Friday, March 11, 2011

An Untelevised Revolution (J-R Original)

I'm the ghost the system tied to bury under
FBI files deemed "communist" wanting only to drink from fountains
where bold letters of COLORED were figments of our imagination
See my imagination kept me free through my state of mind's eyes
Through my state of mind's eyes
I wasn't kneeled down between thorn bushes dragging
a thin material bag of hope filled with cotton even though
my brown eyes could see the pain on my feet shuffling down
rows of soil, cut fingers dripping feared jungle blood
soak stain the very cotton leaving my hands
to imprint a legacy on the white man's fabric

I'm the ghost the system tried to bury feeling
the warmth of other suns as my people attempt to migrate
away from their life's shames
the entity of their core, their pride, their joy--gold, mahogany, dark dipped skin
the very essence of making them human, the very thing deeming them UNhuman
running from themselves only to find there's nowhere to run
are we not all God's children individually scripted for a purpose above the tides?
Across continents all reaching for a relationship with God seemingly out of reach
for reasons within us that could easily be replaced with the fruits above us
the heart its own entity with words yearning to seep, hardly listened to

I'm the ghost the system tried to bury on
the urban streets of Harlem--aspiring artists, writers, activists stepping proudly
in renaissance Im the ghost the system tried to bury talking amongst
Langston Hughes, Richard Wright and Fredrick Douglas about how things
used to be be, how things are supposed to be
when the word fueled us and knowledge motivated us
to be the best, speak the best
reach beyond the double consciousness limits
walking in the direction of authority and grace
a leveled head to the sky instead of a lowered head to the pavement

when culture meant picking up every book you could
to know the theories of the most articulate
dressing not to impress but to signify
I am me, I am here
to pave he way for the young glories of the streets, thinking
rapping a catch phrase is the only means to success
female silhouettes behind pixels thinking
naked images are the means to accomplishment
Check your consciousness because you have two
to be an American and to be you
I'm the ghost the system tried to bury and
I live in you