Day 21..21/30-Ode to Hip Hop

Rather Late than never...im terrible!

"Yes Yes Yall and it don’t stop

To the beat yall and it don’t stop

Ah yes yes yall and it don’t stop

I said yes yes yall

SHE IS HIP HOP"

This is for ever brave heart

Strong enough to house a hip hop soul

For those who traded their woodwinds and drums

For the keepsake of their hearts

Introducing a time when

Lips first found love with huddled palms

Recreating mastery sounds

The art of beat box

Became native language for hip hop

For those whose words turned round table story time with griots

into circled ciphers

Reinventing our stage

Forcing rappers to always be at their greatest

Redefining the definition of lyrical geniuses

Poets and MCees

Seize to see their own reflection

Believing to be looking into one mirror

Connecting the line between times

Making two generations into one

Like how

Maya and Lauryn are one

Langston and Lupe are one

Amiri and Tupac are one

We have become known as the generation of the new rerenaissance

Rebirthing the birth of our own culture

But never forgetting the steps it took for us to get here

That’s why you’ll always see breakdancers take two steps before they into their moves

Always remembering to pay homage to the two steppers that blessed the stage before them

Still reinventing our stage

Turning Glazed wood flooring into concrete grounds of main streets

Hip Hop started way before the back allies in the Bronx

This is for those who have forgotten where the seed was planted at first

Jazz has always been the over protective grandfather,

He still lingers in the back beats and melodies of modern days song.

Reminding hip hop that she was built off of his foundations

And that thre blues, no her father was the reason why she can express her inner soul during the darkest times.

Times have changed, but not the reason for our music

Our culture

Still reinventing itself

Like how Henry Tanner's paintings now bless urban streets in the form of graffiti

Hip Hop is here to stay

So we can all continue to say...

"Yes Yes Yall and it don’t stop

To the beat yall and it don’t stop

Ah yes yes yall and it don’t stop

I said yes yes yall

This was an Ode to Hip Hop"

Better late than Never Day 20-2PM

2PM

Math Class:

Numbers tied tightly around my brain

Solving and unsolving themselves

I’d rather not be here

Plugging in numbers for Xs

And then having to graph their Ys

I’d really rather not be here.

I’d rather be somewhere

Maybe somewhere falling in love

But catching my breathe just to say I love you.

They say it only takes two to make the world go round

Kind like how it only takes 2 fingers of yours and two fingers of mine to make our love complete

Baby,

They must’ve added up our emotions subtracted the lust sat first sight only to be left with true feelings

Remembering that 2 has always served as the numerical value for love.

But if not there

Then I'd rather be here

Sitting next to the sister that I never got to meet.

Gone.

Way before I took to mama’s uterus as home.

And Baba told me you were beautiful

Reflecting that of the way the sun kisses the continent awake with each dawning

And though many have forgotten,

The radiance of your skin still sits deep in Mama’s mind.

Her sons would grow to be Kings and

We were suppose to be the two that reminded Mama of what Princesses look like

But you left me before our eyes could ever meet and before our souls kindly introduced themselves

So if not here then

I’d rather go back

Rewind back into a time when change could be made

Only to then be fast forwarded

To a new present when

We ruled the world

Everyone conquered like the Ethiopians

Africa colonized the world

Giving keepsake to native languages.

Never really pursing diamonds because the taste of blood has never sat comfortably on our tongues.

Nubia would never be known as ancient and we would have to deem the Nile its killer.

Katrina and Rwanda would be names of its Dynasties.

And people would forever live

peacefully

Never worrying about someone asking them

“why they where their Africaness so proudly”

Because It would be given

But because I cant go back

I’m stuck here

Room 222 in the this building

Solving and unsolving life’s x’s and y’s

Only to discover new unknowns

So until I’m certain of me

Ill just leave all my answers blank.

DAY 19...19/30-Black Man.

In 2009,

Peace can’t be found plastered to his face

Honesty will never appear to dangle from the tips of his lips

And truth can never seep from his pores.

Because in 2009,

Nothing can fix his broken image.

Not the job he holds,

The types of degrees he’s earned

Or even the necks that stretch high so that lingering eyes are placed upon him

Can restore his image,

he is looked up to.

But nothing is legitimate, except stereotypes

When you are black man.

DAY 18...18/30-Rwanda

This Poem is close to my heart.

It has been 15 years since the genocide in Rwanda.

The whole world watched.

A lot of people died.

This poem is for them.

Because people have forgotten, but not ME.

_____________________________________________________

TEXT:

My fingers travel from

Head to chest

Shoulder to shoulder

For the 10,000 deaths that happen daily

400 every hour

7 every minute

while the whole world watched

The sun never stops gleaming on the pearl of Africa.

