Ride ’em!
Until they call You, “Cowboy.”
Take hold of the reins
and raise your arm and fist
up high to show you mean business.
And, when that one tires,
raise the other one
Steady and balance yourself
to avoid being knocked off
the merry-go-round.
There’s no need to raise your voice
to be taken seriously.
Remember, you don’t have to lower
your head to know where you’re going
Tag: race
The Sell-Out at the Citizens Academy
A really good person thinks that he was a sell-out at a meeting or class he attended at the Citizens Academy, in Syracuse, New York. ,
The Class offered many students the opportunity to learn more about the government and/or how the city of Syracuse and its surrounding counties operated. Each week, a panel is involved as each person who is incharge of their department in Syracuse discusses what they do to make the city of Syracuse a better place to live. Apparently, no one has the courage to challenge its panelists on how non-diverse Syracuse really is. There seems to be monies available for revitalization and getrification in the city but not for much else. The poor in the city stay poor. Crime is rampant and rising as talks about the I-81 infrastructure takes true precedence. The area affected would be the poorest in the city and is the most dire for a makeover. Being that it would be considered a makeover, something or someone would have to go.
Back when Black people were forced out of the 15th Ward to make way for a new highway, those in higher positions turned a deaf ear to the people of that community. Today, with all of the meetings and forums created to supposedly invite voices to be heard about the I-81 viaduct, it seems those souls are being placated and patronized. A decision has already been made to tear down the eyesore known as Pioneer Homes. Although there are those meek souls and gophers who work for Blue Print 15, a company brought in to smooth-over the tempered voices of the soon-to-be decimated area, they steadily expect their check to arrive weekly. The Workers in the House quells those working in the fields. Visions of sugarplums dance in the heads of those truly expecting to move back into their old neighborhoods in a new dwelling alongside the middle and higher income level residents. Does this really seem realistic? Who would or could tolerate such? Why should they tolerate living next to a family that crime follows? Then again, Blue Print 15 was incharge of like communities in Atlanta, GA. Go figure.
But there is also the issue of diversity in Syracuse where it is perceived that persons of color don’t have the proper skill set to hold mid-level positions in companies. As an incentive to bring new companies into the Syracuse area, tax deferments or tax breaks (spread out of years) are offered. Do those companies hold the proper skill set to maintain employees of color. Of course, there are those who would say, “But at least they could have a job making a decent wage.” Is it really a wage that would allow them the luxury of living comfortably without having to secure a second or third job? And, what if the person of color is held to a different set of matrixes, a higher set, that could see them walked out the door of that job before they have met their probationary period?
Aside from and in lieu of all that, the person tried to incorporate Atlanta, GA into a question he asked: What does Syracuse have to offer me? The real question, as the reason he felt he sold-out, should have been, “What does Syracuse have to offer a Black man like myself?” I told him that I’m sure some people understood where he was going with the question, but everybody should have gotten it. Each panelist spoke on the wonderful qualities Syracuse has to offer. It’s just that each panelist, including Deputy Mayor Sharon Owens, knew that there was only one real race, genre, and nationality that mattered. White. A new proposed Aquarium, new downtown loft apartments, all the non-inclusive eateries and clubs that frowned upon the thought of intimidation or fear that accompanied a single or group of persons that did not include at least one white person were just a few joys of one moving to Syracuse.
What does Syracuse have to offer a Black Man? More crime, harassment, discrimination, discouragement, complacency, static. Just how would the panelists have answered that question? Isn’t the Black Man, and even the Black Woman, part of the economy they spoke about? Even the Deputy Mayor wouldn’t be able to answer that question with a stragiht face, since she was trying to save face. Yes, the gentleman could have been a Maverick from seeking an answer to that question. Would it have been worth it? Probably so. Were those waves that should have been ruffled? Yes and No. More Yes.
Intimidation vs. Peer Pressure (Discussion)
A lady told me that her son was going through something in school. It was made apparent that her son was “sweet” on a young girl in his class. And she was “sweet” on him, too!
Well, other young boys, in the class, knew that her son was fond of the young girl as well. Their mission: to turn the young girl against the boy with good grades. “He ain’t all that!,” was what had flowed in the class. The young boy wanted to fit in.
He comes home one day and exclaimed, “I don’t like her anymore!” It didn’t seem like she spent too much time in getting him to explain the sudden change. But yet, she knew of the boys intention to pretty much disown him because of his prestine reputation in the class. She shrugged it off.
So then, I said, “That’s intimidation.” No, it’s not!,” she said. Intimidation is when somebody has an ultimatum to fulfill. He didn’t feel as though he had to do anything.”
I said, “You’re wrong. So wrong. And I don’t even have kids.”
“I Can’t Breathe”
Brought in out of Change
Because certain people wanted Strange
To let chaos run amuck
And you said You didn’t give a Fuck
Swore to drain the swamp
On a podium we all heard “Womp Womp”
You once called them “Stupid”
And paraded your name like Cupid
What thread count was your sheet
That didn’t cover the dead on the street?
