When now became past
And present became back then
When I went from a Sony Walkman to an iPod
When responsibilities didn’t exist
And time was actually by my side and not behind me
When it didn’t matter who I trusted
When I still had fate in US
Before US became me
When your disparity was my own
(I wrote this the summer before I went to College)
College is supposed to b where I grab an education.
But who would think I would b going into a land so far away its tucked behind the devil’s asshole.
In the bushlands of Central PA I will no longer b one of many negro in my class, I will b the onli negro.
I wont b able to hear the screech of the buses that need new brakes
I’ll miss the YO MA’s and the HEY BEAUTIFUL’s
I wont c condoms hangin out under the park bench or hookers working their shit on the corner.
The smell of curry when I go to little Guyana will no longer b there
Neither will the smell of fish when I head into China Town.
The dark haired Italians will no longer b flipping pizzas in the corner pizza shop
My Puerto Rican pappis will no longer b playin dominos while sitting on crates, singing bachata songs and smoking Cuban cigars.
No longer will I pass the hustlers on the corner TRYINA MAKE A DOLLA OUTTA 15 CENTES.
I’ll miss the sistahs on the corner that duke it out ova some bullshit
I miss the phone wires that are draped in sneakers that carry the flags of gang that mark their territory.
Or the n***s that stand on the corner and hug the block with all their n****s. The ones dat are out there through rain, sleet, snow, n any weather.
Or the dudes that ride around on bikes that are 5 sizes to small for their tall asses
I’ll miss the sitting in a venue for a poetry slam listing to the flavor of the souls of the people of my city.
The people that talk about tuff love, the hate, the greed, the anger, the fury and the envy.
The ones that flow about their first loves, the ones they love, or the ones they hope to love.
I wont hear the accents of the different ppl that make up my city, NEW YORK CITY.
Da Punjab that asks u where 2, or the china man dat asks u if u want pork fried rice wit that.
The Jamaican who tells u to Scooby Doo or the Dominican who hooks you up and makes ur hair looks nice.
Where Im going, is not my comfort zone… this is a place where WAT UP MY N***A will become offensive
And the closest thing I will have to the city is a small town that gets excited over a new Walmart.
The latest fashions will no longer b brought on Jamaica Avenue for half the price.
They will b bought in malls where white ppl roam the aisles.
My hair won’t b done by the Dominican, they will b done by a roommate (hopefully someone wit skills).
No one will care about the types of exclusive sneakers I’ll b rocking or the sexy cut in the new jeans I got, or how PHAT MY ASS LOOKS IN DEM JEANS.
I will b in a world so utterly different I will b lost hopefully to b found again. Because There will b no signs to point me in the right direction and tell me its time to move on and explore, to grow, and mature.
As long as I listen to 2pac, Im sure I’ll b just fine,
“IVE GOTTA KEEP MY HEAD UP, LEGS CLOSED , AND EYES OPEN .. N I’LL B JUST FINE”
(I probably wrote this in 2004/5, somewhere around junior year of HS)
There is a girls, standing on the corner…
Wat u think you know the rest, NO… u don’t
This girl… no this girl is similar yet different
She’s got the mind of a child, the mentality of an infant and what she believes to be the body of an older woman
She thinks that she is a woman, therefore she believes that she is a grown ass woman
She walks the block with mini skirts and jeans that are so tight that they appear to be painted on.
She rocks shirts that reveal a little too much of the little she has. She leaves little to the imagination.
She’s encouraged to be the “woman” that she is by the niggas that hug the block block with all their niggas.
Psst Psst… Yo ma… wats really good ma, they call, and make her feel grown.
Wats ur name ma ? Insecure ma ? That’s a beautiful name ma.
What she doesn’t know is that to them… she not beautiful for the right reasons. She’s beautiful for the being underneath her clothing not the being beneath her soul.
Matter of fact they don’t even know nor do they care that she has a soul
She struggles to be all that she can to the men that HUG THE BLOCK BLOCK WITH ALL THEIR NIGGAS
She sleeps with them in hopes that they will love her… some day… one day.
She thinks that she is in love… because of the fool who tells her she is his everything
Baby u know I love u, he says…you’ll always be my baby she swoons…
Little does she know that if tragedy were to strike, 9 months later, she would no longer have him as her baby because she would have one of her own, n he would no longer love her
Sadly, she don’t
She thrives off men that chill on the corner, she thrives off of the men that thrive off of her ignorance and immaturity.
But maybe if there was someone to talk to that girl and guide her off of that corner… maybe if there was someone to tell her of all that she doesn’t know and all that she thinks she knows … maybe this little girl… that girl on the corner… would know…
Essentially, that girl that walks that block with mini skirts, jeans that appear to be painted on, and shirts that reveal a little too much of the little she has…
is all alone
Hey ma, haven’t been around in a long time
Where have ya been? Haven’t seen you in a long while.
You been missin the most important parts of life, just thought I’d fill u in.
I had my 17th birthday a couple weeks ago and I was just hoping you would be able to come.
I don’t want any presents, nothing at all, just want to see your beautiful face.
And I was wondering if you tell dad somethin,
Cuz he’s getting on my last nerves!
Hey ma I cant remember the last time I had a conversation with you,
Cuz every time I had something to say you just couldn’t hear me,
When I wanted your motherly advice, you didn’t give me any.
You weren’t there to hear about my first kiss,
You weren’t there to hear about the first asshole who broke my heart,
You weren’t there when I wanted to ask you, how do I know he’s the one?
Hey ma haven’t been around in a long time,
Been missin you lately.
I just got my fist college acceptance letter, I was excited,
Turned around to tell you, to hug you and squeeze you and… yet again you weren’t there.
Hey ma, I can remember the last time I saw your face,
You just didn’t look the same, maybe its because I’ve never seen you look that way,
With all that make-up that made you look different.
I remember you were laying in a casket… and I went to kiss you but you didn’t respond, you didn’t even flinch.
Hey ma, I was just wondering if you missed me as much as I miss you,
Or if you even care as much as I do,
You know wat? I have a lot of animosity towards you.
I just wanted to tell u…
I just wanted to tell you that I HATE YOU
For not being there every time I needed you
But, I wanted to tell you that I FORGIVE you
Because I know that If you were here and you had the ability to, you would come each and every time I called your name
I also wanted to tell you that I LOVE YOU because you put breath into my body, and you gave me life.
I LOVE YOU because you are a piece of me and you are my world, regardless of what world your in.