I have one simple message for you today: “Don’t be stupid”.
What I mean is, don’t be foolish. Some of us are so “overtly intelligent” that we are unable to appreciate the little things, and the simplest of manners shoot past us like a bullet. We may know the intimate details of Pythagorean’s Theorem, but we are unable to comprehend something has simple as the music in the trees or the praise coming from the lips of birds. We’ll philosophy on evolution and even teach this in our schools and at the same time admit it’s just a theory. Yet, we’re unable to understand “in the beginning”. And despite how many times we wake in the mornings…the number of times the Almighty Yah allows the sun to dance once more in our faces…despite how many times we feel the wind on our backs I’m convinced, that because man will never know how to count his breaths, he will always be too stupid to count his blessings.
Month: September 2014
“What’s Your Truth?”
What’s your definition of truth? If someone walked up to you and asked, how would you define it? Why?”
The Mis-Education of the Negro
“When you control a man’s thinking you do not have to worry about his actions. You do not have to tell him not to stand here or go yonder. He will find his “proper place” and will stay in it. You do not need to send him to the back door; he will cut one for his special benefit. His education makes it necessary.” – Carter G. Woodson, The Mis-Education of the Negro
Poetry’s Sorrow
Poetry’s a soldier
a collection of Spoken Words in Silent Wars
rarely do you see it pull back
retreat
it is no coward
it’s weapons are raw
yet healing
but there is pain
hidden behind the curve of personifications,
alliterations
and similes there is sorrow
if poetry has one weakness it is this:
that most won’t understand what they think they know
for many, poetry’s just a quick fix for that euphoric feeling
like good sex coming from your words
but poetry is wise
and it knows those who will never conceive
in order to give birth to a revolution….
Language of the Broken Hearted
Felt it was my job to hold every heart in my hands like responsibilities so I cradled you….
until our tears became waves of passion too deep to carry in a bowl
so they filled up our futures like child play
did we let deception play its numbers on our skin?
did we let it gamble with our bones…..
did naiveté captivate our common sense…..
did we know that our mission had a reason too deep to find within the contours of our childlike smiles?
HAPPY 100th to The PBS Blog!
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The Innocence of Children
“Wish I could capture your laughter in a bottle, and breathe in its beauty when I’m out of breath.”
The PBS Blog 