You opposed one group that took a knee
Then laughed when done by the PD
Seems you have much more in store
Since a different virus kicks in the door
Even though the sunshine begs in line
Social Media makes the dark ones shine
Handcuffed, therefore to grieve
But you can’t hear, “I Can’t Breathe”
All you’ve done and said has been recorded
Is the Jury afraid they’ll be deported?
It’s hard to wear your heart on your sleeve
Don’t rush to judgment – just because “I Can’t Breathe”
Livestock tainted so the Market can rise
Some believe God loves the lies
So, the next time you do deceive
Don’t ask who said, “I Can’t Breathe”
“I Can’t Breathe”
Brought in out of Change
Because certain people wanted Strange
To let chaos run amuck
And you said You didn’t give a Fuck
Swore to drain the swamp
On a podium we all heard “Womp Womp”
You once called them “Stupid”
And paraded your name like Cupid
What thread count was your sheet
That didn’t cover the dead on the street?
You opposed one group that took a knee
Then laughed when done by the PD
Seems you have much more in store
Since a different virus kicks in the door
Even though the sunshine begs in line
Social Media makes the dark ones shine
Handcuffed, therefore to grieve
But you can’t hear, “I Can’t Breathe”
All you’ve done and said has been recorded
Is the Jury afraid they’ll be deported?
It’s hard to wear your heart on your sleeve
Don’t rush to judgment – just because “I Can’t Breathe”
Livestock tainted so the Market can rise
Some believe God loves the lies
So, the next time you do deceive
Don’t ask who said, “I Can’t Breathe”
The Race is…
The race is
Going to the store
Seeing different colored cards
Being used by friends
Wanting one so badly
Hating life
The race is
Told by a pretty blonde
She knows her husband is
Bigger, stronger, faster
And better
Despite popular belief
The cause is her effect
The race is
Swearing children don’t imitate
Their atmosphere
Until words are spoken
at the wrong time
wants to blame the school
and sue
The race is
Seeking solace from church
And the Bible
Remembering only what
Is necessary
To shine light
On what is dark
The race is
Voting in a sheet covered
Small box with a drawstring
while choices are made on beliefs
Not righteousness
With all eyes in the back
the print on the page
is overlooked
The race is
known for Right versus Wrong
dying to be a martyr
never waivering
until
TTBoy Says:
TTBoy Says: When you see “N***a” or “n***a,” You know what the real word is. It’s just like “N***er” or “n***er” or “N****r” or “n***er.” Such dirty shortcuts for dirty words.
Nappy Headed Rich Girl
Her love of the Hood
grew painstakingly as her mother
begged and pleaded for her
to stay home during the
day
What pain she felt
to try and honor a mother
to retain the status that is
socially full of grace and correctness
a status
that includes class
only if the hood is designer
A different pain leaves her
at night
Mother knows
Mommy knows this
At night
mother’s pain painstankingly overcomes her
as she must fight disgrace
to see her from the fourth floor brownstone window
An incorrect passerby beckons
her child as they both look
up
to see her piercing through the clouds
From above
she wishes and prays that her child
is not reverting back to where she derived
Mommy always did crave
the Upper East Side
The New Nurse and the Old Game
Doctor Doctor
Please come quick
one of your nurses is
making me sick
Just look at me,
don’t I look thin?
Maybe it’s because of
the color of my skin
I don’t want to die
that’s why I came here
It was the outside
I thought I had to fear
She barely even speaks
or care to look at me
Just tell me what I’ve done
just what could it be
There’s not a sign of respect
though let me refer to my age
Days of yesteryear I reflect
Somebody forgot to turn the page
Why is this so
Have the times not changed?
Below my pillow my face will go
as I will be called demented and deranged
I hear she went to school
to learn how to make me feel better
I guess somebody was made the fool
And gave me the scarlet letter
Doctor Doctor
can’t you see
I really think she has it out for me
I know I heard her talking
Proud
Then again, maybe it was just
Loud
About how the life would be so
nice
The closer it was to the color
of rice
She’s afraid to touch my hair
Says I should do it myself
Not a hint or sign of care
as I have to get my brush from
the high shelf
Should I slip or fall
on my back or on my face
If she could send me back
I might be treated with grace
Why oh Why
I cry to the sky
Lying so often in waste
Festering with lye
I long ago thought of the tales
I would tell
Surrounded by little ones
Instead of the book smart from Hell
Now when I close my eyes
I try and force dreams of love
Feeling my body drift and rise
And looking down below from above
Doctor Doctor
Why are you here?
Is there anyone for whom you’ve
shared a tear?
Are you aware
Or do you care
Memories you can share
Shed the evil, if you dare
Treat me
like I’m a human being
Treat me
Like I am worth seeing
Doctor Doctor
Tell me true
Why does my nurse make me feel Black
And make me so blue?