tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57882712867830613232024-03-05T13:16:36.239-08:00Invisible TattoosAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.comBlogger152125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-10953382725705990622015-04-19T20:00:00.001-07:002015-04-19T20:00:16.239-07:00The Ghetto's Ritual<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">There they go again. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Posted outside the Papi Store </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">with lucy’s tucked between </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">the crannies of their ears like carpenters. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Babbling lyrics from rap songs </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">while their arms catch holy ghost; </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">while the hour glass of their </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">freedom dwindles away abruptly. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><i>“...It's all about the motherfuckin’ money!</i></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><i>It's all about the motherfuckin’ money!...” </i></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><i></i></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i see myself in the </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">reflection of their lost; </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">in the indifference of </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">their laughter; </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">in the quiet of their pain. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Five-O creeps through the block </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">like a drive-by, while the drug dealers </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">stand their ground like a Mexican standoff. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The tension is thick enough </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">to cut with a prison shank.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><i>“Ayooooooo!...where the bitches at bro?” </i></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><i>“Stayin’ away from you broke ass niggas!” </i></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><i>“Yeah iight, i get bitches nigga!” </i></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><i>“Imagine that. The last time you got some pussy, DMX made a hit record.” </i></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><i>“HAHAHA!!!” </i></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><i></i></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The air tastes like a black family reunion cookout down south. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The new mothers proudly push their infant babies in strollers, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">while waiting on a collect call from the incarcerated fathers. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Their girlfriends awkwardly flaunt their baby bumps. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The newsy church women watch in shame, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">even though they became mothers at much younger ages. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The kids recklessly ride their bikes in the street </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">with no parents in sight. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The universe colors our skin with sun.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<br />
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">...summer is around the corner. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">
</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>© Sulē Cerdan 2015</b></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-44387366403759842322015-03-02T15:14:00.001-08:002015-03-02T15:14:09.805-08:00The Stamp (ADHD)<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
Run child. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
From them Ritalin pushers; </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
them Adderall peddlers; </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
them Concerta dealers. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
Waiting, </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
Lurking, </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
Hoping, </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
To bottle up your spirit. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
To put a cork in your passion. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
To place a lid on your bizarre. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
Run farrrr child. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
Beyond their boxes. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
Beyond their brands, </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
that make “The Man” rich. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
And puts his children </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
through college, while ours </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
become (add)icts. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
But this country </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
was built off genocide. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
The Land of the Free, </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
The Land that made a killin’ </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
off selling lies. </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
So why stop now, </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
when history was written </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
by those who have lynched prophets </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
