My Voice In Ink
(Lyrics and poems)
composed and created
By: Michael Anthony Reyes Benavides 


Apocalyptic Dream

My thought patterns are mad versatile
I was born a prophet prodigy child
From the planet of many styles
It was there that I experienced
My epiphany, my awakening
To the things unseen
The Creator of all things
Came to me in a dream
Hit my soul with a heavenly beam
And I stood a new being
We sat and had a conversation
She told me “my son open your mind to the book of Revelation
There will be two great nations
One power will not appreciate the differences of my creations
There will be many spoken contradictions
Human on human afflictions
Evils caused by man’s addictions
There will be fear of the end of civilization
A unit that can relay messages to every .com, TV, and radio station
And one of the two great nations
Will succumb to the other’s visualization
Of how my world should be”
I yelled out, “LORD, WHAT CAN I DO TO
DESTROY THESE EVILS BEFORE ME?”
She replied, “Hush my child there is more to my prophecy,
Many will claim to be me
Children will be
Slaves and labor for free
Humanity
Will ignore the cries of poverty
And they will say ‘One Nation Under God’,
Only everyone won’t see it that way
The world will have to worry about
Nuclear war, acid rain, and the sky turning gray
The daily pounding of violence and urban decay
Whole peoples will kneel and pray
While others will inhale cancer
Never to place death upon the ash tray
Babies will be conceived and killed on the same day
Children will play
Oblivious to racism but they won’t stay
That way
Soon they will be infected by man’s society
Religious theology, political policy and sly-cology.”
I fell to my knees and said,
“O LORD, O LORD,
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, TELL ME
ARMAGEDDON IS IT UPON US?
THE ANTI-CHRIST, IS HE AMONG US?”
And that’s when I stood to my feet
And realized the truth
the anti-Christ is from us….


Could have Been

Bang! the shots rang out
For all to hear
Gun powdered filled air
The smoke cleared
A child lay dead

Bullet ridden, blood drippin’
Paint the sidewalk red
One less to worry about

Bang! the shots rang
For one to hear
A child sits in the back
Of a cop car
Bullet shootin’, blood dripper
He painted the sidewalk red
One less to worry about

Bang! the shots rang
For us to hear
He was not the target
Just an innocent by stander that was it
He knew love from birth
Nurtured to be somebody
Now he is just a body
Told he was a good kid
Sat in front of the class
Played sports
Daddy said he could be
whatever he wanted

he could have been
a teacher
a lawyer
or the
President

Bang! the shots rang
For you to hear

Born into racist injustices
and he was the target
Just an innocent by stander, that was it
He never knew love
Was given to the state at birth
Drug addicted mother tried
But he went back and forth
Drugs where her love
Told he would never be nobody
Now he is just a body
Of the state prison system
Told he was a bad influence on others
Sat in the back of the class
If he went to class
Played the sports of the streets
The OG’s said he could
Make some real money
A murdering spic punk

he could have been
a teacher
a lawyer
or the
President



Erica saw the World in One Color

I can remember her name was Erica a pretty brown skinned girl
She had two children Tinisha and Anthony they were her whole world
But Erica had many secrets she would hold
For her lifetime and she never told

I would see her often over by the laundry mat
It would be the hottest of days
We would just sit back in the shade drink a Pepsi and chat
She would go on about her dreams and how she wanted
A man with money and drove a baby blue Cadillac
“A money-hungry ho,” many called her
How often they forgot she was someone’s daughter
At least at one time.
It was cool with me though I understood her logic
And why cash was what she gloried
I knew the secrets that she held inside and I knew her story

You see Erica’s dad used to beat her
Her mother angry ‘cause she was born
Would mistreat her
Leave her at home alone at the age of two
And not feed her
So Erica spent most of her growing up
On her own
Soon her house was a broken home
‘Cause as daddy would say, “Love to bone
Any bitch that is open.”

