Dear Music

Dear Music,

I once loved all that you had to offer. The artistic beauty with the movement of your rythmic notation and your inspiring words of sexual embrace and life's worthiness. You
taught me things that my parents could not like how to love, be in a constructive reslationship, how to worship, how to love myself, and that have obstacles. You showed the world talents of great artists like Aretha Franklin, Michael Jackson, Al Green, Luther Vandross, Whitney Houston, Billie Holiday.



You gave street love a new look with youngsters telling the world their life stories with gangbanging, living in poverty, hood life, new skills in the game came present with artists like Warren G, Tupac, Notorious BIG, Dj Quik, Dr. Dre, Snoop Dog, Nutty by Nature.


Yet over the years music you have changed. The things that were fly, artistic, inspiring, loving, and romantic has become sex orientated, degrading, and irresponsible.. Songs like lets get Jerking, Geeked Up, Pop Lock and Drop It, Pussy Poppin on a Hand Stand, Look Back At It. Artists like Trina and Lil' Kim are telling the world how bad they pussy is and how far down a dick can go down their throats. You have artists like Game degrading women and putting them as whores and easy. Or 50cent with a theme park of sexual activites and how a girl can benefit him.

Women are now not unworthy music especially Black women who either do whatever they are told like bend over girl show me wat u working with or being called whores because they are using sex to get in a man's music industry by wearing damn near nothing on music videos, degrading themselves and their families like vidoe vicines Michelle Ford and Super Head or letting men run them over for the sake of being ran over.


What happened music. Things used to be great when you had meaning and I don't mean the beats and instrumental enhancements of modern technology of computer usage such as T-Pain but the misleading music by the young and the old like Soldier Boy with him singing songs of ejaculation on a female's back and when the speciment is drying you place a sheet on her back and push her off of the bed and let her fly like superman. Like is this seriously music?

Do I honestly want my children listening to this nonsense and call it music? Music is artistic words and creative music coming together for popular view. Yes, economically that song or many of the songs stated are well with high volumes of ring tone sales and single downloads or album sales; but is it music?

Does it having meaning? Does it show character, optimism? Does it show creativity? Does it embrace life's goods and bads that young people cannot learn from their parents?

Or has music become an industry of money and no longer about good music? In which popularity of whatever nonsense can be expressed is beneficial to the public's view?

Damn music I once loved you but now I'm a little scared but there are people who are still trying to hold on to the true music like Musiq Soulchild, Beyonce, Common, Lupe Fisasco, LL Cool J, Mary J. Bildge, Lauryn Hill, Rahyeem Davon, Neyo, Ciara, Ashanti, Mariah Caery, Rhianna, Chris Brown, Ginuwine, Jill Scot, Angie Stone, Keisha Cole

Well I guess ill just keep listening to them because I don't know what's going. But when you get this please respond back,

Sincerely,
The Word to the Wise

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Homegirl

I’m trying to figure out when it became cool to hate.
When it became acceptable,
almost expected of you
to look the girl that walks passed you
up and down,
mentally approve or disapprove of her outfit
and hair
then verbally sign the verdict slip
by discussing your findings with your homegirl
walking beside you.

The same homegirl that nine times out of ten
you say degrading phrases about to the next person,
making them “promise” not to go back repeating your words.
& if you don’t make them “promise”
then almost positively
when you are confronted about it, you deny it.
All the while, preaching to the ones doing the same to you
“If you have somethin’ to say, say it to my face!”
Making that bold front you put on, convert to italicized
because now you are leaning towards hypocrisy.

Put your head on straight,
because if you keep carrying your nose too high,
it is going to make it difficult to follow your path.
There is a difference between conceit and humble confidence.
One is unflattering, while the other earns appreciation.
Instead of being self-praising by putting yourself on a pedestal,
put the pedestal in the hands of others,
and see who then places you on top.
Earn your respect through acting in a fashion that
silently demands it.

There is a point of realization, and a destination of change.
I do not blame women personally for having such an underlying
deceitful and conniving manner of dealing with others.
Primitively, we are all descendants of Eve, right?



Stormi J

Photo credits to Google Images

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Betrayal

Comes from so many sides
When someone I love so much
Cares so little
It brings a tear to my eyes
Makes me want to stop the giving to avoid the taking
Stop being real to avoid the faking
Stop flying to avoid the fall
Wishing that I had real friends that would take me for my mistakes
Not judge, but look out for me
When it seems I am ready to fall
Love is not their life
Life is their love
But these girls stay rocking their fuck me pumps
And I’m sick of being apart of their Gucci bag crew
Where are the womyn that love themselves
And want more than new shoes?
Quick gratification
Inconsiderate and useless
Giving the clothes off my back
With nothing in return
But a lonely sigh and an emotional burn

Some girls want to pretend that they know this guy
And are with this man
Although, he may not be the man with the plan
Why waste your time trying to be Miss Popularity
People love you one minute and leave you the next
Like a man
Like a one nightstand
Part time people
Part time friends
Bad things
And just as well all good things must come to an end

