You don’t get to tell me That I am not who I am You will never know me If you are using you As a frame of reference You haven’t been through what I’ve been through Held what I am holding Grace in physical form Giving better than what I was given Because I believe in a myth that I need to be true Forgive them for they know not what they do I want to be like you Remembering even in the face of violence This is my body I choose how it feels Regardless of others’ projections Regardless of their rejection With or without protection This is my body I will be who I will to be Because no one knows this body but me And those with whom I choose to share it Becoming One This is our body These are our bodies Broken for each other By one another Healed by the Lover Now we are One Body No longer broken Life created by Words spoken My body is your body Your body is my body Every Body and No Body Can be Any Body When we break But don’t shatter Resurrect by Mind over matter Choose the Former over the latter Being made in the image of the One Body Who births all bodies Time and time again
This poem will be featured at the event below. Click on the link below to learn more about the other poets. And if you are local to Boulder County, CO and want to join us, you can RSVP by going to this link.
There’s a war happening There’s a war happening In the Artist’s heart in All Ways There’s a War Happening War of the worlds War inside Collateral damage Even if no one dies There’s an internal battle When a baby cries Hunger and no food Creates a world of lies Open your eyes It’s not just me that’s singing It’s an entire Universe Of controlled screaming Destroying ourselves Just to find meaning I defy meaning With my dreaming Because there’s a war happening There’s a war happening In the Artist’s heart in All Ways There’s a War Happening Artists exist To control the chaos But the irony is They don’t want to pay us When tyranny comes First thing they do is take us But we just keep creating As they all forsake us We’re springs of creation They cannot remake us Transmitting love To even those who hate us There’s no argument They cannot debate us Proof of God’s Love Is that God creates us We just surrendered to the fact That we can’t create ourselves Then miraculously We can create ourselves Given the authority To transform our hells These prison walls Are no more our cells Our presence is the secret That no one tells The holes in our hearts Have become our wells And it’s from these wells That your soul’s drinking Thoughts become things So we’re not thinking We live by inspiration We only move when still Translating silence To express our will Channeling frustrations So the truth’s revealed And we’ll keep on creating Until the world is healed
In an upcoming article for the People Are Not Things Linkedin Newsletter, in reflection on a training I was just a part of in DC, I will examine the role art plays in creating new models for human compatibility and flourishing even in the face what could appear to be imminent institutional collapse. In addition to the folks present at the convening, I was inspired by Asha Romeo (https://www.asharomeo.com/) to write this piece and use AI to create this image. Asha sang the hook on my rap single, Take This Life (Make It Light) and sang for several services when I was a pastor to include the final song on my last Sunday. She is a singular talent with amazing musical range. She will soon be relocating from our neighborhood to LA to pursue her music career.
When I thought about her journey as a child from a small town named Gondar in Ethiopia to Boulder, CO and how because of that journey this community has been filled with music that would have not otherwise been here, I realized something about art that I had never considered before. Artist transmute chaos into culture. Even when I think of my own artistic expressions, I know them to be the result of wrestling with a lifetime of polarizing tensions that through inner struggle show up in the word as–at least semi-coherent–expressions of the underlying harmony that I believe turns potential danger into a potent dance with what could be considered conflicting loyalties.
Mindful of this, in this poem, I wanted to celebrate what she and other artists bring to our spaces by bending chaos to their creative will. Without them, where would we be? And more than that, I want to encourage each of us to tap into the artist that lives in each of us. I hypothesize that much of the challenges that we are experiencing in many of our social landscapes is because of unmetabolized traumatic experiences that work themselves out in our interactions with others on every level from interpersonal to international. But, it doesn’t have to be that way. With artistry, we can choose to create systems that works better for more people.
I’m one of the richest people in the world There’s nothing I can’t afford Whatever I want I, I instantly have So there’s never a need to horde I never have to strive Nor do I ever have to wait I command whatever I need to be Without a moment to hesitate If I think of a thing I have it Completely skipping the passage of time I’m presented with gifts before I ask As if the Universe reads my mind Now that’s what I call abundance All the favor without the fuss No need to be ostentatious When my currency is trust But as soon as I start my doubting All of my abundance disappears Then suddenly I’m falling short again And living out my fears That’s how it is with this thing called money It’s the agreement that we made Speak the language that it speaks Or live silently as a slave Sadly, many of us chose the latter Thinking money is something real When it’s actually just a symbol Of how a group of people feel It has no intrinsic value No one can measure what it’s worth But we treat it as if it’s life itself When in fact it is its dearth We forget that money is simply a screen Onto which we project desires The only power it can ever have Being to assuage our consuming fires But that is only temporary That’s why we’re always wanting more Separating abundance from our existence In exchange for keeping score It’s a game I never want to play I want everyone as rich as me Because when abundance is reality Everyone is free But money will not allow it It goes against the calculation That needs some to be the richest ones And the rest in desperation
I despise the fact that you make me necessary And yet I love you because I’m here But I am pained by watching you on your path Knowing I’m powerless to interfere In your weakness I find my strength Though it is the last thing on my mind Your emptiness gives me a place to fill But this too will end with time In this place we are often seen as enemies In Truth, together we express the One Because you’re insecure, I must show I’m not Just as darkness creates a need for Sun You are my partner that I cannot work with Bound together by what keeps us apart Although we’ll never occupy each other’s space We’ve been together from the start.
