About D'Blog

Listen, some of it is an actual "web log" and some of it is (mostly) "pieces".
Regardless, I'm trying to become disciplined in posting 4 a month (atleast 52 by the end of the year).
Please feel free to comment, just try not to write super unkind things-
it's better to just be quiet and send me negative telepathic vibes:)

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Tis a Bucked Up World - Ode to Rickerby Hinds

Buck World Thanks
Partna, I just got back to LA and before I head into a whole nutha head space of work,
I wanted to tell you that I am now
Stuck in the place where Buck World took me
Grabbed me in and pushed me out
All at the same time

Like their hands
Trying to let it all go.
Trying to shake the shit off their skin

Like their fists near their ears
Quick
Movements
told me that they know better to listen to the lies they’ve been told
And thank god for you
For reminding them
Cuz sometimes when you’re young,
As wise as we see from the feet and movements of babes
They still need to know that life is about something.
And that
Their Lives
Are worth more than anyone really can comprehend.

I know I know
I can hear you say it wasn’t you
It was them
And how it was a privilege
For you to be inspired to dream to write to relearn in moments what it is to live
For a reason
Because for them and those they rep
These young dark eyes seen enough than most in a couple life times
To question why anyone would even wanna make them
And, yeah, it’s sick that it’s this
That’s never given as a fact when we question our system of injustice
But you created the avenue away from the heavy blocks of Riverside
You gave em that alternative route through what they already constructed
so they wouldn’t even need to look for signs for detours.

Performance
We all looking for bigger stages to play
We all looking to see who in the world feels us
We do it for the point of connection
We do it to teach and share
We do it to make sense
We do it to feel less lonely

And yeah, maybe you think, it’s only a small step
When considering every other youngsta who tugs us out of our dreams
And says “hey, what about me?”
But it’s the hugest step
Cuz it’s the ripple effect…

And, Rick, the piece was filled with love.
And I’m not tryin to put you on that pedestal
Just trying to let you know that a peer in this real to real art world
Saw you
And wouldn’t have expected any less
Cuz your heart, your touch is all up in there.

So shut up real quick and listen:)
No one trying to deify you
Just wanted to acknowledge that it’s folks like you
Who look after your community
With the pride of a parent
With the care of a true revolutionary
With the care of a true revolutionary
With the care of a true revolutionary

Cuz only the real ones know how to care.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Yet Another Prayer for Peace

I.

Walking along these debris-laden streets, I remember you.
Was a time when we held hands, down these streets
Once clean and comfortable in serene weather
Talking warm with our breath close to each other's lips
When night was cold enough that our words formed cloud pictures against the dark
You were the one who told me that
Language didn't matter, that
All was understood when it came to love,
Ours spoke loud
Like megaphones over thousands of protesters
Demanding a right-er way of life
Another way for us to live.
Hopefully a reason to.

Remember?
Love in it's grace, sweet and sincere
Was rough river waters and you were teaspoons of sugar
We mixed upon wading in each other
Churning creating foam
Dissolving into sweet still water
This love was not to be challenged.

II.

I have seen peace in both
the lush and barren landscapes of
Tibet, Sri Lanka, Iraq, Afghanistan
Sceneries of Serenity
Mirroring a suggestion for life.

In cement cities and brick building burroughs
Ignorance burns a fire that
Trigger happy fingers and drop happy hands
Take as a smoke signal to shoot and bomb.

Suppose'd entitlement permits for God's presence
To be misconstrued, confused, twisted, distorted
Where common folk believe what's been fed to them
And doubt or ignore
The spirits of negotiating
The signals of mediation
Believe that communication
is lost like
Gems thrown overboard in the middle of a
Deep dark sea
consequently forgotten
To where the wearisome believe
there is no such thing as a retrieval of justice.

The fairytale is told
from one fed-up generation to the other they feed.

And
These people are my relatives
Only understanding the concept of land
In a way that doesn't rationalize ill actions
But has.
So then we, our people, desperate
Take it upon ourselves to pray
Before wars and battles
Instead of praying for peace.

III.

Fortunate and not pushed to desperation
I pray for this peace in the form of
Love we once had
Long time ago, laden with cozy comfortability
Than this debris.
A love that rises above rallies and
Thousands of protesters
A love that is another prayer
That starts to exit mouth in warm breath
That creates clouds that make louder pictures
Than the words we may speak
Which talk to our existence as
Beings, children, landscapes of this earth
Which take on pictures-
Relaxed after a day in the fields of
Green where we lay content
With the foliage of earth plus sky
As our sustenance
Where clouds take on pictures of
Whatever our minds see
Whomever our minds want to see again
A type of peace our hearts wish for
May we be lovers in war, may we?
May we be prayers in war, may we?