and shot down revolutionaries? </div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; padding: 0px;">
<b>© Sulē Cerdan 2015</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiw9o_ctOeSVngF23FpMqgogu9e5_FrFXiEm9Ts-QdfQ7SQ4OnwaeI71VxWG4BfhHW1a1N3lSlG-nlC0xGio3k0CSBaGMB1ycn4pAzKDXERLQLPN7lEJY9QQKXhP-SwdSYTEeRZekJGE/s1600/ADHD05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiw9o_ctOeSVngF23FpMqgogu9e5_FrFXiEm9Ts-QdfQ7SQ4OnwaeI71VxWG4BfhHW1a1N3lSlG-nlC0xGio3k0CSBaGMB1ycn4pAzKDXERLQLPN7lEJY9QQKXhP-SwdSYTEeRZekJGE/s1600/ADHD05.jpg" height="320" width="302" /></a></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-58673576864851052762015-02-26T17:20:00.002-08:002015-02-26T17:20:15.590-08:00Broken Vows
<br />
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Love doesn’t live there... </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the gaze of their eyes, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the shouts of goodbyes, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the warmth of their bed, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the stress of their sighs, </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the streets when they walk, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the car when they drive, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the stores where they shop, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the house where they hide. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Love doesn’t live there...</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the black of her heart, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the blues of his soul, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the red of their eyes, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the gray of their old, </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the bones in their closets, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the ghost of their past, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the dope of their gossip, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">In the shroud of their mask. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Love doesn’t live there. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
I wonder, </div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">did it ever? </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">© Sulē Cerdan 2015</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-46735476889234075722015-02-24T17:44:00.002-08:002015-02-24T20:46:48.984-08:00The Walk HomeThe phony smiles.<br />
The slack shoulders.<br />
The dismal eyes,<br />
Bloodshot and weary.<br />
The unhealed wounds.<br />
The deep regrets.<br />
The mechanized steps, <br />
Vain and Godless.<br />
i hate it.<br />
The way they<br />
flaunt fake.<br />
The way they<br />
pretend confidence.<br />
The way they<br />
advocate lies,<br />
The way it flows<br />
off their tongues<br />
like oxygen. <br />
Ignorance is<br />
ubiquitous.<br />
In the air and<br />
in the streets.<br />
In the homes<br />
and in the schools.<br />
It made me.<br />
Now it makes<br />
me sick.<br />
But hope<br />
is and always<br />
has been my<br />
medicine.<br />
So i carry on.<br />
Hoping.<br />
<br />
© Sulē Cerdan 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-84678682770488889262015-02-22T17:23:00.001-08:002015-02-22T17:25:39.794-08:00Red CarpetWhen the red carpet fills,<br />
When the red carpet fills.<br />
<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The churches grow idle,<br />
The protests go still.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The playgrounds forsakened,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>while brain cells are killed.<br />
When the red carpet fills,<br />
When the red carpet fills.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The stars become Gods,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Gods words become lies.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Real becomes fake,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>and beauty becomes guise.<br />
When the red carpet fills,<br />
When the red carpet fills. <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Legacies are forgotten,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>History is rewritten. <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Ancestors have rottened,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>and enemies keep living.<br />
When the red carpet fills,<br />
When the red carpet fills.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our lives become fruitless,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our smiles become dull.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Our freedom turns futile,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>imprisoned by walls.<br />
When the red carpet fills,<br />
When the red carpet fills.<br />
It fills the whole world<br />
with Lucifer’s will.<br />
<br />
© Sulē Cerdan 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-37538423369734858482015-02-18T17:15:00.001-08:002015-02-18T17:15:53.337-08:00the new slavesIt used to be,<br />
Afros and Dashikis.<br />
Black Berets and Power Fists.<br />
<br />
Now its,<br />
Tattoos and Silicone.<br />
Blond Wigs and Ego Trips.<br />
<br />
You see,<br />
a Real Nigga is<br />
the new Black and Proud.<br />
The new peaceful March on Washington,<br />
The new Railroads Underground.<br />
The new Lindy Hops till bodies drop,<br />
The new Soul Trains to James Brown.<br />
<br />
We’ve been got!<br />
Swindled!<br />
Hoodwinked!<br />
Led astray! <br />
<br />
Like our ancestors.<br />
<br />
Like our ancestors<br />
ancestors, who prayed<br />
that their great great<br />
grandchildren wouldn’t<br />
have to live their life in chains. <br />
<br />
Well...<br />
It used to be.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-41692674239399659622015-02-16T17:19:00.002-08:002015-02-28T19:12:44.856-08:00TimeTime.<br />