In an ocean of sound I lose myself In the cacophony of my Silence My mind is lost among the many more And it feels like I’ll never find it I’ve been me so long that I was convinced That my reality can’t be threatened But all this noise has choked my joys Making the Voice inside seem deafened I forgot what it was I was thinking When your words invaded my space Now whatever it was has slipped my mind And I have completely lost my place I know many people are fine with this They accept the status quo “Don’t question the narrative written for you Because that’s the way it goes” But for as long as I can remember I’ve just been the way that I’m created Seeing only the good in all I can So that my soul is elevated Of course at times I do get tempted These illusions can be convincing People weaving temporal spells With the words that they are mincing I start wondering if I’m too stubborn Maybe I should play the role Let the conformers off the hook And do what I am told Then suddenly it hits me I have no right to disappear Being me is all I can be It’s the very reason why I’m here
You can call me a Galaxy For I’m composed of worlds With as many thoughts as stars in the sky Meanwhile consciousness comets hurl Every moment is filled with wonder There’s no such thing as norm My changing mind is supernova I concentrate and planets form From my dreams I project species More strange than what’s imagined Unconsciously combining elements From the stuff which All is fashioned But at some point I got distracted I lost track of my creations I gave them a mind just like my own And they divided into Nations Instead of seeing with eyes of awe As I imagined them to be They sought to control their neighbor’s lives Before turning their sights on me They wanted my approval They wanted my command But when I refused to play their game They then let go of my hand It was as if I never existed As they projected onto me Illusions of a divided state The very opposite of what is free I wondered how this happened Them thinking thoughts I cannot think Casting shadows where there is only light Descending where love could never sink But instead of anger I felt compassion Because I knew I was their cause So in an effort to guide them back to love I gifted them with Laws But because they came from freedom Laws felt like a type of prison They failed at loving and living law And got trapped in indecision Incapable of escaping The prison that they made I decided to be a prisoner too For surrender’s key unlocks the cage So when they saw I was escaping From what was never meant to be The Galaxy folded in upon itself And all that ever was is me
What if bullets are just proxy tears For people afraid of crying Expressing emotions they can’t control That result in other people dying What if bombs are actually heart attacks Of those too tender to unload That finally when it all comes out They cause a radius to explode What if nukes are really suicide For people scared to die Who threaten to destroy the entire world Rather than face what they can’t hide That they’re secure in insecurity Spreading the virus of toxic shame Because they’re drowning within finitudes Of all they stole to gain
Image by 愚木混株 on Unsplash.com
Caveat: I know that this line of questioning and poetry may bother some people. That is not my intent. If you know me, you can trust me on that. And check in if it is really charging you. If you don’t, I hope you have a support system that can serve you.
I can’t stop thinking about Chadwick Boseman. He’s been on my mind so much that I caught myself shaking my head in the gym on the edge of tears. Now if you know me, you know that this isn’t characteristic of me. So, I had to examine why I was taking this so hard. Even before he died, I would find myself googling about his health. Like many people, I saw him getting thinner and would find myself concerned about him. I too hoped that the weight loss was due to him thinning up for a movie role. It had been announced, around the time that he started coming into public noticeably thinner, that he was going to play the first and only Black Samurai, Yasuke, who served under Japanese warlord Oda Nobunaga in 16th century Japan. Once again, he was going to take on the role of one of the “First Blacks to…” just as he had with James Brown, Thurgood Marshall, and Jackie Robinson. So I hoped that his gaunt appearance was going to reveal itself to be indicative of his passion for his craft and the calling on his life to bring powerful characters into the consciousness of people who for so long had very few symbols to hold on to.
Thank you for being a King in this life—for challenging our imaginations and giving us an aspirational symbol. I know many people will think that you were “just an actor”. But for those of us who never grew up with superheroes who looked like us and saw ourselves portrayed in a negative light, you made an indelible mark and shined eternally bright. #restinwakandaforever
My Instagram post August 30, 2020
I don’t say this much out loud. But I often feel lonely. Part of this loneliness comes from the fact that I don’t have many living role models before me who can relate to my background or life’s experiences. Everyday, I try, in my small way, to live up to an ideal that I have never actually witnessed being displayed up close. And I do it knowing that I live in a world that, whether people will admit it or not, is always waiting for me to fail. And not just me. If I extrapolate from the conversations I’ve had over my lifetime, almost everyone who is veiled in Black skin in this country carries this burden either consciously or unconsciously. Though many people are in denial about it, if you’re paying attention as a Black person, you know. And others know it too. If we fail, we take so many other people down with us. Because to be Black here is to be a symbol. And as a symbol, you always represent much more than yourself. Whereas, if some other people fail, they are simply seen as an individual–often deserving of second, third, fourth, and fifth chances.
