Having   


met you

in Barbados

while

walking

on the beach,

I observed
foamy

blue

water

caressing
your
quiet
feet.
Our eyes
became
entangled
in more
than a casual way
We ended up talking —

walking
down
the
beach

that

day
But
I won’t even front,
even if
I
could

because
it

was

that

God

given
complexion
that
arrested
my
attention
on
that
warm
Bajan
day.
It was
your
countenance
over
conversation
carried

by
the

wind,
It was
your

natural

vibe

reviving
my soul

again

With your

alluding
to

the facts

as

you

understood them

then;

and
that I should rise up to confront

life….

And…
that things would turn out better

if I did.

From then to now

and

now

and

then

it

has
been
simply
unspoken

a bond

unbroken
holding us

together

as friends…

Now married to you….

thirty two years later,

we walk together

again…

Having met you
on

a
beach
in
Barbados.

End.
For Lisa

If this doesn’t apply to you don’t trip but if it does, then this is my little jingle for you. 😎

Rippin [the disclaimer]

This piece will not be begged, borrowed or shanghied son no not beat up sifted whipped nor spun it is my intellectual property and my physical property too so it shant be quoted sampled or quipped or otherwise fucked with.

Enjoy the day.

Sincerely, Kawika.

Picture @Pinterest

#rippin

#blackeagledream

All rights reserved.

Copyright

May 6th, 2017

To You

Surrounded

by the
memories
that
persist
on
any
given
day,
squeezes the hurt,
out
comes
the pain.

We could use
a
little
time
for
ourselves,
to
get
away.

Talk things out,
have
our
say.

Reflecting back
on
the life
that
we
have
lived,

we
shared
our
tears,

we
know
our
sins.

Individual
or
collective
we
stand
or
fall.

S
t
r
i
p
p
e
d

to
the
soul,
i
bare
it
all.

Closest
to me,
are
the
ones
that

I

have
hurt
the most.

A
burden
I
carry,
forever
to
hold,
for
failing
to
be
the
friend
that

I….

should

have

been;

to

you.

For Lisa

When Love and Justice meet

image

PART ONE

The

killing thing America

is that it happens everyday,

this meet and greet

promoting self

and

hate.
You with your maniacal
and twisted dream
Deny,
deny,
denied,
has long been your battle cry

Like

a

closed society

where

cash is king

and

lying

a repetitive act of normalcy

But I digress

Breaking news, this just in….

CNN is ablaze

and Don Lemon

we are amazed,
that you do what you got to do,
albeit a tan in a can
to quench a nation
long transfixed
by color
and race.

Speaking of Talib Kweli,

Oh Don please,

its best you let the brother be

else he might take pen to pad

if you make him mad

and he gonna have to e, e, ether-ize you, up in this piece.

PART 2

The police got that

strong arm twist,

but that just got the people pissed

and they ain’t trying to hear that shit anymore.

There is no justice in America today, not now,

not tomorrow,

not yesterday.

With all this show of force

with weapons

and

scopes

What did you prove?

What did it show?

You told on yourselves and now people see,

you ain’t right,

and

never
will

be.

PART 3

True justice,

she neither

be

burdened

nor blind

but it appears

some you white folk
may
have
gouged
out
her eyes

And even though

you

be

you,

and

I be me,
and
then,
we,

being us,

being she,
being he,

we being

all cast

from that

all mortals tree;

then why is it we refuse

to embrace

the reciprocal nature

that love,

in common with justice would bring?

If only we. . . .
Despite your introspective sighs
the people continue to cry / sing.

What justice?
What peace?

This will never be.
Not as long as the powers that be, continue

to dominate

his brother to his injury.

So then
why then is it so hard
for people
to conceptualize
to recognize
the real issue at hand;
and the
universal ramifications
for us not
respecting
history
nor accurately
discerning
where we are
in
the
stream
of
time?
End.

Scars and Dreams

image

Compelling
are
your
eyes
as
they
softly
speak
with
me.

With a slight nod of the head
I
return the hello
and
immediately
i
could
see,
your
invisible
scars
through
the
filtered
shadow
of
trees.

Your eyes offer
a question,
fluttering
like
a butterfly
outside
my
car
door.

Memories
chase
you…..
threaten to
break you…..

You glanced
an
adieu
in
my direction,
I gave you
a short smile goodbye,
you made
your
turn,
fading
into the
mid shadow
of
light.

How
was
it
I
could
see?

Your
battle
scars
and
dreams.

I have known, and often have seen that some dreams
you
pursue, and
some
you
set
free,
some
you
wear,
and
sometimes
time,
is
all
you
need.

The light
turned
green
and
you
began to drive away,
anxious
to
chase

your dreams

another
day.

Dedicated to the

Purple Rain in all of us.

Thank you,

Prince Rogers Nelson.

‘If a man dies, can he live again?’

#RIPPrince 

Picture of the lovely  Zawe Ashton.