Erica soon fell into depression
Dropped out of school and said “Fuck the lessons!”
At the age of thirteen she started laying with
Any fast-talking hustler who would have her
By fifteen she was with this abusive cat that
Stabbed her
There was no one around to tell her to leave him
Anyway she wouldn’t have listened
She was too in love with new clothes, cash
And shiny things that glistened
And for those things on a daily
She was beat into submission
Her belly began to grow
Sixteen with a child she didn’t know what to do
But Erica saw the world in one color and that color was blue

Erica contemplated abortion
But her man wanted a son
She had no choice but to give him one
But when she gave birth to Tinisha
Her man was on the run
She went to the hidden stash
For money but there was none
All the drug money was with ‘em
And the days passed and turned to weeks
He soon turned up but with
Five holes in his skull from the blast of a gun

Erica had a child to take care of and another one
On the way but it was lack of education
That led to her next situation
Things were cool for a moment
But she was strippin’
And the stresses of being a single mother
Had her trippin’
Barely grippin’
A sense of reality

Soon man’s greed
Supplied her need
And with a child to feed
Her seed
Became second
‘Cause mommy Erica had a new passion
She was a slave to it
And without it she received a slave lashin’
Her life was crashin’ with no hope in sight
Her lips stuck to a pipe
Gave birth and they were both addicted
To crack cocaine and could barely manage to fight
And despite her affliction
She needed help, that she knew
But Erica only saw the world in one color and that color was blue

And, years passed Erica’s neglect toward
Her children came grew worse and worse
And they were taken by the state
But it was much too late
They had been exposed to the streets
High teen pregnancy and crime rate
And inside them grew hate
Felt they could trust no one
And anyway no one could relate
It was about that same time to date
That Erica had turned to the oldest profession
What was a one time thing took a progression
And soon became a daily session
More and more drugs were the only thing
That eased her depression
Drugs became God and she prayed to them
On a daily basis
Slept with men unprotected and
Never remembered faces
Soon she started to show traces
Of death

So she went and got tested for immune deficiency
The test was positive but like many
She did not believe in the test’s accuracy
She thought it could not be true
But it didn’t matter ‘cause
Erica only saw the world in one color and that color was blue

Erica would lay out on the street and just stare
Receive nasty glares
Because of the way she looked
Her tattered clothes and dirty hair
She begged for money but no one wanted to hear
No one wanted to care
She was forgotten because like they say
“Life is not fair.”
There she laid
Stayed
And paid the greatest price of life
Death alone
She was no longer a mother daughter aunt or wife
And Tinisha, Erica’s first born
Was pregnant with a daughter of her own
The cycle was inevitable and was destined to continue
And when her baby girl was born she too
Only saw the world in one color and that color was blue



God Cried Red

In the beginning when woman and man were nothing more than in
The imagination of the Creator
There was an unreal peace over all the inhabitants of the Earth
And yet God wanted to be loved and cherished
So in her own image she created woman
And man to sit alongside each other as caretakers of the Earth
And amidst all the creations of her heart
She placed man and woman above all and gave them free will
But alas, out of mankind’s free will came the ability to question
And from the tree of knowledge came the evils of man’s heart

And God Cried Red

Over time man multiplied and no longer saw each other as brothers
But as intruders on land that God created for all creatures
And man did not listen to the one Creator
Now man made their own gods and died for stone
Man died for land that was not theirs to own
Man took up weapons of stone and bone
And killed over the land that God created
For them to share

And God Cried Red
For the blood shed
She cried for the dead

In the heart of man there always existed
The potential to realize the truth
But man had developed religion
And now man died for religion
And killed for principle and for power
And again man went to war
Throughout the land metal swords and iron shields
Clanged and cut through flesh and bone
Brother against brother, clan against clan, and tribe against tribe
And man died from the hate of himself
Suffering was imposed on those who were weak
Whole peoples enslaved
Nations rose to power
To rule with the edge of a blade
And the Earth soaked with red from the blood of man


