1.30.2013
clason point starving
Look at the 46 2 story houses
With front and back yards
Pinnacle of public housing
In the capital of the world
Should be declared a historic district
Where its residents celebrated 75th anniversary
With trips to Hot Millz for dolla dutches and frozen nemos
Hard to find fossils
When the authority sweeps and dumps all the guts
From last night’s remnants
All the highlights won’t have slo mo replays
From multiple angles just telephone
Rumors embellished louder than the next version
Unbiased according to local block legends
Who expired too soon
Believing myths created by concrete
Blocks designed to promote sense of ownership
When we don’t even lay claim
To every piece of lane twisted around itself
Wondering how the sunrise is so beautiful
In a view with sounds of shots
Fired at rivals bringing still raw beef
To late cookouts
Hardly any more hand to hand
Must employ next door neighbors as a lookout
Break off a piece of proper special package
Neighborhood watch feels sense of obligation
To maintain serenity of bake sales
Southeast part of Bronx right off Bruckner
Beginning of BX river parkway close proximity
To dirty 43rd Amadou’s spirit urges
You to identify yourself verbally
Before reaching for deadly wallet
Contained government issued ID
Will cuff you before stop and frisk
Right as about to go to the store for a glass of milk
Leaving yucky aftertaste
Where there should only be cavities
From too many penny candies
Inflated tenement wishes
Of sour power patch of land furnished
With ancient trees back to swampy farms
Western capitalism has usurped
Island vibes in a community based off
How fast and efficiently and silently is your hustle
Develop muscles from pulling your brother
Up by broken bootstraps caught in traps
Like rats who pack buddies
Searching for devil’s crusty bread
To make a warm grilled cheese
To accompany wonton soup
Sometime you gotta troop in order to find bags
Still lumpy with truth
Heavy with lies pungent odor
Grind will give
You sudor salty across beaten brow
No more pioneers holding keys to food
Western has found various ways to butcher the cow
Rack of ribs ready to be marinated
Easy to be sedated
Harder to stay awake
When your homies put you to sleep
Over the braggadocio you speak
Practice what you teach
How far can you reach
Gather as much as you can grab
Give me dap but don’t stand too close
For fear you might stab my crucial air
Needed to chew savor every molecular morsel
Mere mortals who stand in the middle
Of a seesaw trying to maintain balance
After numerous bitter shots to liver
Trying to filter all the waste
How safe is this place
Where everybody knows your name
Along with entire personal history
But if you put on that right beat
Even the most chiseled gangsta will tell you their story
Precise immaculate flow
Here we go again back to where we from
When knowledge is born
Innocence doesn’t contemplate a gun
1.22.2013
who will believe if you don't
Reality is Duality
How does it feel looking through the veil
Mostly cloudy obscure bulletproof glass reflection
Behind fried food in front of fanatical freedom
Too much America blanca not enough brown Latinos
Yet sometimes poquito is just enough
Sofrito suave never rough as it blends the spices
Sensory memory still got the melodies
Bassline right underneath tongue right
Razor sharp redefinition rewriting
Claims to authenticity based on
Handed down horrorscopes focused
Assassinating any attempt to overcome apathy
Ever after hardly happily more like tragedy
Right before understanding shortcomings
Of country conditioned by conquerors
What is the leftover you were saving to throw away
Today’s possibility faded soon as sunset parked in sky
Night time will reveal all the details hidden
Didn’t think your stories could be written
So crowd could listen to visions
Putting you somewhere different
Paranormal position opposite of ultra regular
Must think better of self than exotic muck
Stop selling short
So quick to go broke
Where is that heavenly buck
unlearn your colonialism
What is the praxis in your practice
Sum it up to how you been acting
Professional regurgitation such elation
Can’t be waiting cooped up droopy synopsis
Of the ellipsis exhibited prohibited
Wish the moments weren’t temporary
Fleeting meeting sunnier horizons pictures
We could capture add up everything
Dying slowly but you keep living
Despite earlier warning signs keep grooving
Fortuitous timing forever shining reminded
Of simpler days when politics were background
Scandal spinning in circles to take a two step
Dizzy on the balcony
Close enough to see eagles attempting to
Attack your character antagonize pimp game
What remains how can you withstand
Why did you punch me with no regard
To my disparate emotions
No disclaimer to my party armor
Explaining why did you rage
All the excluded details minus the stink
Bring yourself to the brink imbalanced
While you still drink the blood of ancestors
Who carried you
Taught you to believe
Your sangre as religion
love is the remedy
all that love confused running out of crib
searching for what is right in front of face
in that case crib shall be the salvation
how could you never be inspired
by your son's cries
wipe the tears from your eyes
so much more to see
push him to run free
no need to hold hand will be able to run
find his purpose searching between cracks
what you lack is proper perspective
enough to get the crowd going on your better behalf
so worldly
yet only been right around the block
homing device from
fried chicken bacon wrapped bubbleguts
so nervous who to trust
only wife and child few blesseed brothers
sharing blood experience sweat
defeat regret come up come back
like never left every day
pass life's test be the best you can
possibly raw roaring loud lion of judah
everything you do for jeem & pupa
doesn't matter how many mics you can rip
can you possibly put your son to sleep
no crying only gentle rocking
jazz serenading a lullaby to close those eyes
searching within yourself for a proper groove
no need to choose
we just wait for you
to keep breathing laughing running pointing
talking loving hugging
big baby fang
lil Amari Anthony Mohan Morales
never want you to have the burden of my shame
no chips on shoulders
violent temper tantrum
all attitudey for no exact reason
just be going through those blues
digging off that funk
without regaining inspiration for your rhythm
about to do so much
with what we provide
steaming will drop regeneration from the sky
those words you speak
will be beautiful harmony
luxury to make tomorrow shine
reminded of simpler days
when any beef was a Mami burger
how much have we grown
keep pushing the world further
don't let anyone define your identity
whenever you are stressed
love is the remedy
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