runnin shoes, guided intention February 29, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 10:11 pm
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so you think you’re going to “listen and empathize”

but she tell you they ain’t time for taht

only time for runnin, runnin

so the man in her nightmares can’t catch upto her tonight.


so you think you’re going to try walking in her shoes.

those kicks made for RUNNIN!

made for takin a stomping or a hunrded

before they give up and

lose their heals and

get flipped over powerlines.


so you think you’re going to “advocate for justice”

she already speakin out on the low down dirty

to haters and mains, gangbangers and whores and anyone who

gets her some more of those runnin shoes

for her girls with nightmare men

a couple steps off.


so you think you have some “feelings to express.”

she all talkin bout it hurts.

so what else you gon say?


Schism February 28, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 1:46 pm
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your medicalized society
OD’d you on propriety.
Absent cure, you chose to reject
the pills, the talk, the placebo effect.
And later you sobered your inner voice
With a much more valid drug of choice.

Those fill in bubbles don’t correspond
To unfilled-in holes that are trying to bond
To your suffering self when they leave the souls
Of your brothers and sisters passed out of their roles.
And cutting the holes out to make them decrease
Won’t ever free you to long term release.

Your triple dosed cure brought intended effect
Without coinciding with ends they expect.
in one ear and into the brain
to use against them when you cannot refrain
from pointing out the falsified facts
While your hope is falling through the cracks.


A Mental Obstruction of Sorts February 27, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 10:10 pm
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Your mind’s maze intrigues me.

You’re a scientific mystery

Composed of dark matter, relational chemistry, and personal polarity.

Your thinking undefined is in fact a well aligned

Universe, expanding while the rest of us are closing our minds

And blindly falling farther behind.

Since no one’s mind could know what you know

Or catch your frequent overflow,

You’re threatened by a death tableau.

Your mind feels the footfalls of desperate intent

That rarely relent enough to prevent

Your mind from being homeless while it still pays the rent.

Your mind-block lets me hypothesize

But science-like tools can’t rationalize

And I’ll never see through your inner eyes.


Gonna burn that up February 21, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 2:54 pm

Never again will Lady Liberty beckon to those who need her the most.
Gonna burn up that image starting with the torch and down to the inscription:
“Give me your tired your poor.”
You aren’t the huddled masses
Up in your penthouse where you
Never feel the pain of your tired your poor who are so far below, they’re underground to you.
Gonna burn up that image starting with election fireworks and on to your ivory tower.
Let me explain a few things that you never learned
You silver spoon sucker on the low
Down in the spot light. We will
Never see you on TV without cursing under our breaths and spitting in your face.
Gonna shoot and fight and jump and rally and
Run down here on your sidewalks and streets and alleys
Around the base of your tower that we’ll pound
And destruct until you notice and decide you want to
Desert us tired and poor who you disrepresent.
You fucking Pharisee.


Your commemoration to Reggie the lifer February 19, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 9:33 pm
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You stutter and your story starts:


“He shave his head cause once you hear his story you need to look at him in a diffrent way. Now I shave my head too.”

You learned to be a man in the projects

Where noone and nothing gets or gives respects

The pushers piss in the hallways

And only disrespecting and protecting pays.

And the little Asian man who planted flowers

Got shot down one night after hours

Cuz he tried to protect the little bit of green

That represented the disillusioned dream

Of disintegrating brotherhood.

In a degenerating neighborhood


“He told me bout a lil bird in Africa that turn its head all the way round so it looks behind at the past ‘fore it head for the future.”


Your head must not turn very far

Cuz you kept on dealing after your first scar

Turned into 5 scars and a gunshot wound

And then you still weren’t attuned

To societal hurdles holding you back

Or the fact it was you who was under attack.

Turn your head around little bird.

Read through the phony, perjured words

Attend to the ancestral purview

That the war on drugs was a war on you.


“When he leave there they gonna send him out in a bag.”


Projects, gang, penthouse, prison

Were all your homes of ostracism.

You met your mentor in the hardest home

A lifer with no eyes on the prize and a lost life poem.

He gave you a smoke, a smile, and a good word

And prevented your rape when you got transferred.

Taught you to stay up late and stay on guard

When to pull your trump card and how to die hard.

Taught you in prison to trust in a brother

Cuz you’re coming from one war into another.


“I left some good people in there that never comin out.”


What February 7, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 4:33 pm
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What utensils in your cell could possibly prepare you to adapt to the change

You’ll inevitably face.

God knows your aptitude for adaptation will be challenged by life’s alterations:

Mundane changes that you stubbornly resist but then begrudgingly accept.
Your own changes that abet a better tomorrow today or that extinguish hope from the undertaking.
And then there will be the inconsequential changes that you’ll apprehend are momentous when it’s almost too late to
retract your disregard, contract for deferment, and exact the difference that’s left.

And a change will come,

More underhanded and invidious than

Your failed shanghaied suicide.

Your body beat and left for dead in Cabrini Green when you thought you’d be leaving in a limousine.

You left behind in the projects with a toddler when your dreams didn’t annex

To reality that you lost your son next

To child protection during a slumlord inspection.

But maybe that was change for introspection

Cause your inner fighting schism when they sent you to prison

Soured to fervent fatalism.

Leaving you impervious

–or so you claim–

To change.


Treetop February 6, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 10:09 pm
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The city truck came to my yard

And cut off the top of my tree.

I discern a subtle change;

The branches with leaves are more and less free.


It was cut off when I wasn’t home.

I was out buying birdhouses and a tire swing

To enhance my extrinsic existence.

My relationship with myself was a fling.


Can something new grow from the top?

Because my growth has been stuck in a rut.

They say the powerline is safe now.

But my line to the power of the sky is cut.