And Again God Cried Red
For the blood shed
She cried for the dead

Over time man developed and created more weapons
Of war and destruction
From stones and spears, bows and swords, shields and crossbows
Came a black powder and from that powder came muskets, cannons, and rifles
All over Earth man killed and plundered
For religion, principle, country and in the name of God conquered nations

And God Cried Red
For the blood shed
She cried for the dead

And again, once again man developed
And created weapons and machines of mass destruction
And man killed and imprisoned and murdered one another
Only this time the toll of death was like never before seen
The whole world went to war twice in less than forty years
From the rifle came rapid firing rifles developed into machine guns
And from steel and iron came machines never before seen
Jeeps, tanks, and planes’ missiles and land mines, grenades
Bombs, and a weapon so horrific
It could destroy all of creation by the push of a button
In the time it takes you to blink

And Again God Cried Red
For the blood shed
She cried for the dead

And man developed more and more advanced weapons of mass destruction
Man created missiles that could be fired thousands of miles away
Jets that fly high into space, nuclear submarines to sit quietly on the ocean bottom,
Made cities to float on the sea ready for a full assault,
Chemicals, germs, and biotechnologies
To infect enemy nations, man developed machines to kill with no conscience, satellites to hear the enemy
And man trusted no one

And Again God Cried Red
For the blood shed
Only this time she did not cry for the dead
But for the living and what was ahead




Influential

War games enemy of the state
While the lost wait
For evil to open hell’s gate
I organize and congregate
Contemplate and prepare to participate
in the fight to end all hate
Many say, “Let’s eat from the same plate.”
I say, “Fuck that let’s create
A new slate
A new state of mind.”
Pay attention to detail
Many of the messages are hidden and sublime
Need to rewind
Seek out and find
In order to reach the divine, existence
I stay persistent never ritualistic
Free your mind and the rest will follow
Always watch for predators on the prowl
Make sure to say everyday I will
Change what I can
Be who I am
Stay true to myself
And watch for the theories of man
Accept the Creator’s plan
Never fall to the scam
Of organized religion
It will lead you to a spiritual prison
Self-destruction an inner cataclysm
We keep ourselves trapped
Not realizing our true potential
The growth of our people is exponential
Too many of us are resentful
I focus on reaching the land of plentiful
Always use my mental
To relay my messages continental
Thought patterns never sequential
Just think how you can change the world
With a note book and pencil
It’s cool to be rich
But I’d rather be influential



Man with no Name

I touch pen to paper
let my voice be heard
in search of the true word
of God
got me wonderin’
about the situation that we in
when will it all end
they tell me the end is near
but what is it that I should fear
a tear in the lonely night
my mind takes flight
in search for the light
but I can’t lie to my sight
by what I see
through the façade of a fake democracy
monetary units
got young livin’ dead blastin’ with no hope
young babies born hooked on dope
shorties dieing over the sales of coke
eyes only seen through the gun smoke
and yet I must maintain
just a pawn in this worldly game
who’s to blame
from the east they came
and the savages in the name
of God they wanted to tame
and for spain
and all of europe Our land they claimed
and brought tribes in chains
to work the rugged terrain
and so I am left a man colonized with no name
and so I am left a man with no name
branded my blood by Spanish rule
very apparent by my white skin and the green
eyes I see the world through
the truth is hard to swallow
but how can you swallow if you can’t even chew
born into confusion with out a clue
of what to do
only seeing the world in blue
left with no options what would you do

