Monday-Mourning

Monday-Mourning

i will not RISE like a monday mornin'. 

Cursing the alarm clock.
Despising the sunlight.
Loathing the blackbirds chirp. 

i will not RISE like a monday mornin'. 

Forgetting what a smile feels like.
Forgetting what thank you tastes like.  

Forgetting what happiness looks like. 

i will not RISE like a monday mornin'. 

Needing coffee to awake my spirit.
Needing a smoke to bring me a step closer to death. 

Needing propaganda to beguile my idle mind.

i will not RISE like a monday mornin'. 

Disguised in lies,
Cloaked in fear, 

Guised in pride, 

Soaked in tears.  

i will not RISE like a monday mornin'. 

Without hope. 

Without dreams. 

Without purpose. 

Without God. 

© Sulē Cerdan 2015

Dreadlocks

They swung
like dreadlocks.
Underneath
thousands of falling suns.
Hundreds of limp bodies
dripping from poplar trees
casually ballroom dancing
with the wind.

Frozen in time
and space;
in fear and relief.

Despair braided
deep in their spines
like death had the hands
of African mothers.

They left US their bones
to use as stepping-stones.

So We swung
like dreadlocks.
Underneath
thousands of rising suns.
Hundreds of brawlers
unflinchingly spilling blood
like water on the seeds
of family trees.

Frozen in time
and space;
in love and faith.

Hope braided
deep in their spines
like God had the hands
of African mothers.

We will happily leave behind
OUR bones to use as
stepping-stones.

© Sulē Cerdan 2015

Great Void

The reason
We dig deep
Within our souls,
Is because
There are holes
In us...

Holding us
Hostage like infants
In mothers arms.

Begging to be filled
Like womens palms,
Like inner thighs,
Like foot massage...

You play the fool
They feed you lies.
I'm losin' cool,
I'm losin' mind,

Just maybe death
Might take his time.

If love is blind
Than I can see,
If love is blind
Oh I can see...

© Sulē Cerdan 2015

Mountain Of Bones

Scale the limbs.
Tower the land.
Guzzle the blood.
Obey “The Man”.

Ignore the screams.
Destroy your queens.
Ignite the hate.
Think God is green.

Think love is lies.
Think truth is guise.
You shoot to kill,
I shoot to FLY.

F irst
L ove
Y ourself.

No suit and tie,
Can bring you peace.
No piece you buy,
Can kill the beast.

So open eyes,
Oh open eyes,
And see the Truth
Right through the lies.

Scale the limbs.
Tower the land.
Guzzle the blood.
Call Out “The Man”!

© Sulē Cerdan 2015

© Sulē Cerdan 2014

The Color of Truth

The cleanse of a smile,
The wave of a hand,
The drift of a laugh,
The heart understands.
So I’m sayin’...
You can’t put a color on that.

The grace of a stride,
The hope in the eyes,
The breath of fresh air,
The words of the wise.
Don’t deny...
Cuz you can’t put a color on that.

The sorrow of tears,
The grieving of loss,
The circle of friends
to help shoulder the cross.
At all costs...
Man, you can’t put a color on that.

The peace in your mind
The spirit of love,
The wake of your dreams
The One up above.
Spreading love,
Cuz you can’t put a color on that.

© Sulē Cerdan 2014

Midnight Daydream

Take my hands.
Wrap them around your light
like a python until your heart spills
all over me like a waterfall.

Soften my heart.
Hard things are
like promises,
they always tend
to break so easily.

Open my eyes.
Some can tell me
that God is real.
But you...you
can show me.

Enlighten my dark.
There was once a
monster living under my bed.
He moved inside of my head
and had a brood of bébé's kids.

Some nights I’m afraid
of my own thoughts.
So I write them down
like eviction notices.
But like this daydream,
they always return.
Unwelcomed.

© Sulē Cerdan 2014

Summer Of 89'

You left a love letter chalk-outlined
in the middle of Quincy and Lexington ave.

Right where our parents parents
used to play hopscotch with slave bones.

20-feet above it your heart was found dangling
like a gold chain from a white noose-knotted
shoelace bowline tied to a power line.

The neighborhood kids played cops & robbers
underneath it everyday that summer without
looking up once. You would of thought they
had an iron ball & chain shackled to their necks.

That was the summer your heart
became a mistletoe for His kiss of death.

Just maybe once upon a time guns were boom boxes.
And revolutions were fair-skinned babies everybody
wanted to have.

But something happened...
Someone lost hope...
Somebody forgot...

© Sulē Cerdan 2014

Sulē - "Walking Down The Street" (Video)
Inspired by Suzanne Collins "The Hanging Tree".

Lyrics:
Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street,
They gunned down a man, who only wanted peace.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different will it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street,
Where dead men called out, for equality.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different will it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street
You might not make it home, because of bigotry.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different will it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street
Please lower your pistol, and come and march with me.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different will it be
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street
You might not make it home, because of bigotry.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different will it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street,
They gunned down a man, who only wanted peace.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different will it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street,
Where dead men called out, for equality.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different will it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Sulē - "Walking Down The Street" (Lyric Video)
Inspired by Suzanne Collins "The Hanging Tree".