When you are a symbol, society tries to make you an exception when you achieve in any capacity simply because the underlying belief is that most of us are incapable of meeting the illusory standards of this country. That’s why I think our ascendance, however small, is watched very closely. I believe that this is because, every step that any of us climbs, undoes the structure of the painfully comfortable false narrative that was built upon the foundation of our supposed inferiority. In other words, when Black people do well, especially in arenas where we are not always lauded, it tears at the fabric of this nation’s institutional myth about the capacities of American Blackness that almost everyone has bought into–even many Black folks. What if we were always this talented; this intelligent; this powerful? What does that say about how our ancestors were treated? What does it say about those of us who succumbed to the lies told about us? Does the past become even more tragic if we consider that we all had Wakandan like potential that was virtually strangled out of us for centuries? The questions are almost too much to contemplate.
By simply being who he was and living into his moment, Chadwick embodied that potential. His nature was regal. And in his person he carried the spirits of many of our ancestors. Perhaps that is why he was called here to embody them for us in the enduring form of film. He showed us our past and our future. He changed our world. And then he left.
In my work, I have seen many people die. I have watched as the light leaves their bodies and often wondered if they illumined every place they came here to shine in. I suspect that most haven’t. And that’s why there is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about when my day will come. But I am not afraid of death. Ever since I became aware of the expectation that, as a Black Man in America, I would either die or spend some time in the criminal justice system by 18, I have contemplated my death. So no, I am not afraid of death at all. What gets to me is the idea that I will not do all that I can with this life because I will have allowed myself to be overly weighed down by the loneliness of being the first or the only. As they say, I don’t want to die with my music still in me. I want to truly live while I am here. And the truth is that I can’t say that I’ve done that yet. So perhaps that is part of why I can’t stop thinking about Chadwick Boseman.
Consider what he accomplished in the 4 years that he was diagnosed and being treated for colon cancer. Can you imagine? And consider that he did all of this while keeping his diagnosis to himself. Talk about lonely. But I don’t think he kept it to himself for himself. I think he did it for all us who know what it’s like to be the first or the only. In a consumer driven world where illness is seen as just another failure, he commanded his body and the world it inhabited to conform to his ideal. And in so doing, he tore that mythical fabric of Black inferiority that much more.
Of course, it is sad that he was not able to share his struggles with the world and receive the wellspring of compassion that he would have likely received and perhaps lived longer. But he was Black before he was The Black Panther. So I can imagine that he didn’t think he would get a second chance. So he did everything he could with the chance he got knowing that just like when one of us goes down we inadvertently take others with us, when we ascend, we take others with us as well. And that’s why I can say unequivocally that though this man had no earthly crown, he was and always will be a king. And at least for me, his being brings about a sense of conviction that before I die, I must make contact with my own regality and do everything I can to encourage it in others.
A Poem Fit for a King (In Memory of Chadwick Boseman) I’ll see you on the Other Side But I still can see you now In the ways you changed the atmosphere And by your essence you showed us how
We can’t believe that you are gone And yet you’re here now more than ever Giving form to a future and a past We salute you now and forever
Now that your form is no longer with us We see the burden that was in your eyes You held the Space just long enough To show that One who is Living never dies
Someday we all will meet you In the azure canopied ancestral plains Where everyone is a queen and king In the Place where Spirit reigns.
I have learned to Love you In a way that you can see That gives to you what you think you need Without betraying me
I have chosen the Cross of Compassion But I don’t see it as a burden It is a gift to give what I receive When I am the one who’s hurting
Even though you still don’t know me I no longer imagine that you should I see that we see the way we see And that in every way there’s good.
Isn’t it strange that it’s so perfect That we will never get it “right” But in the spaces between your side and mine There is an emergence of the Light
Now I’m no longer who I used to be Once I accepted that we can’t change This frees us all to be ourselves In the space of gift exchange
Now I love you like no other Because now there is no other one Born again as who I’ve always been From the moment being had begun
I’m sorry I apologized When I was just being me I was just a slave Who falsely thought I was free
But now that I’m seeing more clearly This is what I meant to say Kiss my grits And get the H-E double hockey stick out my way
I think you get my point Without me going to extremes I could say it a little harder But it wouldn’t change an ounce of what it means
Besides if my dead grandmother were here And heard me talk to you like that She’d slap the taste right out my mouth And give all my apologies back
See, the worst things in life are often inherited Taught to fear in the name of survival Illusions of superiority Cloaked in the excuse that we’re all tribal
We say those before us committed the crimes But we choose to pay the price So when we accept the earnings of an unjust cause The effect is our souls being sacrificed
It's All In Me - Poetry Blog 