Thursday, July 21, 2016

The ache in #cake

And the slave became Peter Pan in blackface

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Plantation Hoppin

What makes   you think ?       What propels the electrical circuitry or circus / bent current  you call a mind. Kind soul please tell me.   These  trees  wrapped in 72 deadly magics    taste   like grapes  and cabbage    black  hearts   breaking, suicide leisure     What makes   you think         hedonism  is  anything     but suffering,    shut  up  and love watermelon    with me       


And as for liberation,        that chameleon Lincoln,    Plantations were large townships run by black slaves. Don't expect the movies to prove you. Are not famous. No one knows your slave name.   Angry beautiful  regal black African  slaves were the fabric holding the economy of the American South in place, and they  were killing  their pathetic captors in acts of brilliant retaliation    far before the Civil War. The so called owners, planters of an indomitable black seed,  were afraid, outnumbered, their avarice had backfired.

So Lincoln freed them, not niggas, not slaves and black saviors. He freed the ghosting planters, that was the role of what we named emancipation.    And as soon as black people left the plantation, the police force and the prison system were established to replace its aims. The goal has always been free labor without backlash. That labor includes entertainment, music, dance, literature, our most advanced technologies, which we sell in exchange for some mirage of progress. Now that we aren't tolerating that and robots are on the horizon, machines to do that undesirable work,  the goal of the prison system and the police force is quickly shifting from the holding captive of free black able bodied laborers, to genocide. They kill us and sell our organs and stem cells on the black market in effort to become more like us. And all of our artists are so preoccupied with outcry and vengeance that we enter into a numb frenzy of performed resistance. In both the conscious and subconscious minds of the white man it is known this American experiment is coming to an end. And when the small time crooks convinced they’re on a winning streak see you laughing by candlelight—

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Monday, July 18, 2016

Eugenics on Fifth and Lennox

We muttered the words  s u g a r   h i l l  until they made  a praise chant  

What are we celebrating?    

Slaves still in the swamp  harvesting   cane  today   Big Daddy Kane's bling is hollow   and wade in the water is still  a relevant lament.  More slaves  died for sugar than niggas die  for one another more slaves went under for sugar  than for cotton, you could pray over the cotton and program  it    safe    but  the sugar   water   alone  much less full of shit  and blood  and moaners  

Safety is a pathetic notion   to a black  body     the same boy who was rapping about roaches invading his generic cereal boxes in the projects last week, is in Soho this week claiming he's never  tasted the slaves who tasted the sugar they made of him  even as they whisper   mercies across his burden  
--
I am shrinking a heap of cherries   so shiny  and ruby    they   reflect  me    ,  glimmer   when I blink   a sudden puppy steals the seeds and crams them into the grass desperately   more will grow there and reflect   that  teaming     how  our black genome is  hilariously    impossible   to defeat    but every time  you crave  a  taste   of that white  powder  picked  in a field you can't see by a nigga you can't save    on an island you believe is  a resort   every time   you pretend  cake   is a casual  delicacy     and     smear  that blood into  parties  I wish   you   the deepest        enlightenment     Yoruba    you rub off     sweetawfulblues