Lyrics:
Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street,
They gunned down a man, who only wanted peace.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different would it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street,
Where dead men called out, for equality.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different would it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street
You might not make it home, because of bigotry.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different would it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street
Please lower your pistol, and come and march with me.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different would it be
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street
You might not make it home, because of bigotry.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different would it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street,
They gunned down a man, who only wanted peace.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different would it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

Hey you, hey you
Walking down the street,
Where dead men called out, for equality.
Same shit keep happenin’
No different would it be,
If we keep livin’ life without humanity.

When You Die...

Will the earth swallow you like a harlot on a
one-night stand — graceful and seductive but numbly?

Or like a serpent — slow and (w)hol(l)y but breathtaking?

Maybe even a drunkard guzzling whiskey —
regretful and riotous but unforgettable.

What will these poems that I master(P)iece with
dinosaur bones mean when death deciphers them?

Who will dig up their skeletons barehanded in a graveyard
of memories; In a night sky of fallen stars; In a deep sea of
emptiness?

Some people epitaph your last words
on the tombstones of their hearts.
While others place a rose on your
grave and disappear forever.

Beauty still lingers. 
Love still dwells. 
Search deeper.

save our souls

I search for you
in midnight walks,
in aimless trains
and barefaced talks.

In ghetto blues
and closing walls,
on lifeless faces
and broken laws.

I wonder why
you never show,
how could you let
your children grow?

The world is such
a lonely place,
sometimes its tough
to lean on faith.

But still I try
to hear your call,
so if you listen
please break my fall.

Phenomenal Woman (After Maya Angelou)

All the fellas wonder where her secret lies.

She’s not a damsel in distress or a floozy in disguise. 

But when I start to tell them, 

They swear I’m spewing lies. 

I say, 

It’s the flip of her hair, 

The bat of her eyes, 

The jazz in her laugh, 

The gift of her thighs. 

She’s a woman 

Phenomenally.  

Phenomenal woman 

Is she.

She catwalks into a room 

like a lioness in the wild.

The women study her gait 

while the men’s jaws-drop when she smiles.

They gather around blocking out 

her shine like a posse of rumbling clouds.  

I say, 

Its the oomph in her hips, 

And the peace of her mind, 

The bounce of her breast, 

And the faith in her spine. 

She’s a woman 

Phenomenally.  

Phenomenal woman 

Is she. 

Men hate to admit it, 

but she steal’s their hearts with ease. 

A simple good morning text 

Or a friendly kiss on the cheek. 

A strong woman can make the 

Toughest cutthroats weak in the knees. 

I say, 

It’s the poet in her fingers, 

The world in her palms, 

The mother in her hugs, 

The wisdom in her calm. 

She’s a woman 

Phenomenally.  

Phenomenal woman 

Is she.   

Now you understand 

Just why her heads not down. 

She doesn’t smut or flaunt her butt 

Or live to make men proud.

When you see her on the street, 

It ought to make you bow. 

I say,

It’s in the sway of her arms, 

The poise of her chin, 

The tour of her curves, 

The taste of her wind. 

’Cause she’s a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman

Is she.

Cigarette Break

I’m ah fuckin’ 1AM walk alone in a snowstorm;
ah moment of silence in ah monastery full of mute monks…

…when the world sounds like one pompous crescendo of fuck yous;
one cemetery of ghost playing the quiet game.

Just snow squishing beneath the sole of my timberland boots,
ah memory bank full of reality checks, and darkness—
ah whole fuckin’ black sky of darkness seeping into
the open wounds too often mistaken for my eyes.

This is home.

Midnight body bags the saint inside of me
and brings out the criminal like ah sheriff.

The unknown excites me.
Their fear makes me feel alive again.
I wonder how many times a day she pretends.

Life can be so fuckin’ selfish sometimes.

When I come back I promise I’ll be ah martyr or something,
but right now I just need to get the fuck out of dodge…

Blue Devils with Black Hearts (Kensington Ave)

Imagine seeing the same
dope fiends EVERY morning.

Nodding off underneath the same railroad bridge
like a corpse covered in tombstone.
Begging for change on the same infamous
drug corners spewing the same sob stories
like preschool teachers.

(…Her eyes were two glass crystal balls
lodged in her face scrying hopeless.
She needed two quarters. I wish I could
have given her hope instead…)

Wearing the same tramp
stamps like medals of honor.
The same prostitutes that
were once daddy’s little girl.

Now they open their legs
like paychecks; like
virginity grows on trees.

Life for them is a tightrope
bowline tied on two dead-ends…

Building Sand Castles For Mermaids

A Woman’s heart is 90% ocean.

The 90% that remains unexplored.
The 90% thats just remains of relation-
SHIPwrecks littering ocean floors.

After tripping down memory lane enough
She starts sweeping the pieces underneath
tidal waves of secrets. Then waves
goodbye to love like one-night stands.

The blueness makes blue our favorite color.

We yearn to skinny-dip into an ocean of Her.
To let Her emotions run deep into the lifeguard
of our arms.

The 10% is what we can’t take our eyes off…

What our hands vogue shadow puppets of at night…
What foxily creeps into our sweet dreams when
we’re sound asleep…that is until we fuck the
angel out of Her.

But don’t worry Love…
I promise somewhere there’s an
island with your name written all over it.