POETRY: NIGGER by Reggie Drake

"You better run NIGGER,

You better run,

Because if I catch you,

Ill wring your motherfxckin neck."

So I run.

Full stride eyes wide

Through this,

Jungle of oppression that has for years ensnared us

NIGGERS.

Dashing past blood stained whips,

Our torture devices

The symbol of our ever present nightmares

Each lash psychologically re-calibrating the mind

To acquiesce to an authority distinguishable by 

The pigment etched within our flesh.

Each lash reminding us,

That they are the masters,

And we are simply

NIGGERS.

I, hear the galloping footsteps of the crusaders

Giving chase to my dreams 

Their hands,

Callus free,

Devoid of the affliction we endure 

Hope to put a stranglehold on freedom and,

Kill equality

By putting those little nigger nooses

Around our ebony necks

Declaring us "noose-ances" 

tying lifeless bodies to trees,

That grow seeds,

Planting compliance

Inside the fertile minds of our offspring 

Until we subconsciously generate an army of subservient slaves

Until we realize,

Until we grow to accept 

That this is the land of the white man

And, we are simply

NIGGERS 

That word NIGGER keeps me running,

Even though my legs falter from fatigue

I stumble over natures debris,

But I ignore the rocky roadblocks jeopardizing my escape,

Focus straight ahead,

The smell of blood

The blood of my ancestors infiltrates my nostrils,

Suffocating my lungs with the spirit of survival.

I feed off of their energy,

My legs propelling me forward 

Like gears operating a time machine 

Racing me through history

To a time where we are free,

My legs move me straight into the 1960s where,

Civil rights seems to be the new fight to fight 

New age slavery

"You better NIGGER 

You better run"

I hear his voice ricocheting inside my cranium

So I run,

Past blacks and whites that show persistence for coexistence 

But its no different,

Then it was years past

Each one harboring the Jesus-Judah complex,

Waiting for the other to betray

They whisper

"Look, there goes that nigger 

He, thinks hes one of us but hes not"

You can smell the animosity in the air 

Like armed forces forcibly forced to converse 

Till they clash,

I see riots

I see violence

I see signs,

White only 

Black only

Picket signs.

I see fire-hoses

Police dogs

Fights start 

Bodies Fall

Assassinations from long-range

Then I stop,

At change.

I take a break,

Breathe a sigh,

Relax.

Our struggle is finally over...

Then I hear,

"You better run NIGGER,

You better run"

They still give chase,

Our dreams deferred,

The shackles of the past havent been removed 

They've simply been replaced with welfare checks and 

Food stamps that Uncle Sam dangles 

From the top of our hanging tree 

Distracting us just long enough for him to place those,

NIGGER nooses around our unsuspecting necks 

We are lulled into poverty and complacency,

Then strangled by genocide,

Our dreams dry up like raisins in the sun

Guns blast holes through car doors like its cardboard

Killing young boys whose aspirations crumble under the weight 

Of our infinite struggle 

We struggle,

To put down those food stamps that stamp inferiority 

Across our chests

Openly broadcasting to the world

"Hey, i dont wanna enhance my livelihood 

Im okay with barely staying alive in hoods 

Until I die for good,

Until they bury me,

Right underneath that hanging tree 

Where America places those 

NIGGER nooses then let

NIGGERS noose NIGGERS necks

Till they snap,

Bones crack

Fracturing the backbones of black homes 

I still hear them damn echoes

"You better run NIGGER,

You better run"

Well Ive been runnin,

For hundreds of years 

Only to see my brothers calling each other 

The same word Ive been running from,

NIGGERS

Where Im from,\

NIGGERS is the same word they used when they beat our backs 

Till black turned blue

Where Im from,

NIGGERS aint shxt

Where Im from a NIGGER,

is 3/5s of a person,

As if God didnt make us all from the same dust they place 

Our face in,

That word made us weak,

But we dont discard, 

We embrace it.

I run when I hear it on the radio,

I run where I hear it on the streets

But,

What am I running for 

Im so tired.

So wake me when Im not a NIGGER.

