Hip Hop Poet

Give us a poem that celebrates

     struggles

     that cuts like a revolution that won

     that would sing at the top of its lungs

     FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST, THANK GOD

     ALMIGHTY, WE CAN NOW SEE THROUGH ALL THIS

     BULLSHIT!

sample it, in a rubba dub style, with Fela

leading the way, blowing humancentric
imagery out of his sax, THIRD WORLD LOVE!
oppressed people are going to be heard, don't
care if the 21st century is prerecorded
to look like, Europe, Simi Valley, Rush St.,
or the intersection at Milwaukee and Damen Avenues

spitting out words of wisdom
like flying knives
answers and questions will be heard
during the wine and cheese segment
of the program

rescue Jesse, drag him out from behind that
window with dirty knobs, cuz he will never
be effective sitting down

redefine blackness, the way Miles, Hendrix,
Baraka, Angela and P-Funk did; don't become
frozen in time with negritudeness,
"I've known rivers. I've known rivers, like a pick
stuck in aa whacked azz afro poem..."

acknowledge the world and its many colors
and you will be immeasurable Hip Hop baby
in due time you will be dug by all, saying shit like,
"You know, he's a genius."

avant gardists will be forced to put down
their guards 'bout what is art and what ain't art,
mono-ethnic acting snobs...

while you return back to the hood

you, with your three foot nappy fade

and multi-colored juju beads

you like an inner city buzz word now

     a breath of fresh air

a Hip Hop baby, a real family man.