And though she kisses the continent awake with each dawning,

there is something

Different about this April.

This april

Something about the way her rays boldly blasting through satin curtains,

declaring her the fairest of them all

April has never been this beautiful.

Then comes the memories,

Of gaudy, bloodstained diamonds dangling like lynched bodies from the ears of rich, white women

As they place freshly picked daisies in the ponytails of their daughters

Believing that their sweet radiance will save them from karma.

Its sometime in April

Sometime in April when morning’s glory greets them at their doorsteps

And isn’t bother by the season’s rain

Its sometime in April

But this April was different

Like little girls who no longer sat by the river and waited for their chance to dance with Nile.

Instead their fingers frequently traveled

From head to chest

Shoulder to shoulder

Observing the 10,000 deaths that happened daily

400 every hour

7 every minute

while the whole world watched.

Blinded by the sun, that had stopped gleaming on the pearl of Africa.

Dance steps clinched feet to resemble Hutu chants

Pawa, Pawa

Pawa Pawa,

Burning soles fell hard on dusty roads

Legs sprinted away from the scent of soul’s burning in the hearts of villages

Red, yellow, and green strips left to mirror Hitler’s swastika 15 years later

And the thick stench of death still intrudes upon the senses

Caressing the morning’s air

This is for Rwanda

Gutted and filleted like a fish to feed the corporate greed

Of those who want what Africa has, without asking for it

This is for every carcass still left rotting in Murambi

For the mamas in hastily tied lappas,

With emptiness in their bellies, clinging babies on their backs,

While trying to race with the bullets of men who nurse AKS in their palms

For the children forced to protect other children against faces familiar enough to be family,

For those who turned down the audio on their video, as soon as they saw the faces were black. This is for Bill Clinton, who sat home playing his saxophone to the tune of

10,000 deaths per day

400 every hour

7 every minute

While the whole world watched.

This is for the men gone mad,

For the masquerade of them who were force to forget that behind their Hutu masks originally lied a Tutsi

Men who kicked their ancestors to the curb, so they could trash the vaginas

Of African women with impunity, and stomp black babies ridiculously,

While pale puppeteers laugh hideously,

At the holocaust they designed, deliberately.

15 years later and the everlasting flame still burns for you

Never calling you the unknown because I know who you were

We remember you

We remember them

the 10,000 who died dailly

400 every hour

7 every minute

While the whole world watched

Until they grew bored and changed the channel.

VIDEO:

DAY 17...17/30-Rocky.

Rocky,
Yes, You are Bi-polar.
Stop barking at me.
You know who I am.

-Bee

DAY 16...16/30-DC to Philly

I left DC
Grimey, yet still beautful after all that she has seen.
Only to meet him.
Just as grimey,
And just as beauitful as my own.
Realizing that I've been walking in circles.
Never really leaving the only place that I have ever known.
I knew it all looked the same for a reason.
My heart carries me home
Reminding me never to forget the place
that took me in like a motherless child
and nursed my poetry to adulthood.
I will never abandon
She.
Will only be a bus ride away.
And I will forever call her home.

DAY 15...15/30-Sims

You stand at a staggering 6'10
Your head literally dancing with the clouds
And after sunset
Your eyes mingle with stars
Reflecting that of the moon in your soul.
I see much through your eyes.
Foreseeing the day that they call you an NBA legend
Dropping doubles with no questions asks
Retired number and all
Your jersey
Hanging in a picture frame
Large enough to the fit the World's Family
Next to the Jordans, Erwings, and Worthys
Sits you..Sims

But in the moment that we speak
You are a star of your own.
With 30 plastered to your back
You must remember to make it more than a number that fans know you by.
Because in the number will live your legacy.
The legacy that began at the touch of basketball
When feet first found love with the court
Before the day you ever knew that you would be able to place your hand on cloud 9.
The day before you ever dreamt of being a Hoya.
That Navy Blue and Grey would bestow a sense of pride
Huddled humbly to your hands and gracing that of your teammates.
Deeming them newfound brothers.

And with that
I see a newfound friendship
With one willing to be seen with a star like me.
I hope you didn’t convince yourself of sole stardom
Because yes I am a star like you.
Writing poems for those who have no voice
And strengthen those with one
Our feet bring us joy
Learned an 8-count
While you were learning lay ups and crossovers
Crossing over into a time when boredom took control of your mind
Leading you to me.
Now we text message all day.
Looking for the intended in the discreet .
The only time when 5'5 can stare into the eyes of 6'10
Knowing your exact thought
At that exact time.
Resembling that of the constellations.
Something that is only known to stars.

Stars like US