--Miki

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Longing for more than a ho

Divorced from society, but yet still engaged to a black lady,
A woman who took my heart and began to raid me,
And my wallet, and my secret stash of koolaid, but most of all my soul,
That damn woman would just not let go,
No she was not a prostitute, a stripper, but rather a ho
Her eternal strength was greater than mine,
She pissed me off but she was still so damn fine,
She sold her body for a mere dime,
The weave she left on the table, the dishes, and in my underwear drawer,
Made me cringe, but damn I wanted more,
But I needed a connection deeper than the roots of an evergreen tree,
Emotions entangled with deceit, lies, and in the middle we,
We begin to shadow our hearts with shades of black,
A curtain concealed my emotions from wanting her back,
But yet, I still wanted her hips, her thighs,
To interlock with my eyes,
But even more, I wanted the sea our hearts swam in to be blessed by God's love,
I wanted something deeper; more meaningful than video vixen but naked in my hot tub,
I wanted love; love without restrictions,
Love without painful, heart-burning convictions,
I sat confused, dazed, in a state of "what do I need,
"I had a woman who could "pop, lock, and drop it" but I needed one who could read,
Read the chapter's of my heart without ever stopping to bookmark the pages,
Flip chapters and leave twist my heart's gauges,
I realized I wanted her to swing like a pendulum back and forth, but not on my lap,
Rather on my mind because of her intellectuality wrought with divinity was a wrap,
A wrap of complexity, love for God, and a heart and body pure,
A sexy walk, but more a confident woman who is sure,
Someone to caress my hands, my back, my feet,but most importantly my heart,
Nurture me with her sweet melody and pick up my mind like some socks from Wal-Mart,
I question if she exists and if my heart will ever be quenched,
Will I be forever confused and benched?

Nathaniel Statistic

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SESAME STREET (IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK..)

She waits silently as he violently lays hands on her mother
Covers the eyes of her baby brother
Chanting that through the bruises we still love each other
WE-STILL-LOVE-EACH-OTHER!
‘Cause God says we supposed to have love for one another
No matter what happens we should weather the storm
Whether it is on point or far from the norm
Whether if it does or doesn’t get better
We should stay strong even if this goes on and on
We should be tough as raw cow hide LEATHER
Stick together like a pole and a tether
Never let anyone see the hurt
Never let anyone see that the relationship doesn’t work
Never let anyone see a wrinkle in the fabric of our life’s shirt

My mother told me,
“Stay level-
We live on Sesame Street and me and your father are Ernie and Burt
Even though sometimes baby, he can be a grouch
Mama stays strong when he becomes a monster for your mother’s cookies
And you should be too and should cover your ears and pretend you didn’t hear your mother say ouch…
And if we’re in the room arguing and he hits me because he’s been drinking
I want you to take your baby brother and go into the living room and hide behind the paisley couch
And try to go to sleep or hum him a tune to keep or rather block the monstrosity of this reality out”
And I would try to hum but the arguments were too loud
My baby brothers tears soaking up my blouse
Like a stream letting out to the ocean
My brother and I of the same notion just two different bodies
Two of the same boat, both of us floating
On the winding river of catastrophe
Going through the motions like we’ve done so many times before
Because mama’s too proud to open her mouth
So we suffer
Suffering right next to the door of a better life where someone on the other side called “HELP” knocks but she ignores
Earplugs in while she sleeps, even snores
On opportunity for something more
Then Maybelline covered eyes and arms that bear sweaters in the summertime
And sweat pours from her pores of abuse she’s become used to misuse
Which by now is Old news

Which by now is an Old noose and she hangs like strange fruit
And we-
Hang with her because when she ruined her life
She ruined ours too…

BY: TRUTH B REAL

(STOP THE VIOLENCE A TRIBUTE TO DOMESTIC VIOLENCE)

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MR. DISSAPPOINTMENT

Now disappointment has stood in my doors frame
Knocking
For over 18 years
From before I was born
To the countdown months to my 19th year
Vapors of angst well in my eyes like red clouds of danger
Swimming fierce like sharks between my ears
Sharply turning
Hitting corners of my head constantly

Clammy hands clutching frantically at the doors handles to hopefully pull it shut

When disappointment gets impatient and yanks my door open with a fury
I stand there surely
With a strong stance
Opposing opposition
Standing face to face with disappointment
Toe to toe with disappointment
So close that if the screen door did not stand between us we’d surely kiss

I told you disappointment likes to come over my house and chill
Like nobody’s business, way past forever, hoping till infinity
That I’ll allow him to stay

He don’t get the message at the door
The angry eyes
The strong stance

Last time he came I told him to never come again
Cuz he had left my house in shambles for me to pick up the millions of tiny pieces
That fluttered in my house like dust in the mid morning summer sunlight
& as I swept them out with the broom of self control
I put my foot down & shook my finger right in disappointments face & told him,

“No More”

“You can’t chill at MY house,” I said
“You can’t eat up my heart for food.
You can’t sleep in my bed & keep me awake all night”
Telling him quick
Like an R KELLY track,

“I don’t know where you going,
But you gotta get the hell up outta here!!!”

& ever since he found out I wasn’t goin’ to be his side kick
His snack
His side dish
His meal his desert his night cap
Giving him words that cut deep with bad hurt
Letting him know with a finished answer that it ain’t gon’ work
And ever since
He been seen a little less and a little less coming back

Truth B Real

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Modern Day Lynching

Modern day lynching of these lil’ nigger children
This time it isn’t white men with white masks
But white men in police uniforms

These lil’ nigger children shot
So pitiful…..

Bang! Bang! Bang!
3 bullets to the chest

But it doesn’t stop there
No more tarring and feathering
Now it is 10 bullets to the head and chest

These police officers have created there own lynching
When will it end?
Never!

Because with times progression
Nothing has changed
But the material possession of a Black man

Face is still Black as night

Enough to be considered a threat
Enough to be chosen as the next candidate
For this modern day lynching

Jena 6, targets for this modern day lynching
Its 2008
Only thing changed
Is no more hanging on trees
Now its being hanged by an all white juries

Shawn V.

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