I question our very existence, what does it all mean
all that I’ve seen
walking life with no legs on a wobbly high beam
pain agony, hate, venom and rage is all that exists
at least at times that’s what it seems
every corner a new scheme
your vision must be keen
or you will be swept away by the wrong team
but who’s to say who’s wrong or right
I am just one of many prepared to fight
for universal human rights
I am blinded by the light
yet I can’t see at night
but I can’t lie to my sight
and despite
the evil games corporations and governments play
I must find my way
take the struggle day by day
in these times you can be killed by what you say
but if left unsaid I would rather be dead
but if left unsaid I would rather be dead
the truth shall set you free
at least that’s what was taught to me
yet Adam ate from the tree
of knowledge and was locked out
of the paradise with no key
knowledge of self-history
gives you identity
which is more powerful
then any gun, any weapon, any army
its combat of the mind
this system depending on us to commit crime
to kill each other so our population may decline
my ancestries traveled through time
told me to put it in rhyme
watch for there signs
seek out and find
be prepared to climb
in order to reach the divine

Reality got me hurtin’
uncertain
for what the future of our youth will be
caught up in a cycle of poverty
of drug abuse, needles with HIV
robbery
lost sense of community
government dependency
bull shit practice of equality
erased history
ghetto misery
killin’ for currency
no identity three strikes
lock you up that’s just policy
wait god will save us theology
tyranny
a false sense of security
that we are free
roots with a cut down tree
lock with a broken key
lost responsibility
a constitution built on hypocrisy
lies built over democracy
internal anger directed towards you and me
born with two eyes but still can’t see
that this the land of opportunity
was squeezed from our peoples blood
by land robbery
forced factory for industry
labor for free in the 13 colonies
slavery, outright brutality
population control
put you in the penitentiary
constantly constantly
reminding you of
a created inferiority
this land is your land
this land is my land
manifest destiny
disregarded humanity
time to create our own realities



Me

Born in a place called S A G Nasty
Grandson of farm workers
and grandparents who worked the assembly
line of the automotive industry
my story
starts with lost memories
of my identity
colonized by the cross
of so called spanish nobility
in their reflection I see me
but still considered a brown man
even with my white skin privilege
I will never fit in to what the European
Has created

In the so-called Americas I was born
English my first tongue
Spanish was shunned
Because to be successful
You must forget where you are from
No temples no culture no civilization

As a child I knew I was Mexican
But never knew what that meant
Forgotten in one generation
Were the days of work
Only to sleep in a tent
Now days everything is good
Even though my moms and pops
had to work everyday to pay the rent
And work is what they did
Cause when I was born
They were both still kids
not told much on their relationship
I do remember my mom dropping me off
To work early in the morning in the fields
That’s just the way it was
Did not understand the meaning
Behind the mask
My pops after two years in school
Just kept up the daily task
Of going to work
Driving forty-five miles a day
Each way
To get paid
Only to spend it away
On the necessities of a family

Both parents gave me love
Not a perfect family but it was us
One sister CeCe, three brothers, big Al, Steve and Gabriel,
so to school it was the bus
growing up in the belly of the beast
my vision started to change
starting to see things I could not explain
a teacher told me, question what you see!
gave me a few books on my history
and inside me a hate brewed
and from that a love for who
I truly was grew
Armed with the true facts
I started to attack
And never looked back
To chi I took rails on holy land
A system of wealth built
By brown Asians and Africans
And in the midst of the Daley machine
Our daily hurt
Our daily pain
The daily rains
My journey set me on Paseo Boricua
The Puerto Rican Passage
To build with my Boricua
Brothers and sisters
Dreams to build from the ash
Of the forgotten land of the sun
In my blood is the indigenous keeper
And the murdering system
So I look to the sky for inspiration
To guide my way
Something from deep within
Perhaps Zapata
Has me wanting to scream revolution
And in the midst
of our minds we are all searchin' for a solution
because we are losin'
our identities, histories, traditions, and children
we see a just world but we can’t seem to build one
and in all the knowledge and books
practicing this future is harder then it looks
on paper.

a world with no heaven or hell
No need for jails
Or guns that go BLAW
No racism
No prisons
With white men trying to fill em
With browns and blacks
No slums no addicts no crack
No nuclear war attacks
No making treaties and taking them back
No need for keeping track
Of borders
No warriors
No men raping daughters
No thieves
No need to escape with weed
No killin' our seed
No greed
No bombs or tanks
No news of a battle ship they sank
No hunger or famine
No death just life
No hate just love
That is a just love
We will feel no pain
And our natural selves
will walk the earth
I look out the window
Of the blue line and realize
It all still hurts