I dont wanna run

NO MORE.

POETRY: Revelation by Reggie Drake

Ever since I was a boy,
I dreamed of those lights.
Those bright suffocating lights
That infected the stage with its insufferable aura.
Insuring that every eyeball in the room was steadily glued
To that human statue...
Who would begin to speak.
Ravaging the crowd with bars upon bars  of
Creative and relatable context
That sent them spiraling into a whirlpool of ecstacy,
I remember watching,
With awe-inspiring eyes as a single man
Was able to elevate the volume of the venue several octanes
To eye drum busting levels,
And the heat,
The energy,
The intensity
Was tangible.
The musical vibrations carried the essence and emotion of the performer
Into the awaiting multitude...
And i envied his idolization...
Even if his rhymes were elementary.
And I went farther from home,
Later the world of wordplay became familiar
As i hit the cypher circuits,
I loved it when the DJ went "erka, erka, erk"
All over the old vinyl,
While the crowd goes wild in the background.
I would slowly take the mic from his hand and proceeded to
Wreck shxt so hard the microphone would need a paint job,
My mouth articulating the idiom over a sample of Pete Rock & CL Smooth
That they so conspicuously vibe to,
Hip Hop fanatics would scream
"Damn did you just see that?"
"Did you just see that??"
Exploding euphorically
The sound was eclectic
The energy was palpable
The made me feel like a god,
Legendary,
Continuously gassing me up hoping I wouldn't drop to E
I was on the precipice of greatness.
Willing to do whatever it took for the sake of a lavish lifestyle ...\
Even though i knew,
I was in the land where they barely understand what I speak
But they nod to my flow and the rhythm of the beat
They would see how many times I could rhyme in one sentence
But little did they know that this was just the beginning
I got big,
Blew up like Hiroshima,
Transforming a daydream fantasy into a reality,
I was the performer in my youth,
Galvanizing thousands with lyrical incompetency,
I let my hooks do the talkin
And my misogyny do the walkin
I learned to appeal to the mainstream
Lining my pockets off of societies mental deprivation
Dumbin down to my audience to double my dollars  
This isnt what I wanted
But its everything that I asked for.
I was so far from home that it would take me years
Just to journey back halfway.
They say home is where the heart is
But I left my heart in the rhythm and poetry
I used to recite so eloquently and intellectually,
It made you think on a deeper plane
Using complex metaphors and vivid diction
To take your mind places you never thought of reaching before,
It was that allure
That captivated and entrapped like aphrodisia
It was the perplexing paragraphs that could be deciphered two ways,
It was the years it took to perfect an immaculate craft
The thoughts and feelings I kept deep inside
When my mouth had no way with words
And my tongue refused to speak,
When poetry found me ,
A lost child desperately searching for some guidance,
I was naked before poetry clothed me with understanding
While simultaneously stripping me of my trepidation .
I realized I gave up too much
For too little...
And it changed me.
For the worse.
And the only way to make it better,
Is for you to come home.
Because poetry,
There aint no sunshine when your gone,
Just darkness everyday
Anytime you go away.
And I say all that to say,
That I was foolish for refusing you,
When you called to me,
At the pinnacle of my ignorance...
I gained the world only to lose my soul,
I now know that wisdom will always be better
Than silver and gold.