#blackeagledream
Copyright 2016 

All rights reserved.

Measured Lines _ _

image

Style is measured
in
increments
of
time
Some
people
write
some
people
rhyme
When we’ve gone
our
words
will
remain
celebrated
or not

A
writer

a
storyteller

a
wordsmith who dreams….

it really
all
feels
the
same
with
me

Words
are
the boundary lines
of
our
very existence
our
lives
measured
in
the
path
we
take

Biggie knew

Tupac too

So yes my friends write,

and
to
yourself
be
true
yes
write
until
the
pen
does
bend
and
the
warmth
of
the
sun
is
not
felt
on
your
face
again
anymore.

We Shall Remain

Listening to the proponents of empty and redundant speech,
I sometimes often wonder who is it they could teach? About actions that pertain to honor, to promise, and to peace. Lovers of endless debate,
inside them I do see; vanity and arrogance, wrapped up nice and neat.
‘Why now?’ they flippantly ask today. Need I recall to your simplistic mind and apathetic way; for we both know if it had been decided upon by your forefathers back in the day; none could have rode that genocidal wave. So while you feign that changing the name would break your fragile hearts, we just want you to know that to us; the truth is clear, and not so far apart.
The land below, and the sky above and everything in between, belong to the One who made all things; as this is clearly seen.
Today this day, and in this time, confident we do speak; a consensus of pronouncements for all to hear and see.
It is He; the Creator, that has placed us here today,
and it is forever here;
that we 2 shall remain.

Dedicated to indigenous, native,
aboriginal peoples wherever they might be residing, thriving, and or surviving on the planet.

A special dedication to all Native Hawaiians, living at home or abroad.
We should not have to be homeless, and living in tents on the beaches of our own country. Kawika

#blackeagledream

The Billion Dollar Question

image

Why is it that you cling to painful and hurtful things; these relics of your not so distant past?

These caricatures are destructive distortions; a mockery that lives in your mind, hand crafted lies, handed down through the annuals of time.
It is intellectually antiquated, and out of step they say; but those are the hate filled lies that many continue to embrace. But now is the opportunity to look inside yourselves and see;
all the ugly things you continue to portray native people to be.

Sweet land of liberty.

The indigenous peoples of this land
are not your mascots,
for you to dress up and play; nor are they here for you to mock their culture in any other way.
So keep your honor, for your honor does not ring true; it is hollow and disingenuous coming from men like you. So either lead, follow, or get out of the way; for the time of the Mascot has had it’s day.

#blackeagledream 

Posted from WordPress for Android fasho.

Into One

image

Love weeps, blood seeps, yet the heart leaps from one desperate moment to another. It pants on to the end, an inescapable friend. When i look into your eyes it is then, and only then that i begin to grasp the mosaic of the mystery that is you.
How i do crave your body sweet;
as our bodies finally meet.
Like a flashpoint and a fire,
saturated with desire, and yes many
attempts were made, to pump those figurative brakes, but
as you can clearly see
deep inside i be; but leaving you high and dry never crossed my mind,
as i have no intention of being an honorable mention; as a lover who could not make the pretty lady sing. Falsetto tonight i bring, and it is you, and it is i, it is our souls that intertwine; as we merge our bodies and our longing into one.

I Don’t But I Do

What is it about words that grip our
souls in a
keenness of obsession?

How did we know,
when did we
first see?
It is
here,
and
or
there,
that
we
both feed.
Our
obsession.
Our
need.
Words indeed,
more a
collective desire
than of
greed.
We have been
consumed.
A force from within, not our
only sin;
for words we often endure,
and hold back in.
Words taste,
and
are like
the sound you make;
when that first bite
of well done
explodes in your face.
I too have this need;
to write,
and to feed,
all the
hunger
inside
of
me.
I don’t,
but
I do;
really
need you.

#blackeagledream 


Posted from WordPressndroid

Cinnamon Tree

image

Mankind has been melding for a long long time, peeling back lies, kinship denied, all colors truly sublime to me.
How can the many deny what they see; when they look at the cinnamon tree of we? Of course there is no such cinnamon tree, but man is like cinnamon himself; the blending of many trees on one shelf. Abrade back those layers, and you will find, your skin tone, and that of mine. Chocolate complexion, and honey dip hues, white ginger snaps there for you. So many choices, so much to see; no sense to hate on such skin deep things, for there is no advantage with you,
or me.
When you lay down and die, your people cry; just, like, mine. Cream colored lies fuel the fire, unfulfilled lives in death’s attire. One earth, one life, one hope to live, just try living it without such preconceived shit.
For we are here today, and gone tomorrow, there is no one that is exempt. Back to the dust do we fade no time for regret.
Be it the ground we lay,
or the ocean stay,
or up in the mountains far and away;
in the end the question still remains:

If a man dies, can he live again?

Time traveled, memories, pain,
time changes everything.
Everything.

End.

#blackeagledream

[Picture from Pinterest]