The humility in my arms raised high towards the sky; I can instantly feel the goodness in my stretch;
Birds are chirping and flying in the breeze with the easiest of ease, a flight with them I dream to catch;
Cumulus clouds floating up high in the distance;
Visually calming, despite the hassles below, men I look up to hopelessly moving around probably on their 9th cloud without much to say, wrapped up in an oppressed ghettoized joint, going up in smoke with a relaxed high, grouped together in a strategic fog to fight against that man’s resistance;
My young open-mind appears to be free after reciting tis of thee, but I really can’t relate to sweet land of liberty, because I don’t know what that means, I can see tops of trees swaying with the key of life resonating between my ears in a low but steady pitch, I can hear the beauty in the sounds of nature’s hiss;
The smell of honey suckle floats through the air and the warmth of the sun’s rays dancing on my face takes me away to the good old days when I’m at play;
I’m far removed from my project existence by taking a short trip into the hazardous bush of trees and shrubs out back of my mother’s third floor coop apartment, I sit all day and say, someone please take me away from this place of chaos and disarray;
I am so fed up of being repeatedly exposed to the numbness of remorseless dumbness, pain sticks to me closely, like the funky armpits of my shadow on a hot and muggy day;
Faintly visible but always present, I fear not the light of day for my companion gives me hope in his silent appearance, besides he lets me know I’m OK, he also tells me when I should run away;
Often, I’m reminded in my escape of a very familiar place where the only image of real is to deal with the insanity of my run through strict codes of silence;
Keep that shit to yourself yo, everybody in the bricks got problems, generations of dysfunctional family traits EXPRESSED THROUGH THE CHILDREN, sturdy limbs of family trees broken a long time ago, you can still smell the stench in the hallways of strange fruit hanging on that man’s dream, and once the body falls to the ground, they just leave it there, they don’t care;
Ain't a damn thing around here fair, therefore; I’m torn in my share, and the only thing they can say, “you need professional help”, and that man can instantly see the seriousness of my problem in the cry of my blank unresponsive stare;
Hold up, wait a minute, you’re buggin, you need to take a trip back to that quiet place, Yeah, maybe you’re right, I can take it there and just like that, I’M BACK! With two hands on my shoulders with my head going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in a cruel violent shake reminding me of the hardships of being raised by a very young, single black woman overshadowed by the darkness of the system with three children to feed and ultimately responsible for in their safety and welfare, CAN I SHARE!
Do you really want me to take you there?
Silence is golden, don’t say a word and there won’t be any trouble, and if you don’t do what I say,
FEEL THE PAIN OF THE SMACK TRAVEL FROM THE FRONT TO THE BACK OF YOUR MOUTH!;
Respectful gains obtained through expressions of tough love, and if that doesn’t work,
FEEL THE PAIN OF THE SMACK TRAVEL FROM THE FRONT TO THE BACK OF YOUR MOUTH!;
And if I have to repeat myself again,
I’M GOING TO SMACK THE BLACK OFF YOUR FACE AND YOUR ASS IS NEXT!;
I try to make sense out of it all but the more I try the harder I fall, Its simple if you just look up your tree and get out your head, this shit is not complex;
Hard lessons learned at such an early age, what’s up shorty?
Damn man, every time I try to catch that flight with those birds out back my arms get shorter and shorter;
I just want to get out of this box, I just want to get off this block, Hey boy, you look tense, need to learn the ways of the world with a hardened skin, sit out back too long and you should only expect a cold order;
So I put myself out there to learn to read a person’s eyes and expose the true nature of the beast;
America eats it’s young, sing the damn song to expose the lyric, fight the powers that be with your mental, physical, and spirit, slow down the frenzy of their feast;
Mama tried to do the best she could to raise you out of the hood, my road to redemption slowly approaching as I run along the horizon, deliverance in my mind and in sight, but you know what? I’m still runnin, trying to catch that damn flight.
Troy Balkum©
Written 05/23/2009
Monday, February 8, 2010
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