Morena De Mi Corazon

Morena the first color I knew
Before I even existed God selected that color for me

Morena de mi Corazon
She was the first color that held me close
The first color I loved
The first color that nurtured my growth
She was part of me and I of her
When I cried she comforted me
When I fell she lifted me
For nine months Morena was all I knew
Morena was me

Morena de mi Corazon
My first steps were with her
My first memories of life
I was attached to her
I could not bear to be apart from her
I would cry out if she left me to go to work
But rejoice when the older and wiser, but just as beautiful
Morena de mi Corazon
Held me, her face a darker brown
Shining with memories of raising twelve boys and three girls
Now this brown woman was helping in raising me
I can remember early morning breakfeast
Always freshly cooked homemade tortillas
Eggs frijoles and sometimes not so homemade Count Choculas
I was three when she started spitting up blood
Holding the bucket for her as she said, “Ahi mijo, I’ll be okay.”
I think that was the only English she knew
But sadly it was so long ago
I can’t really remember how much English she did speak
Yet I still cry at the thought of that memory

Morena de mi Corazon
I am not sure how much longer it was before she died
I know shortly after that moment I never saw her again
At the time being three I did not understand death
I just sat on Morena’s lap
As this young and beautiful color cried so many tears of sorrow
It drained the very happiness of her soul
And I did nothing but sit
It was not until a few days later when I realized
The older and wiser color was never coming back
That I cried
I often sit and wonder how this older and wiser color
Would be now
What she could have taught me, what we would laugh about
And what memories we would have now
But like all strong colors they over time
Fade away and are nothing more than memories
Of the past
It has taken me seventeen years to come to terms with this
And again all I can do is cry

Morena de mi Corazon
Time passed and Morena was all around me
From tias to cousins to second cousins
And in school there was a whole new type of Morena
And again it was the first color I loved
I would see her by my locker, in front of me,
Sitting behind me, on the playground and
On the way home from school and this Morena
Had shades as dark as coffee with no cream
To as light as the cream itself
And let me tell you I enjoyed tasting every flavor
Of cappuccino and mocha on the menu

Morena de mi Corazon
Morena this evil color broke my heart
She played with my emotions
At times she was the most beautiful color ever seen
But this evil color that I had come to love so dear
Cheated on me
I hated her down to my very existence
My heart torn
Not sure what to do
“I don’t love you!” I would yell
For what you have done
I can no longer live
But then again Morena entranced me
With her music, with her fruit
And her overall loyalty ensured me to
Trust her

Morena de mi Corazon
Soon she was an obsession
Her curves, her scent, her taste
Like no other known to exist in all of creation
Morena was like a color never seen, a fragrance never smelled
Or like skin that had never been touched
She was in my dreams and again I loved her
The way she danced to the rhythms of the world
How she lifted her eyes
Just enough to catch a glance of her beauty
And Morena was coveted by all men of the Earth
Morena, Morena, Morena
She gave birth to Che, to Cesar, to Tejarina, to Zeta Acosta to Benito Juarez
To kings in Africa, to children in the Middle East
Morena made by God, cleaned kitchens, mopped floors
And managed to raise doctors, lawyers
Engineers, writers, photographers
And still cooked tortillas frijoles and carnitas
All in the same day