POETRY: Erotica by Reggie Drake

The streets precipitate eroticism...
And I have no raincoat.
These dank alleyways hide hunger
And, doors are sealed shut to keep poverty from seepin in.
I stumble with every step
This shade hazes the view inside my retinal
But I'm amused when I smell the aphrodisiac
Left from this residue,
The trail of lust is crystal clear,
Dirty underwear and Bras,
The smell of cheap perfume is faint,
But it escapes outside these double doors.
Overhead,
Neon signs flash,
"Open all night,
Free until 12
Please step inside temptation"
So I walk in
To find this,
Pretty Young thang devour me with her eyes,
She takes a sip of the sizzurp
Her finger fingers the glass,
She hands me a drink,
The drink makes me gag.
Shxt starts gettin fuzzy
She laughs like somethings funny
Then I see the sky fall
And it shatters into fragments
My body starts to drop,
I clutch the countertop,
But I cant help the feeling
That i feel like Im falling
Falling
Falling
Falling
As i fall,
On top of the bed
Her body in close proximity
She holds me in her hand
As she takes it to the head
I feel outta sync
My mind is outta my body
But im aroused by the sensual touch
She makes me lust,
Her powers of temptation are a mystery
I swear shes a goddess,
As she whispers "I love mortals"
There's hunger in her voice
And she treasures me as a morsel.
The libido of the streets sneak inside of my home,
I ponder the phrase, "The world is so cold"
Wish I could close my windows,
I shudder cuz i cant shut my shutters
So I proceed to,
Shut her inside the frame of mind where,
The heat of our passion keeps us warm.
We lie in silence idle,
Till she says, "Im sorry I had to drug you"
I utter drunkenly, "And I'm sorry I had to love you"
She stands,
Puts on her robe,
Its sexy red then she says,
"This is a one night stand, please understand"....
Explosions.
My mountain of lust crumbles into tiny microscopic pieces
Mutilating my ego,
I ponder the rationale behind these midnight confessions...
I guess temptation just aint a road for pedestrian highways
I wish she could feel my pain but pain does not richochet.
She turns,
Proceeds to blow me a kiss
Then leaves,
I feel sick
I flee, to comfort zones where I'm free to judge then dismiss,
This place,
Where she was God and i was merely her plaything
Spellbound by her beauty
Trapped by wicked erotica
Now, I am alone with my thoughts.
My bed is so lonely
Its crowded with the clutter of me
These tainted sheets just arent as snug
Seduction is one hell of a drug
The addiction is unbreakable
I crave its sensual properties
it has me tripping
Simple shxt is gettin tricky
Those reds are lookin like blues
The cataclysm of my thoughts is all,
Because of you.
Or maybe its not you,
But me .
For thinking that lust could give me that,
"You thinking of me thinking of you" type love
Instead of that,
"Sexy seduction take off your dress" type love.
I want a love where I can close my eyes and imagine
How a love so good could hurt so much when shes not there,
I want a love like back in high school,
Spending hours on the phone not saying shxt then fall asleep
And wake up to her breathing in the phone type love.
Is that too much too ask??
And check this,
Even on my deathbed I wanna be able to tell me grandchildren
Stories about how we first fell in love,
Listening to, "The closer I get to you"
The smooth crooning of Flack & Hathaway
Eloquently advertising our love's synopsis.
Who needs sexy
When you can have beautiful.
Who needs that pretty lady at the bar
When you can have an angel.
These streets are filled with freaks,
Exotic legs, lustful lips, ravenous thighs
Dangerous eyes that ensnare,
So we desire unaware of their ways .
Desperately seeking temporary release,
In exchange we commit silent sacrifices.
These bon voyages after rendezvous
Dont equate to, "I love you's".
But I guess we all don't want that, "real" type love.
Some are comfortable
With lovely nights,
And lonely days.

