looked at my locker and came face to face with hatred for the 1st time. he sat there naked and screaming. like an abandoned child. plastered on the locker’s aluminum surface. making faces at me. someone had blatantly tried to provoke me. by inscribing 6 scarlet letters. m. o. s. l. e. m. permanently branding me for all to see. the weird thing was i thought you had to be hiv positive before you got aids. just like i thought that it didn’t matter what god you praised. but i guess i was wrong. all along i had believed it’s what’s inside that counts.
subconsciously i had been counting on that belief all my life. just like i counted to 500 3x as i stood outside the classroom door. suddenly this bright diamond wasn’t refracting the light so well anymore. suddenly i had joined the poor kids, potheads, and short bus riders on the backs of chocolate milk cartons in the cafeteria. i can tell you that it took all the courage i possessed to walk into class. see the day before i’d let my secret slip during a discussion on world religions. less than a day later i learned just how fast bad news travels. it leaps from ear to ear faster than the speed of sound. like some sort of terrible telepathy.
i learned it doesn’t pay to be unique. it doesn’t pay to speak the truth. in a small southern town. where ignorance leaks from mouthpieces like faucets.
and you should have seen their faces. those open mouths. gyrating with wasps. buzzing in and out. you should have seen how there was unexpectedly more space around my desk. the kids treated me as if there was an electrified net all around me. they continued to hound me for the rest of the day, month, and school year. even when i was brought to tears by the horrible things they’d say. my parents just thought kids were bullying me and encouraged me to take karate so i could learn to defend myself. but all i learned was how to hurt people just like they’d hurt me. and all the kicking and punching in the world couldn’t remove those 6 scarlet letters. m. o s. l. e. m.
so i transferred the next year. and lived the next 5 years in fear terrified that someone would find out. thinking back on it now, maybe it would have been better if i actually did have aids. at least then i could have made an early grave my home. instead of scraping that hatred off of my locker and bringing it home. to throw it in my parents face. this was all their fault in the first place. i had no choice in the matter, like a child in the womb of someone with an alcohol or drug addiction. this affliction was passed on to me at birth.
a disease that made me worship 5 times a day. a disease that forced me to pray in arabic instead of english. a disease that made me wish that i’d been born to different parents. ones that went to church on sunday’s and ate porkchops and pepperoni.
so at the early age of 14 i disowned my mom and dad and lived a lie trying my hardest to become someone else. i wish i could tell you that i wake up each morning stare at the man in the mirror and love who i see. since triumphing over adversity has made me stronger. but the truth is …i don’t.
aids can lie dormant for many years before it manifests. it doesn’t matter what the test results say. i’m positive. that i will probably deny those 6 scarlet letters until my dying day. but they’ll always be a vital part of me. a constant reminder that ignorance exists everywhere. a constant reminder to be careful what i say to who and how. a constant reminder that i will always be different. but being different is not a capital offense. and these are the lessons i’ll hold close. so when the day comes that i awake with aids again. i’ll get up take my medicine and move on with my life
the corporate slave mentality
don’t speak to me when you see me
just because you look like me don’t acknowledge our similarities
we are not the same
even though we’re both playing in the same corporate game
remain with your head and eyes away from mine
don’t give the others any sign that we might be fraternizing behind their backs
face the facts that even though we’re both black we can’t relate to one another
don’t refer to me as your brother
or i’ll treat you like you’re from another planet
don’t take it for granted that i will help out your career
just because we appear to have similar backgrounds
if you come around my office looking for advice i’m going to shut you down
because it’s my job to keep you down and i’ve accepted this position
kissing ass might get you passed my secretary
but i’m the one making the decisions
it’s a given that you want to be where i am in a few years
but don’t mistake me for one of your peers
because we are not the same
on your first day you came up to me and introduced yourself
asked me to schedule a lunch with you and i wanted to help
but don’t you understand that we can’t be seen at the same table in the cafeteria
if two blacks sit together it could cause mass hysteria
and don’t mention the fact that whites sit together all the time
their skin isn’t dark like yours and mine
and we don’t play by the same rules
when you see me don’t start talking cool like we’re back in the hood
i’m only telling you these things for your own good
we’ve got to cherish the token positions that they give us
because they only let us bust through that glass ceiling one person at a time
and since i had to struggle and climb, you do to
but hey you’re new, you didn’t know how it would be
you thought you were worthy just because you got a master’s degree?
well to them you’re just a monkey that climbed out of a tree
started walking upright and put on a suit
you think you’re working
but they see it as dancing and doing tricks for fruit
because they believe that’s all we know
so swallow your pride and throw your cultural heritage out the window
there’s no room for african antics inside these skyscrapers
my only motivation is the paper and i’m not talking about the newspaper either
so you tell me that neither one of us would even be here
if it wasn’t for civil rights or affirmative action
does it give you some kind of satisfaction to know that you’re only filling a quota
may i suggest that you go grow a scrotum and some balls
because that’s the only thing that’s going to help you succeed inside of these walls
not all of us are here because we satisfy some governmental mandate
i really hate to see people like you coming up to me
acting like we’re familiar
please remember the pillar of this whole conversation
that we are not the same
because i’ve been tamed
and you’re still wild like some animal in the bush
stop trying to frame me or push me into caring about your cause
remember that the laws are changing and the only thing that will guarantee your job
is to step and fetch it as fast as you can
if you wanted to be the man you should have opened up your own company
why don’t you go rap, or pick up a basketball and get the hell away from me
can’t you see that i only got here by cutting off the claws of crabs like you
trying to pull me back into the barrel but i’ve remained true to my principals
and it’s actually quite simple, see we’re just black pimples on the white man’s ass
the difference between me and you is that i stay isol
ated while you’re just like a rash
trying to infect other areas with your black empowerment slang
we’re not all in the same gang
we don’t all drink kool-aid and tang
we don’t all hang out by the liquor store talking about how great we could have been
some of us really have become great
so i would appreciate it if you didn’t ever talk to me again
we’re not friends
i’m just giving you the advice i was never given
that living the white man’s dream is the only way to beat him at his own game
so when you become ceo of this company
you can promote your kind of diversity
and when people ask you to explain
do so by simply saying
because
we are not the same
work shit
my brains fried
tired of this computer screen
this working waking dream makes me want to scream
who will be my screen saver
my screen savior
white collar labor is my excuse for bad behavior
can’t see the forest for the trees
i have no clue why the caged bird sings
maybe he just likes his job
but i don’t like mine
will this day ever end
i can’t even fake a grin when these silly ass corporate cretins
come knocking on my office door
they probably think i’m a bore
but to me there’s just so much more to live for
than working forty or ninety hours a week
putting money down some white man’s jeans
i sometimes daydream that one day
i’ll be like that white man
driving a white luxury sedan
to a beach with white sands
demanding to speak to the white manager of the resort
because i need extra white towels
to wipe my ass with
i need to lay down on a great white king size bed
and wear white satin sheets on my head
while drinking white star champagne
i forget about my black pain and my black name
cuz i’m sinking my white fangs
into this white american pie
every day we got people tryin and dyin to live like this
because where i come from
my people live in slum-like conditions
and some like the conditions they live in
because a concrete jungle is still better than living in prison
isn’t it
interesting what people will put up with
things like racism and stereotypes
they gripe and complain but remain relatively calm
you’d probably need a bomb to light a fire under their asses
but then you’d just blow them off
like we do everyday
