I Love You
By: Joe Hawk

Because you’re Black.
Beautiful, charming and bright.
I love you.
Because your blackness,
Is smooth, pleasant and tight.
I love you
Because your Black.
Intelligent, smart and fine.
I love you
Because your blackness,
Is sweet as perfume and mine.
I love you!

---

Illegal?
By: Momma Kemba

Don’t talk to me about being illegal…
Dong things that are against his laws.
I can do nothing illegal… when he…
Illegally brought me to this country…
Illegally raped me and my mother country…
Illegally sold his own children into slavery
Illegally castrates, mutilates and brutalizes my man…
Illegally taxes me to perpetuate his illegality.
Illegally miss-educates my children…
Illegally sends my sons to war…
Illegally against their brothers of color…
Illegally brain washes my people to a point…
 Where the believe the illegality of Amerikkk…
And the FBI… federal bureau of illegality.
Which illegally destroys our movement through..
Misrepresentation…
Infiltration…
Amalgamation.
Commits genocide against my people in the form of:
Illegal incarceration of strong black brothers…
Illegal infiltration of coke, heroin into this ghetto…
Illegal u.s.d.a. gov’ment in-spect-ted… gar-bage…
Illegal planned parenthood, tubligation coil and livas-loop. 
Illegally wipes out my culture with…
Superfly…
And blonde hair dye.
This is an illegal country…
With an illegal government…
To perform its illegal duties of…
Violating…
Degrading…
Eradicating…
Procrastinating… and
Assassinating … illegally…
Why.. he is an illegal… illegitimate… MUTHA FUCKA!

---

Breaking Point
By: Min. Farroh Shakur

Where does sanity end
And insanity takes a bend
What little morsel of pain
That brings the torrents of mental pain
Long term isolation
Brings no consolidation
Outta sight outta mind
Lonely souls look to find
Solace within a bible or quran
Listening for the choir or adan
Yet, steel doors and bars clang
Concrete walls steadily bang
With the inner screams of regret and misery
Dread and hate are lovers in this misery
Tears are of no avail
No remorse or pity cause we failed
To society’s sick morbid thoughts
With our oppression power is bought
Neo-insane asylums called prisons
But the voiceless voice nobody listens
“sorry homie! I feel ya but can’t reach ya”
in a man-made hell no one to teach ya
depression sets in cold, hard and ruthless
young souls die slow bald and ruthless
taken from our tombs
beaten savagely into a position in a womb
some strangled by a strange hand
some hung by the devil’s man
some shot from a gun tower
abuse of law, misuse of power
hog tied and left for days
leaving us to think of many ways
to die!
or kill!
To cry!
Or lay and be still!
But who cares
Who dares
To step up and shout stop!
Not giving up till true justice drops
But ya’ll don’t feel the joint
As it pops…
At the last breaking point.

 

---

Da Homeless
By Min. Farroh Shakur

Sittin’ in my box on a dirty azz mat
Police stop by just a pattin’ on his gat
Tellin’ me to move, I can’t sleep in da park.
What the hell do the care it’s getting’ dark
I’m not a criminal never ever done any crimes
I do day slave-labor paid a few dimes
I get treated like a immigrant without a legal card
I was born in this damn country
And I’m forced to live hard
If I sold drugs I might start using
Deep azz depression everywhere I turn I’m losing
I see it everyday dead bodies frozen stiff
Or laid in a dumpster in the summer time riff
I tried to get a job but I got no education
I tried for a GED but couldn’t finish registration
I been living on these streets a long, long ago
Even back in the days when the style was Afros
I got no children, my family’s mostly dead
I get put off the bus for having dreads in my head
What am I suppose to do?
Keep begging for a meal?
And ruin my last thread of dignity for a bum deal
Can you believe it, I use to work for a doctor
Now I bum quarters on State St and Proctor
It’s a lot of us roamin’ homeless and needing help
But society kills us with crooked cops and back load shelfs
I can’t believe in God so I keeps my focus…
Unwanted, called da homeless

---

Nearer
By: Shevon Elyce

My soul is infinite
I be who I am even on rainy dayz
When the world is - watching

My mind is infinite
I relish contemplation on time and space while you attempt to
Confine me to a – space
Don’t let the theme throw you
I’m speaking to you, Mr. Facist
- “Can you hear me?”
do my words pierce the
- economical – systematic –
armor you hide behind
cowering in fear because you know the day is
drawing near when
we will rise

I am the masses
“Can you see my face?”
my bronze skin, tight eyes, wide nose, thick lips, kinky hair
attesting to my

Mexican, Indian, African, Asian
- Paraphrase “Heritage”

my mother is the migrant worker who slaves in your sugar fields
my father is the Mandinka warrior stolen from his tribe to be your bus boy
my sister is the Mayan princess who now cleans your bathrooms
and my son is the Medicine Man stripped of his land by a “tourist”
yes, you know us Mr. Facist

and you will remember us 
when my mother holds you hostage
while my mother father & sister bind your hands and feet
as my sons slits your throat
you will remember us

the day is near