POETRY: The Poet by Reggie Drake

Sometimes I think,
I was born to write poetry.
Because ever since I could remember these,
Miracle hands could forge the signature of the sun
With startling simplicity
My mouth,
Is a metaphor for beauty personified
Because every time my lips part
The heavens split apart,
And angels sing hymns about my elaborate recitations.
On starry nights I had midnight dreams.
About sharing thoughts with William Yeats or,
Writing haiku's with Soseki,
My name firmly implanted in the pale fire of time that burns brighter
With the mere touch of my, lyrical lighter.
But apparently I'm delusional.
For thinking I can sit atop a pantheon of greatness
That immortalizes illuminaries with such ardor,
Who's to say that these, beautiful thoughts
Cant transcend the universe and speak wisdom to the moon,
The silent melody these, psychedelic rhymes insight in my mind
Continuously weave intricate patterns
i dance with the stars to a stellar choreography.
Why cant my message be just as an important as theirs??
Why cant I be great??
The greatest poets of our generation haven't been born yet,
Because they are still waiting for the past to die,
We cant surpass our predecessors because contemporaries continuously
Place them on pedestals where only 40 inch verticals can reach,
They say, I am a poet.
But my title must be counterfeit
Since its become taboo to compare yourself to legends
But who were the greats before the greats became great?
There was only us,
The lone poets who use this medium as a way to escape,
A way to organize the books of our numberless dreams into an
Encyclopedia set ranging from A-infinity,
We,
As poets,
Are infinitesimal compared to the machinations that gyrate the galaxy and operate the cosmos,
Yet we, cosmetically modify the countenance
Using tactful strokes to alter its makeup
We, change the world with our words
So when did WE
Become Robert Frost.
When did WE,
Become Edgar Allan Poe.
Before Neruda there was
You & Me,
Before Soto
There was Her & He & We
But They,
Undermine, what We do,
But its cool,
Cuz im hip to the game,
Hip to the science of psychology
They utilize to,
Destabilize our frame of mind.
I used to think I wasn't good enough.
I used to think,
I was born to write poetry.
Now i know,
I was born,
To speak to the world without reciting an utterance,
Because these words,
Are enough to paint images so vivid
Da Vinci couldn't picture them any different.
I was born,
To speak wisdom to these non believers until they repent
And be drowned in the blood of Jesus
I was born with the Trinity;
Pen, Pad, and knowledge
Baptized in Creativity
Prayed for Ingenuity
To which God is my supplier there aint nobody higher
Success is not found in the gifts God gives you
It lies in its use and what you choose to do with it,
We are contemporary,
Dont let history make us temporary
I will never die because
My lifespan expands,
Exponentially.
Even if im no longer here physically.
Because my life is in my poetry,
My message is holy treasure
And my soul is a chest,
Unlocked by the key
And the key,
Is understanding.
This gold spreads to the world
My name instilled in the currency
So the same ones that doubted are the same ones that remember me
My poems are like,
Michelangelo painted a portrait of Maya Angelou
And gave it to a sick poet,
For his antidote.
And his disease being eternity
Wheres the fun in forever
If Forever breeds animosity
Goodbye Dead Poets.
We are still stuck behind the silky silhouettes of the past
Let our interstellar sonnets sonic boom to the moon,
Whispering in its ear to shine a light so bright
It will dissipate the shadows,
And pave a way for the future progenitors
We are the new genesis
So poets can your poltergeist please
Exodus (exit us).
Ive had enough.
Because I know,
I was destined for greatness,
I know WE
Are destined for greatness.
So lets start a renaissance,
Last Poets,
The revolution
Has come














They

POETRY: 'The Ripple' by Kabriel Moorehead

The Ripple
by Kabriel Moorehead

I fill my lungs with air and allow them to depress slowly
Hoping that this calming rhythm will ease my anxiety over picking up the pen
And returning to the craft
The love of my life which gave this name meaning
In my mind my name glimmered in lights set on the cavernous stages of Broadway
Every time my lips graced the Mic
The palpitations of my heart were tangible,
Visibly furious as if my chest was a cage
That held a vigilant, thumping lion in against its will
There were no shakes in my limbs when I performed
My body was frozen as the world did somersaults around me
And yet through all of this,
As my mind was racing at super sonic speeds
Worrying that the speed of light was the only acceptable velocity
To accomplish my primary mission
Of spreading my thoughts to the world
Whether they were valued or not made no difference
The only thing that mattered was the ripple I had created
To know that even for a solitary moment
I had impacted the thought process of another being was priceless
And sent my world of constant chaotic motion
Back into a restful state
Once the show was over and my mind had receded into the doldrums
I would return home as a conqueror,
Having won over the hearts of any mind that cared to listen
It's been a long time since those days,
And my hands have nearly forgotten how to keep up with the break neck pace of my mind
As I scribble these words with this pen
The soothing breathing pattern is no longer necessary now
Because there's no doubt in my mind with all the things I've accomplished
That those ripples I created are not just fantasies of long gone moments
And could be started again

Copyright 2013| Kabriel Moorehead