The funk is turned all the way up
The blues are turned all the way down
The colors of all this sound
Are dripping down the walls
And out onto the street
Ain’t that just sweet?
That place where you and I
In the park, so complete
I could sing!
In fact I will, but just a couple bars
Maybe a couple more
Maybe a couple of more bars
For this lady I have just met
And I’ll bet we’ll have the date set
Before we leave,
Say ya will, baby
Do ya need me, baby?
The way I need you?
Forgot all my blue
But I ain’t never gon’ forget you!
That’s what is true
I don’t mind thinkin’ bout you
Long as you’re thinking bout me!
What’s that smell?
Somethin’ sweet as hell!
I’m sorry y’all that’s just my baby!
Just my sweet as hell baby!
It’s ok to be jealous
But I ain’t no more!
Cause she’s mine
She’s all mine
I ain’t gon’ leave ya none
Not a drop
Not a drip
I never learned to share
Any bits of my baby
Swept up all the crumbs
Ain’t givin you shit!
I deal with a mental illness of extremes. An illness of war and peace. I wrote this poem about the sinner and saint living in me. I am in a period now where I don’t really know what faith means anymore. I feel it is neither bad nor good. Wrong nor right. I still love this poem even where I am at now. I am proud of what I write and I always will be.
These two videos next to each other have such a similar vibe. I love it.
Father, what have we done? We made black feel too black. We made pale feel too red-headed. We made the bright feel psychotic. We made the motivated feel like a disorder. We made them all feel outside of your love.
In this current season of political chaos and personal strife, I have felt uneasy; like there is little I can do to help. In the middle of all the swirling negativity, this is my prayer.
I want more grace dripping from all of my pores
more women who won’t call their own mothers whores
More men who can’t be bought at any price
men who pick up their kids and put down the dice
I want more programs for the youth after school
More teachers who think that Christ is cool
More mentors to show up at the house
More people telling me what life’s all about
I want more ambition and less politicians
More God willin and less mob villains
I want more Sunday mornings that last the whole week
Less listening to the media and more to God speak
I want more grandma’s house with fam in the woods
More family dinners with boys in the hood
More homeless men showing up to my church
More people hanging on with every verse
I need to be surrounded by those who are driven
More people who realize just what God’s given
Way less anger, terror, judgment and strife
Way more people who are willing to go all night
Give me more classic cars bumping rap from the 80s
More Marshall Mathers and less Slim Shadys
And if my brothers and sisters are headed toward hades
Give me more pastors quick who make the grade please