A Publication of the Coalition on Homelessness
In my Cellblock
Ducking suckers
And cops,
Drama never stops,
No need to be specific;
It’s prison, that’s to
Be expected-headphones on,
In my own zone
Listening to music,
Making my life terrific;
God feels your pain,
God feels your pain,
God feels your pain,
Suited and booted
In the wee hours,
Black presence means civilization building, an
essence of conscious realization.
Proof against a white hegemony dominated by
swinging circumscision.
Black presence means anti capitalist – pro
pooe, the (product of our environment.)
keeling before the representation of bloodshed
The state of surveillance; cops crashing a pool
party, Cops shooting without worry,
The grand jury-giving normative validation
to white supremacy.
Before I begin this poem …
I’d like to ask you to join me in a moment of silence …
In honor of those who died in the World Trade Center and the Pentagon
On September 11th 2001 …
I’d also like to ask you to offer up a moment of silence …
For all those who’ve been harassed, imprisoned, disappeared, tortured, raped or killed in retaliation for those strikes …
Barbaric, struggle going on among pirates…
One part poitics, the other the justice system.
Thought it was, an Illusion, tell I got lost 2 the Corporation.
Billions of dollars they make, from my Isolation from my loved ones,
And Fam. I guess, it’s really metaphorical, for supply and demand.
Every time I try 2 stand, I fall deeper into the Quicksand they
Call “system”.
There is nothing in the world
thats of a greater value to me
than you- the Black woman
mother of civilization – first
Lady of the universe to who
all praises are due!
And truly
had it not been for our
foreparents the great Kings
and Queens of Egpy, Asia,
and Africa, who gave birth
to All other nations And
taught them how to live –
Doctors confined
Inside the same open sore wounds
That they bandage up but never heal;
A Mother’s weary heart confined
Inside the knowing that the Devil’s playground
Is the only recreation that this community can afford.
God confined to a myopic dream,
Settles indifference smuggled into His creation
As a result of the humanity trying to fly too close to the sun
With no experience of the lightness that comes with being humbled.
I guess they wonder
Where I been
Searched through the Pain
To find the love inside
To reverse
I was sleep
Homeless on the ground one night
When I heard the voice of God
Come to me
And this is what he told me
He said
“You can still have a good life
As long as you don’t give up
You will suffer in life but
Don’t give up”
When we are born
Of course we want the best life
This is True
But you can’t do a thing
Until you learn 2 Love you
People gossiped and they talked about me
I was on the ground
Tapped out
Messed up
From all the pain
I felt,
If human shit on the sidewalk offends you
Think where you would crap
In the middle of the night
If you were forced to live on the streets;
If walking by sidewalk tent
Encampments is uncomfortable
For you, imagine how a 30% rent
Increase, loss of job, sudden
Hospitalization, or owner-move-in
Could pull the rug out
From under you,
There’s an
Empty seat
On muni
This bus
Has voided
And I have avoided
The fare inspector
Through the rear
Door chimney
It must be the
Holidays and the
Fare inspectors have
Grown white beards,
Gained 200 pounds
And the jingle I hear
Are coins I don’t have
Oh in my youth, I usedta tramp
the coast of California,
and mighty fun it was to camp–
though bitter cold I’ll warnya…
So thus I sought a room to let,
just somethin’ warm and cozy,
and otherwise would not have met
the lovely lady Rosie.
She ran a humble boarding house
the western side the City;
