I AM

I am who I am because I am,

I do not compete I dominate,

Never out of the fight never loose aim,

Those who stand in my way I eliminate.

I accept that I'm expected to fail,

but my heart is stronger than my bones,

and my mind will carry my body past any ail.

Though I may stumble over these stones,
I refuse to fall. I'll never acknowledge defeat,
because I believe where others succumb.
Belief will carry me through when my feet
cannot carry on. I'll conquer anything I'll come
across. I am not a champion because of victory.
I'm a champion because of the hunger inside,
I'm a champion because I know I am. History
will remember my name. Some call it pride,
because they do not understand me. But I seek
not validation, no mortals will define me. I will
write my own praises. Today is the day I speak
into existence my success not tomorrow. I will
gladly die on my field of battle. I refuse to understand
defeat or surrender, neither will I let my comrades down.
I'll pluck the heart of their enemies with my hand,
I am who I am and I do not need a crown.
I will show you how great I AM.

HOUSE ON THE LEFT

How long shall we follow trails of their bread crumbs
to their turkey stuffed tables and not be invited to eat?.
We're too content with the aroma that numbs
our stifled hunger. Here we're stepping on each others feet
just to have a peek. We have helped build this house,
now they want to build a wall around it to keep us out.

They're some of us on the guest list. Perhaps that's why
things have never changed. They're some who have been
inside, indulged at their tables and have turned a blind eye.
Now they come out here with bloated bellies and toned skin,
loyal only to their greed. We have helped build this house,
how long shall we stand outside while they keep us out.

CARPE DIEM

I'm going through life as if I was walking through a cemetery,
If these cold winds will not blow me away,
I'm sure the dead will eventually pull me in,
My skin has been overgrown by rhytides,
Just like these graves have been overgrown by wild grass,
This metamorphosis has ensconced itself where my youth used to be,
I know the vulture lurks his shadow levitates impatiently,
I am at his mercy but I have much to realize still,
I've dragged through a cenotaph once,
Strange it seems for once I was at peace,
I can feel the heart of the mausoleum beating through the soles of my feet,
The voices of those gone before me palpitating through my veins,
I've found life in the presence of the dead,
But I cannot speak their tongue to ask for directions,
Well perhaps these are just phantoms in my head,
The night through the cemetery of life is like days,
I'm left in trepidation of the rising sun,
If only I could find my shadow and unearth myself,

LAND OF THE FREE

In the land of the free we still identify ourselves as "N****S",
For diamonds and gold chains my brothers sell the slur,
We've forgotten who we are and accept the slanderer's mirage of ourselves,
Blurred from the truth because of ignorance we're sold to mental slavery,
And its the blood of the Trayvon Martins on these concrete pavements,
Our history is made a mockery of and auctioned through Hollywood,
Stolen legacies and altered history books to brainwash naked minds,
But who cares for a generation of erasable people in the land of the free,
Too many of us are slumbering to the American Dream,
There's not enough of us awoken to the American Reality,
Under the auspices of the wealthy they're still taking land from the indigenous,
The distorted ideologies that have formed systems of control,
They say it's in our veins to be violent and hate ourselves,
Forgetting we were conceived in the night from the semen of the slave master,
Now bastards stripped of an identity still carrying the Massa's last name,
The system is a set-up, they handout welfare to keep us dependent,
Centuries of taxation yet the politicians talk about government debt,
Land of the free built on scares on the backs of undocumented laborers,
They say this is the past but it isn't because we're still getting manipulated,
Over 300 years of slavery yet we are still dying because we "fit the description",
Blood soaked spectacles for their entertainment by uniformed gladiators,
Whose occupation is valued more than the lives they sworn to protect,
When we rise up and stick our heads out for some air of respect,
Our voices are smothered from within us like Eric Garner,
And we're expected to seek justice from a prejudiced jury,
The verdict was passed before the trial, guilty and black as charged,
The law was never written to have us acquitted in the land of the free,
So they imprison us to their religion and schools to condition our acceptance,
We can never be truly free until a generation of consciousness rises,
And the education that we receive imparts self awareness,
Because the greatest crime in the land of the free is mental genocide,