<br />
The thorn in my side.<br />
The apple of my eyes.<br />
The heaven in my laugh.<br />
The cynic in my why.<br />
<br />
Time.<br />
<br />
A felons nightmare.<br />
A soldiers dream.<br />
A nine-to-fivers curse.<br />
A bank robbers scheme.<br />
<br />
Time.<br />
<br />
An illusion turned real.<br />
An intrusion on will.<br />
A solution to jail a<br />
revolutions bold shrill.<br />
<br />
Time. <br />
<br />
A dying man’s wish.<br />
A broken man’s hell.<br />
A holy man’s grace.<br />
A lucky man’s spell.<br />
<br />
Time.<br />
<br />
Ticking...Flying...<br />
Ticking...Flying...<br />
Away.<br />
<br />
© Sulē Cerdan 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-11067488516025188892015-02-11T17:39:00.002-08:002015-02-11T17:39:56.303-08:00Monday-Mourning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEqzYeUZk0TrIimX_p_JEfZ-4Mlm1vXr8zhD8kidKKav4mJBztqIpsC4reW5PzqbeJHraUmqP54si6NZifyFAQ6WGc8Ez0DQEDhaVDm4BigEuiLEcO_jO_283G0aPrinYUyYqpu_z192k/s1600/monday+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEqzYeUZk0TrIimX_p_JEfZ-4Mlm1vXr8zhD8kidKKav4mJBztqIpsC4reW5PzqbeJHraUmqP54si6NZifyFAQ6WGc8Ez0DQEDhaVDm4BigEuiLEcO_jO_283G0aPrinYUyYqpu_z192k/s1600/monday+5.jpg" height="245" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-10416508408314387622015-02-11T17:38:00.003-08:002015-02-11T17:38:57.148-08:00Monday-Mourning<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i will not RISE like a monday mornin'. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Cursing the alarm clock. <br />
Despising the sunlight. <br />
Loathing the blackbirds chirp. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i will not RISE like a monday mornin'. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Forgetting what a smile feels like. <br />
Forgetting what thank you tastes like. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Forgetting what happiness looks like. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i will not RISE like a monday mornin'. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Needing coffee to awake my spirit. <br />
Needing a smoke to bring me a step closer to death. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Needing propaganda to beguile my idle mind.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i will not RISE like a monday mornin'. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Disguised in lies, <br />
Cloaked in fear, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Guised in pride, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Soaked in tears. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">i will not RISE like a monday mornin'. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Without hope. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Without dreams. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Without purpose. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Without God. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<br />
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">© Sulē Cerdan 2015</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-20564369971114469352015-02-09T17:40:00.003-08:002015-02-09T17:40:44.422-08:00DreadlocksThey swung<br />
like dreadlocks.<br />
Underneath<br />
thousands of falling suns.<br />
Hundreds of limp bodies<br />
dripping from poplar trees<br />
casually ballroom dancing<br />
with the wind.<br />
<br />
Frozen in time<br />
and space;<br />
in fear and relief.<br />
<br />
Despair braided<br />
deep in their spines<br />
like death had the hands<br />
of African mothers.<br />
<br />
They left US their bones<br />
to use as stepping-stones.<br />
<br />
So We swung<br />
like dreadlocks.<br />
Underneath<br />
thousands of rising suns.<br />
Hundreds of brawlers<br />
unflinchingly spilling blood<br />
like water on the seeds<br />
of family trees.<br />
<br />
Frozen in time<br />
and space;<br />
in love and faith.<br />
<br />
Hope braided<br />
deep in their spines<br />
like God had the hands<br />
of African mothers.<br />
<br />
We will happily leave behind<br />
OUR bones to use as<br />
stepping-stones.<br />
<br />
© Sulē Cerdan 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-32176705995982669092015-01-14T16:05:00.000-08:002015-01-14T16:05:14.111-08:00Great VoidThe reason<br />
We dig deep<br />
Within our souls,<br />
Is because<br />
There are holes<br />
In us...<br />
<br />
Holding us<br />
Hostage like infants<br />
In mothers arms.<br />
<br />
Begging to be filled<br />
Like womens palms,<br />
Like inner thighs,<br />
Like foot massage...<br />
<br />
You play the fool<br />
They feed you lies.<br />
I'm losin' cool,<br />
I'm losin' mind,<br />
<br />
Just maybe death<br />
Might take his time.<br />
<br />
If love is blind<br />
Than I can see,<br />
If love is blind<br />
Oh I can see...<br />
<br />
<b>© Sulē Cerdan 2015</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-50254679661688768302015-01-11T17:27:00.000-08:002015-01-11T17:27:27.341-08:00Mountain Of BonesScale the limbs.<br />
Tower the land.<br />
Guzzle the blood.<br />
Obey “The Man”.<br />
<br />
Ignore the screams.<br />
Destroy your queens.<br />
Ignite the hate.<br />
Think God is green.<br />
<br />
Think love is lies.<br />
Think truth is guise.<br />
You shoot to kill,<br />
I shoot to FLY.<br />
<br />
F irst<br />
L ove<br />
Y ourself.<br />
<br />
No suit and tie,<br />
Can bring you peace.<br />
No piece you buy,<br />
Can kill the beast.<br />
<br />
So open eyes,<br />
Oh open eyes,<br />
And see the Truth<br />
Right through the lies.<br />
<br />
Scale the limbs.<br />
Tower the land.<br />
Guzzle the blood.<br />
Call Out “The Man”!<br />
<br />