Morena de mi Corazon
Worked in plants, in foundries, in factories
Worked the fields as good as any man, if not better
She crossed the border by river, by land, by ocean
Had the border move on her
Gave birth to revolutions, artists, philosophers
To ancient astronomers
Civilizations advanced in mathematics, in architecture
Raised her rifle to France, to America, to Spain
Morena endured rape, slavery,
The stigma of no social status
She was good enough to fuck
But not to take home to mommy and daddy
She was beat, abused, hooked on dope, smack
And crack
She was cheated on
Put up with your punk ass only dating White girls
She went to war with you
Held down the house
Made the food you eat
Gained weight so you could have a family
Had her chest sag just so you could grow and be healthy
Did your laundry and the Jones’ to make a few extra dollars
She went to law school got her bachelors, her masters,
Became a doctor, a lawyer, president of a corporation,
Started her own business, fought fires, opened minds
Became a poet, an artist, a congresswoman, a teacher
Morena, Morena, Morena
Made love to me!

Morena de mi Corazon
For all that I love you.




My Sin

A picture of two that should have been three
I pray to God every day that you may forgive me
I was young blind and could not see
I had a false sense of reality

If you can hear this please, please don’t blame mommy
This is my plea
Yes it’s true she was my light and my life
I was just too immature to ask her to be my wife

So what was she supposed to do?
Fifteen years old carrying my seed
Which I had no money to clothe or feed
I could not supply to either of your needs

All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind
“I need to find a solution.” I can remember thinkin’
I was in an ocean of thought and sinkin’

“PLEASE LORD, I would yell out,
HELP ME GET THE HELL OUT!”
But where do I go?

Too ashamed to go to church,
But it seemed the only place I found peace
I wanted to cease
To exist
Hoping and praying when I reached heaven
I would be on God’s list
And there you would be an angel to greet me with
A forgiving kiss
Until then I will have to miss

All that could have been
Because of my sin.



People See

Many times people see what they want to see
Their perception of reality is dictated by the industry
So if you are blind, I’m -a let you be blind
But if you can see, step to the light and open your mind

The true meaning of life
Analyzed, surmised, concentrated, recreated,
The theory of this, that, and the other
Like is this man or that man my brother?
Caught up in the thinking game
Like who’s to blame,
Who’s to shame,
And who set the first flame?
Who are the real thieves, the real criminals
The dirty politicians and corporations
Who did their stealing subliminal?
Hypocrisy, animosity, racial tensions between you and me
The world turns unhealed wounds burn
Under the ash comes generations yearn
A force-unwilling if you will
Not to rape, rob, shoot, or steal
A lyrical poet whose mission is to stimulate
Contemplate, educate, and reiterate
The mission of the mind

Many times people see what they want to see
Their perception of reality is dictated by the industry
So if you are blind I’m-a let you be blind
But if you can see step to the light and open your mind

Dr. King, is your dream still alive?
Jim Crow and Willie Lynch still seem to thrive
More subtle now days wouldn’t dare say nigger or spic
But the game is more like a magic trick
It’s an illusion to the American Dream
Credit card debt, no money for school
it turns to the American scheme
‘Cause things always aren’t what they seem
And at times I just want to scream!
But you really can’t say how you feel
Or censorship won’t cut you no record deal
And my brethren out on the street fight for a hot meal
And as our prisons fill
We keep staking concrete and steel
But like the wheel it all comes back around
The revolution will be won on the underground
It’s time to break the chains of five hundred years of oppression
Pick up a book and learn your own lessons
How easily we are forgotten in history
‘Cause his-story is for his glory
And you won’t see me celebrate Columbus Day
‘Cause Columbus didn’t make no damn discovery
And I am supposed to accept one chapter
For thousands of years of civilization
“O let’s thank the Europeans alone for establishing this great nation,”
When browns, Blacks, people of color have been its foundation
Since its creation
I ain’t speaking hate I am talking knowledge
All this coming from someone with one semester of college
It doesn’t take much to learn
But it’s hard to earn the respect of others
But that’s the problem, no respect for the past or the present
Delores Huerta, Cesar Chavez, Corky Gonzales
Brother Malcolm, all on the front line of the movement
All helped spark a revolution
But who will take it to the next level
Who will drop the pebble
To cause a chain reaction
To start a new faction
And add to the old and create a new fraction?
Forty-one bullets rang out and nobody seemed to care
So you tell me that it’s fair
That a man is shot forty-one times and there is no repercussion to be seen anywhere
And a symbol of hate flies high above the capital of one of the states
And I get stared at when I go out on an so called interracial date
So if you think it’s all done and equal
I’ll see you during the second movement, ‘cause there will be a sequel

