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Thursday, February 26, 2015

Broken Vows


Love doesn’t live there... 

In the gaze of their eyes, 
In the shouts of goodbyes, 
In the warmth of their bed, 
In the stress of their sighs, 

In the streets when they walk, 
In the car when they drive, 
In the stores where they shop, 
In the house where they hide. 

Love doesn’t live there...

In the black of her heart, 
In the blues of his soul, 
In the red of their eyes, 
In the gray of their old, 

In the bones in their closets, 
In the ghost of their past, 
In the dope of their gossip,  
In the shroud of their mask. 

Love doesn’t live there. 

I wonder, 
did it ever? 

© Sulē Cerdan 2015

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

The Walk Home

The phony smiles.
The slack shoulders.
The dismal eyes,
Bloodshot and weary.
The unhealed wounds.
The deep regrets.
The mechanized steps,
Vain and Godless.
i hate it.
The way they
flaunt fake.
The way they
pretend confidence.
The way they
advocate lies,
The way it flows
off their tongues
like oxygen.
Ignorance is
ubiquitous.
In the air and
in the streets.
In the homes
and in the schools.
It made me.
Now it makes
me sick.
But hope
is and always
has been my
medicine.
So i carry on.
Hoping.

© Sulē Cerdan 2015

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Red Carpet

When the red carpet fills,
When the red carpet fills.
  The churches grow idle,
          The protests go still.
The playgrounds forsakened,
while brain cells are killed.
When the red carpet fills,
When the red carpet fills.
The stars become Gods,
Gods words become lies.
Real becomes fake,
and beauty becomes guise.
When the red carpet fills,
When the red carpet fills.
Legacies are forgotten,
History is rewritten.
Ancestors have rottened,
and enemies keep living.
When the red carpet fills,
When the red carpet fills.
Our lives become fruitless,
Our smiles become dull.
Our freedom turns futile,
imprisoned by walls.
When the red carpet fills,
When the red carpet fills.
It fills the whole world
with Lucifer’s will.

© Sulē Cerdan 2015

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

the new slaves

It used to be,
Afros and Dashikis.
Black Berets and Power Fists.

Now its,
Tattoos and Silicone.
Blond Wigs and Ego Trips.

You see,
a Real Nigga is
the new Black and Proud.
The new peaceful March on Washington,
The new Railroads Underground.
The new Lindy Hops till bodies drop,
The new Soul Trains to James Brown.

We’ve been got!
Swindled!
Hoodwinked!
Led astray!

Like our ancestors.

Like our ancestors
ancestors, who prayed
that their great great
grandchildren wouldn’t
have to live their life in chains.

Well...
It used to be.

Monday, February 16, 2015

Time

Time.

The thorn in my side.
The apple of my eyes.
The heaven in my laugh.
The cynic in my why.

Time.

A felons nightmare.
A soldiers dream.
A nine-to-fivers curse.
A bank robbers scheme.

Time.

An illusion turned real.
An intrusion on will.
A solution to jail a
revolutions bold shrill.

Time.

A dying man’s wish.
A broken man’s hell.
A holy man’s grace.
A lucky man’s spell.

Time.

Ticking...Flying...
Ticking...Flying...
Away.

© Sulē Cerdan 2015

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

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

Monday, February 9, 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

Wednesday, January 14, 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

Sunday, January 11, 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

Sunday, December 28, 2014

© Sulē Cerdan 2014


Monday, December 22, 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

Sunday, December 21, 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

Thursday, December 11, 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

Sunday, December 7, 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.

Friday, December 5, 2014


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.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

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.

Monday, December 1, 2014

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.

Sunday, November 30, 2014

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.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

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…