© Sulē Cerdan 2015Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-31866125305417263452014-12-28T17:32:00.001-08:002014-12-28T17:32:16.388-08:00© Sulē Cerdan 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2eHu0R93EAinPHGnbeT5Ut14gZ6nrWFMLqJZ4pDNh6RB1eI07ID33PJY2yYD8idvguhXQmwccCYjnXzRxsnba3b7TJ1pv6Tpq7VIW9dbbenrboHvXudidWwm2PbHPLAYbHNOqi-T12s/s1600/Hope+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2eHu0R93EAinPHGnbeT5Ut14gZ6nrWFMLqJZ4pDNh6RB1eI07ID33PJY2yYD8idvguhXQmwccCYjnXzRxsnba3b7TJ1pv6Tpq7VIW9dbbenrboHvXudidWwm2PbHPLAYbHNOqi-T12s/s1600/Hope+4.jpg" height="320" width="318" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-23904625293304799162014-12-22T17:54:00.003-08:002014-12-22T17:54:53.440-08:00The Color of TruthThe cleanse of a smile,<br />
The wave of a hand,<br />
The drift of a laugh,<br />
The heart understands.<br />
So I’m sayin’...<br />
You can’t put a color on that.<br />
<br />
The grace of a stride, <br />
The hope in the eyes,<br />
The breath of fresh air,<br />
The words of the wise.<br />
Don’t deny...<br />
Cuz you can’t put a color on that.<br />
<br />
The sorrow of tears,<br />
The grieving of loss,<br />
The circle of friends<br />
to help shoulder the cross.<br />
At all costs...<br />
Man, you can’t put a color on that.<br />
<br />
The peace in your mind<br />
The spirit of love,<br />
The wake of your dreams <br />
The One up above.<br />
Spreading love,<br />
Cuz you can’t put a color on that.<br />
<br />
© Sulē Cerdan 2014Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-10185390368024051792014-12-21T17:01:00.000-08:002014-12-21T17:04:11.488-08:00Midnight Daydream<b>Take my hands.</b><br />
Wrap them around your light<br />
like a python until your heart spills<br />
all over me like a waterfall.<br />
<br />
<b>Soften my heart.</b><br />
Hard things are<br />
like promises,<br />
they always tend<br />
to break so easily.<br />
<br />
<b>Open my eyes.</b><br />
Some can tell me<br />
that God is real.<br />
But you...you<br />
can show me.<br />
<br />
<b>Enlighten my dark.</b> <br />
There was once a<br />
monster living under my bed.<br />
He moved inside of my head<br />
and had a brood of bébé's kids.<br />
<br />
Some nights I’m afraid<br />
of my own thoughts.<br />
So I write them down<br />
like eviction notices.<br />
But like this daydream,<br />
they always return.<br />
Unwelcomed.<br />
<br />
© Sulē Cerdan 2014Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-73291714940200561352014-12-11T20:18:00.002-08:002014-12-11T22:12:57.725-08:00Summer Of 89'You left a love letter chalk-outlined<br />
in the middle of Quincy and Lexington ave.<br />
<br />
Right where our parents parents<br />
used to play hopscotch with slave bones.<br />
<br />
20-feet above it your heart was found dangling<br />
like a gold chain from a white noose-knotted<br />
shoelace bowline tied to a power line.<br />
<br />
The neighborhood kids played cops & robbers<br />
underneath it everyday that summer without<br />
looking up once. You would of thought they<br />
had an iron ball & chain shackled to their necks.<br />
<br />
That was the summer your heart<br />
became a mistletoe for His kiss of death.<br />
<br />
Just maybe once upon a time guns were boom boxes.<br />
And revolutions were fair-skinned babies everybody<br />
wanted to have.<br />
<br />
But something happened...<br />
Someone lost hope...<br />
Somebody forgot...<br />
<br />
© Sulē Cerdan 2014 Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-35401978731274794882014-12-07T19:29:00.002-08:002014-12-07T19:29:24.913-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Owdy2Annubw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Sulē - "Walking Down The Street" (Video)<br />
Inspired by Suzanne Collins "The Hanging Tree".<br />
<br />
Lyrics:<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street, <br />
They gunned down a man, who only wanted peace. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different will it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.<br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street, <br />
Where dead men called out, for equality. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different will it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.<br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street <br />
You might not make it home, because of bigotry. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different will it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.<br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street <br />
Please lower your pistol, and come and march with me. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different will it be<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.<br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street <br />
You might not make it home, because of bigotry. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different will it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity. <br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street, <br />
They gunned down a man, who only wanted peace. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different will it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity. <br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street, <br />
Where dead men called out, for equality. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different will it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-41742172092967852662014-12-05T09:35:00.000-08:002014-12-05T09:35:04.131-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Hd6Ceq1fwI8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Sulē - "Walking Down The Street" (Lyric Video)<br />
Inspired by Suzanne Collins "The Hanging Tree".<br />
<br />
Lyrics:<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street, <br />
They gunned down a man, who only wanted peace. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different would it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.<br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street, <br />
Where dead men called out, for equality. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different would it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.<br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street <br />
