Whatever that muddafuckin word means
Piri screamed
From the rooftop for recognition
Hoping that the stars would listen
Down these mean streets
an instant classic
For struggling Puerto Ricans
Gasping for fresh air
like coquis cantando in the city
Always bendicion mama
seeking amor from his papa
Black skin misunderstood
white man’s world
Unacceptable rhythm
No dancing no flowing allowed
Like every other action
Celebrating declaring
Life prohibited
exhibited cool barrio machismo pride
When it’s on
Time for a quick rumble
Proving size of cojones
Connected to corazon
Full of rejection turmoil
breaking back to affirm
Befeo would burn
Into bistec encebollado
On marine tiger
Merchant mission for trabajo
Yearning to run as fast as possible
From abajo
Started sticking up bars
Buy a drink for everyone on the house
Before it gets robbed
Pig’s bullet hit St Christopher
In and out flesh wound
Who knew that cop he hit back
Would die soon?
Just a Nuyorican
Trying to reach the moon
Dreaming of not dying on
A cold ghetto corner
Sentenced to 7 long times
Begging the Lord
Savior Savior please
Hold my hand
Through the belly of the beast
Got me fiend out on contraband
Determined to do the time
Not let the time do me
Only my body in prison
But mind and soul free
Hugging self kissing my own fists
Without this love
Freedom would cease to exist
When he came out made sure
No one else would live like this
Every child is born a poet
Including young Peter Juan
Words becoming butterflies
Fluttering beyond
Project buildings
Scribbling illegible manuscript
Feeling like catharsis
Almost exactly about to look it up
Finally met agent and publisher
About to hook it up
Ran immediately
Looking for Home Sweet Harlem
First draft was thrown into incinerator
Tears were the flavor
Of frustration frito
And anger asopao
Focused on future
Said
All I got is today and buncha tomorrows
if I wrote it once
I could write it again and better
Reexamined life rewrote every letter
Overcoming every obstacle
Won’t let distraction derail destiny
Released a Modern Masterpiece in 1967
Found it in Soundview Library 30 years later
Creator let us cross paths
At Agueybana en Loisaida
Where I told him in shaky trembling voice
Sir you taught me
What it is to be a Boricua
He chuckled shook my hand
said
Vaya Pa’lante Pana
Then signed my book
There is no such word as defeat
Now I’m a maestro
Who tries to freestyle wordsongs
With any beat
He taught me
To have confidence pride truth
Always a punto
After you speak
No comments:
Post a Comment