Many times people see what they want to see
Their perception of reality is dictated by the industry
So if you are blind, I’m-a let you be blind
But if you can see, step to the light and open your mind

Spoken contradictions, societal persecutions
Racist evolutions
Gave us Affirmative Action
To give us at the time satisfaction
We did not realize the long term back lashin’
Settled for crumbs
us the kings and queens of generations
Long before their duration
And yet we have the wrong mental contemplation
Catz steady smokin’ up crack and shootin’
Catz steady killin’ our own and lootin’
Need to get back to brother Malcolm, Huey P., Dr. King, Cesar Chavez,
and God to help ‘em
Thought the battle was won ‘cause we could drink from the same fountain
But that’s far from the equality that I am shoutin’
I’m talkin’ the browning of the whole United States Nation
I’m talkin’ ‘bout takin’ my brother and putting him on a T.V. station
I‘m talkin’ social elevation
Artistic creation
The rise of a forgotten generation
I ‘m talkin’ bout reverse cultural castration
I’m talkin’ systematic ghetto migration
I’m talkin’ ‘bout the flight to a higher elevation
I’ll see you when we reach that destination 


Response to Those Who Say
“Let’s Take It Back to the Good Old Days.”

Let’s take it back to the good old days
Yes, let’s take it back to
When niggers and spics knew their place
When chinks were lined up
And placed in camps
When women of color were
Fast whores and tramps
When Hoover bugged Dr. King
By placing microphones in his hotel lamps

Let’s take it back to when
The CIA placed hundreds of Cubans
On a certain bay
And let them be slain
And then say
“O we had nothing to do with it,
It was what they,
What they wanted.”

Let’s take it back to
Commie sympathizer witch hunts
Let’s take it back to black lists
Let’s take it back to government control
Segregation because of pigmentation
Let’s take it back to the control of a islands
Population through sterilization

Let’s take it back to when bullets flew
When Kennedy’s brain was splattered
When Dr. King’s skull was opened
When brother Malcolm’s soul left
Cause of conspiracies buried in files and codes

Let’s take it back to small Black children
Being sprayed on the streets of the U.S.
Attacked by dogs
Spit on like Christ was by bigots

Let’s take it back to chemical
Insecticides used to grow healthy crops
And infected my family

My uncles
My grandparents
Who worked for under minimum wage
Like slaves they labored in the sun
To be infected by cancer

Yes, let’s take it back to the Zoot-Suit Riots
Where America’s Navy raped our women
Beat our men all in the name of defense
Yes let’s take it back to
When the only face of beauty was White
When Latino actors were forced to say they
Were Italian
When Mulatto mixed children said they
Were not Black

Yes, let’s take it back to when the only act
On the big screen that depicted
People of color was about
Sex, violence, or ignorance

Let’s take it back to when Bruce Lee
Was forced to wear a mask because
Of his slanted eyes
And millions yelled out to the Green Hornet

Let’s take it back to when Blacks
Could not play in the NBA
Before Iverson, before Jordan and Zeek
Before Magic, before Dr. J, before the Ice Man
Before Wilt and Russell

Let’s take it back to the good old days
When millions of Americans went
Overseas to fight wars
Only to return in body bags
And because they were not White
Could not be buried in the
Cemeteries that they died to keep

Let’s take it back to when
The government introduced Heroin
To the streets of Harlem
To the streets of Los Angeles


Let’s take it back to when jazz was monkey music
Back to Black face
Uncle Tom, yes massa mentalities

Let’s take it back to when masters raped slaves
When Thomas Jefferson had a
Love affair with one of his own
Let’s take it back to the possibility
That Abraham Lincoln was half Black

Let’s take it back to cowards hiding
Behind sheets setting crosses a blaze

Let’s take it back to governmental testing
On minorities to see the outcome of A.I.D.S.