You might not make it home, because of bigotry. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different would it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.<br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street <br />
Please lower your pistol, and come and march with me. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different would it be<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.<br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street <br />
You might not make it home, because of bigotry. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different would it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity. <br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street, <br />
They gunned down a man, who only wanted peace. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different would it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity. <br />
<br />
Hey you, hey you <br />
Walking down the street, <br />
Where dead men called out, for equality. <br />
Same shit keep happenin’<br />
No different would it be,<br />
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-85915072932326614532014-12-03T18:29:00.002-08:002014-12-03T18:29:22.788-08:00When You Die...Will the earth swallow you like a <b>harlot</b> on a<br />
one-night stand — graceful and seductive but numbly?<br />
<br />
Or like a <b>serpent</b> — slow and (w)hol(l)y but breathtaking?<br />
<br />
Maybe even a <b>drunkard</b> guzzling whiskey —<br />
regretful and riotous but unforgettable.<br />
<br />
What will these poems that I master(P)iece with<br />
dinosaur bones mean when death deciphers them?<br />
<br />
Who will dig up their skeletons barehanded in a graveyard<br />
of memories; In a night sky of fallen stars; In a deep sea of<br />
emptiness?<br />
<br />
Some people epitaph your last words<br />
on the tombstones of their hearts.<br />
While others place a rose on your<br />
grave and disappear forever.<br />
<br />
<i>Beauty still lingers. </i><br />
<i>Love still dwells. </i><br />
<i>Search deeper.</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-35526527229475117452014-12-01T19:07:00.001-08:002014-12-01T19:09:46.401-08:00save our soulsI search for you<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>in midnight walks,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>in aimless trains<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>and barefaced talks.<br />
<br />
In ghetto blues<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>and closing walls,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>on lifeless faces<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>and broken laws.<br />
<br />
I wonder why<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>you never show,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>how could you let<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>your children grow?<br />
<br />
The world is such<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>a lonely place,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>sometimes its tough<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>to lean on faith.<br />
<br />
But still I try<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>to hear your call,<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>so if you listen<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>please break my fall.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-88607843082786746692014-11-30T18:05:00.000-08:002014-11-30T18:05:24.029-08:00Phenomenal Woman (After Maya Angelou)<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">All the fellas wonder where her secret lies.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She’s not a damsel in distress or a floozy in disguise. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">But when I start to tell them, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">They swear I’m spewing lies. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I say, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">It’s the flip of her hair, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The bat of her eyes, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The jazz in her laugh, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The gift of her thighs. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She’s a woman </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Phenomenally. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Phenomenal woman </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Is she.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She catwalks into a room </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">like a lioness in the wild.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The women study her gait </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">while the men’s jaws-drop when she smiles.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">They gather around blocking out </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">her shine like a posse of rumbling clouds. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I say, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Its the oomph in her hips, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">And the peace of her mind, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The bounce of her breast, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">And the faith in her spine. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She’s a woman </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Phenomenally. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Phenomenal woman </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Is she. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Men hate to admit it, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">but she steal’s their hearts with ease. