Becuz, We Did That
We sit back,
backs pressed to chair-backs,
wondering,
what happened back then?
Back when free was
more than a four-letter word,
and air was more than
exhaling during a day,
filled with more drama
than dance.
What did we do…when we could
(really) do it?
Carefree doesn’t come close to the
feeling of:
fuck it, we got this—
in the face of insurmountable odds.
When we dared the Grand Canyon
to stay put,
just so we could attempt to jump it.
Unwise, the world told us,
as we responded:
we are brave warriors,
when did you find cowardice
so comforting?
There were no limits to
what imagination held;
as those holdings became goals,
because our favorite English teacher
told us: “Goals are better than dreams—“
So we used that term instead,
and called ourselves,
smart, brave, and goal driven.
When running was
the only way to get to the destination,
and the race was constantly on;
as plastic, Payless shoes melted
on hot cracked concrete.
Walking is for suckas and old folks,
ya’ll know nothing of young sweat!
(too youthful to stink—or so we thought)
(we had not yet begun to “smell ourselves”)
We played basketball in summer’s sunshine,
at the neighbor’s house, or up the block
at the rec center. We fought, and cussed,
said fuck
you bitch to the rec worker, just before
getting our passes revoked, and being banned
for at least a week.
At older siblings’ apartment we,
jacked the pizza man, because we was broke,
young, roguish, and hon-gree.
Cars became a new freedom
as the strip and lake on Sundays
became havens for adult activities,
(we ain’t had no business even attempting)—
but we did that shit in style.
Glistening rims on freshly washed
candy apple, painted cars,
we was ridin’, rat-packin’, fo’ deep’
with fo-deeze under tha' seat,
because we was creepin’ from 5-0.
And then we graduated; faded and fucked up,
we hit ‘em up,
as we pranced across the stage;
eyes red, and a “J” just under our
card-board, diamond-shaped, grad-brim.
We partied as the bass slammed eardrums,
we were young, didn’t care about decibel
levels,
hell we passed science with a
solid, muthafuckin’ C—
“hurry hurry, time is passing”…
I remember those wise words of the science
teacher
who definitely taught us more than just the
periodic table, and elements of nature.
She taught us the elements of life
as we sauntered to sixth period…
“hurry, hurry, time is passing”…
yea it is, yea it is.
it is only now, how much we realize
just how much…
We sit back,
backs pressed to chair-backs,
wondering,
what happened back then?
….hurry, hurry,
time
is passing.
Unintentionally intimidated…
Initiated into
open stages where
differing points
could be heard like
conversations at the corner store
or parking lots after
poetry sessions
smokin’ good green,
puttin’ green puffs high,
into the atmosphere.
Felt the same vibe
would happen on
nights where musicians gathered;
would feel warm,
would feel welcomed,
would get that
excited feeling of
walking into your homie’s basement
ready to record
your dopest thoughts…
but it didn’t happen,
Unintentionally intimidated.
Where the inner-child
jumped up in awe,
yelled hell naw
I ain’t following that—
not as good as that cat—
let me pack,
take a last puff off your square,
I ain’t goin up there,
but let me take that last listen
to that bad ass high hat,
grab my little sax….
and split,
shit I ain’t as good as that cat
Unintentionally intimidated
When something inside of me
snapped and broke,
causing a crash and burn
effect on the inner workings
of all things that made me, me
Was like,
I became Rip Van Wink
when ever I got close to the ink;
even penning poetry
became a chore,
attending open mics, a bore
I could no longer stand my reflection,
had no idea what my psyche
had in store,
I had become unintentionally intimidated
Until one night,
gathered my nerve like I used to do;
grabbed up my back-pack, notebooks
and went completely old school—
grey hairs perking up
as my head’s hair follicles
of the conscience nation
began tearing at the
unintentional intimidation
elevating my self-esteem information,
so by the time I reached the place,
I was ready to go
face to face with all the faces facing the stage…
Truth is,
I had to man up, or poet up, or musician up
Had to remind myself that
I am the greatest, I am, that I am.
I am only in competition
with myself—
And with that realization
the only unintentional intimidation,
is with that gorgeous reflection I see,
so I’m learning to leave the pressure behind and
embrace the beauty