Let’s take it back to the Treaty of Guadalupe
Forty acres and a mule
Let’s take it back to the Red Man
Being infected by small pox from blankets
Given to him by the U.S. of A.

Let’s take it back to no questions
Everything you see reality
Dogma of the age

Let’s take it back to when women were worth
Nothing, unable to vote, baby-making
Cooking tortillas, greens “just lay there”
As I bust time and time again

Let’s take it back to Vietnam
When men and women bled and bled
and bled

That’s why when I hear people say
“Let’s Take it Back to the Good Old Days,”
I say, FUCK THAT! NO WAY!
The good old days weren’t as
Good as they say



Today

Today I looked into my brother’s eyes and saw hope for tomorrow
I know that this world is corrupted with many evils that have not been solved
But today I don’t want to fight the revolution
No, no, no, today I want to sit under the sky as the sun warms me with its
Life giving rays
Today I want to watch my two youngest brothers wrestle
I want to watch my sister smile and tell jokes
I want to have a deep discussion with my brother, on
who is better on the basketball court
And remind him that he has never beat me
(If you ever see him he will say he did once
But in all accounts of my memory he never has)
Today I want to watch my mother cook dinner for the family and ask,
“What are you doing with your life?,” “When are you going to college?,” and
My favorite, “ You need to go to church.”
I want to sit on the couch in the living room with my father and
Discuss why the Detroit Lions have never been to a Super Bowl
Today I just want to chill and kick back
I want to make love to a beautiful woman
I want to be in unison with the universe
I want to feel wanted
I want you to feel wanted
Today I want to thank God for all she has blessed me with
For the use of my pen
I want to sit on this bus and write a love poem
I want the poem to write me
Today is a wonderful day
I am alive
I am here
And today I am the richest man on the Earth
Because I appreciate
Today




Tommy’s Street Secret

Tommy was like fifteen
Probably more like sixteen or seventeen when the bullets rang out
Tommy man, that cat borrowed my bike and never brought it back
The streets kept your secret, for two weeks no one said a word
Not a fuckin’ word

I can remember when we used to play basketball all summer
Under the hot scorching sun.
The sun hot as freshly shot bullets
The kind that killed you.

It was that ghetto mentality that took you
That I am the baddest nigga
I am the hardest loco

It’s that mindset that makes our brothers rape our sisters
Grab their booty and say, “ Hey bitch I was just playing!”
It’s that mindset that makes our children grab a strap and
Just shoot at random.
It’s that ain’t about nothing
Never about nothing that was installed
In someone that made them shoot you

Tommy you were not a thug
And you were not watching the streets
But the streets were watching you when the shots rang out

Tommy was like fifteen
Probably more like sixteen or seventeen when the bullets rang out
Tommy man, that cat borrowed my bike and never brought it back
The streets kept your secret for two weeks, no one said a word
Not a fuckin’ word

And for two weeks you lay dead
Ironically in an old cemetery
And for two weeks no one said a word
Not one fuckin’ word
And for two weeks the streets kept your secret
Your body was left so mutilated
And decomposed that you had to be burned to
Ash at your funeral

I heard it was over a girl….

Tommy was like fifteen
Probably more like sixteen or seventeen when the bullets rang out
Tommy man, that cat borrowed my bike and never brought it back
The streets kept your secret for two weeks, no one said a word
Not a fuckin’ word

People say race relations ain’t so good in the U.S.
But you were Black and I was Mexican
And between us we didn’t see no damn color
We were just close friends
I can’t imagine all the pain
And all the tears your one brother,
Many sisters and mother shed
But Tommy I just wanted you to know
Your memory will live through me