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">A simple good morning text </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Or a friendly kiss on the cheek. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">A strong woman can make the </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Toughest cutthroats weak in the knees. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I say, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">It’s the poet in her fingers, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The world in her palms, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The mother in her hugs, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The wisdom in her calm. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She’s a woman </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Phenomenally. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Phenomenal woman </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Is she. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Now you understand </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Just why her heads not down. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">She doesn’t smut or flaunt her butt </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Or live to make men proud.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">When you see her on the street, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">It ought to make you bow. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I say,</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">It’s in the sway of her arms, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The poise of her chin, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The tour of her curves, </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">The taste of her wind. </span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">’Cause she’s a woman</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Phenomenally.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Phenomenal woman</span></div>
<br />
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Is she.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-62522731513960495892014-11-27T17:43:00.002-08:002014-11-27T17:46:10.282-08:00Cigarette BreakI’m ah fuckin’ 1AM walk alone in a snowstorm;<br />
ah moment of silence in ah monastery full of mute monks…<br />
<br />
…when the world sounds like one pompous crescendo of fuck yous;<br />
one cemetery of ghost playing the quiet game.<br />
<br />
Just snow squishing beneath the sole of my timberland boots,<br />
ah memory bank full of reality checks, and darkness—<br />
ah whole fuckin’ black sky of darkness seeping into<br />
the open wounds too often mistaken for my eyes.<br />
<br />
This is home.<br />
<br />
Midnight body bags the saint inside of me<br />
and brings out the criminal like ah sheriff.<br />
<br />
The unknown excites me.<br />
Their fear makes me feel alive again.<br />
I wonder how many times a day she pretends.<br />
<br />
Life can be so fuckin’ selfish sometimes.<br />
<br />
When I come back I promise I’ll be ah martyr or something,<br />
but right now I just need to get the fuck out of dodge…Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-72103470774740703262014-11-06T18:08:00.001-08:002014-11-06T21:49:19.894-08:00Blue Devils with Black Hearts (Kensington Ave)Imagine seeing the same<br />
dope fiends EVERY morning.<br />
<br />
Nodding off underneath the same railroad bridge<br />
like a corpse covered in tombstone.<br />
Begging for change on the same infamous<br />
drug corners spewing the same sob stories<br />
like preschool teachers.<br />
<br />
(…Her eyes were two glass crystal balls<br />
lodged in her face scrying hopeless.<br />
She needed two quarters. I wish I could<br />
have given her hope instead…)<br />
<br />
Wearing the same tramp<br />
stamps like medals of honor.<br />
The same prostitutes that<br />
were once daddy’s little girl.<br />
<br />
Now they open their legs<br />
like paychecks; like<br />
virginity grows on trees.<br />
<br />
Life for them is a tightrope<br />
bowline tied on two dead-ends…Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-28909795576758523222014-11-03T19:47:00.004-08:002014-11-03T19:47:33.009-08:00Building Sand Castles For MermaidsA Woman’s heart is 90% ocean.<br />
<br />
The 90% that remains unexplored.<br />
The 90% thats just remains of relation-<br />
SHIPwrecks littering ocean floors.<br />
<br />
After tripping down memory lane enough<br />
She starts sweeping the pieces underneath<br />
tidal waves of secrets. Then waves<br />
goodbye to love like one-night stands.<br />
<br />
The blueness makes blue our favorite color.<br />
<br />
We yearn to skinny-dip into an ocean of Her.<br />
To let Her emotions run deep into the lifeguard<br />
of our arms.<br />
<br />
The 10% is what we can’t take our eyes off…<br />
<br />
What our hands vogue shadow puppets of at night…<br />
What foxily creeps into our sweet dreams when<br />
we’re sound asleep…that is until we fuck the<br />
angel out of Her.<br />
<br />
But don’t worry Love…<br />
I promise somewhere there’s an<br />
island with your name written all over it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05563836743829378874noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5788271286783061323.post-83426627386693576742014-11-01T21:21:00.001-07:002014-11-01T21:21:05.754-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Uk0B3KAhvT0BW5K02lnQyysiqZo2NcOuZM-3AfZzDuGDeXFiX6Ch7mBNISPRF1NDTALICXi53G1zW6enoOvu-uwA4aMaMqGcujUK568I7ssodz6KQOg-eFzSh20P_d8ootWSrbzQkyc/s1600/tumblr_nedo1p24Gk1u121b4o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Uk0B3KAhvT0BW5K02lnQyysiqZo2NcOuZM-3AfZzDuGDeXFiX6Ch7mBNISPRF1NDTALICXi53G1zW6enoOvu-uwA4aMaMqGcujUK568I7ssodz6KQOg-eFzSh20P_d8ootWSrbzQkyc/s1600/tumblr_nedo1p24Gk1u121b4o1_500.jpg" height="320" width="257" /></a></div>
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