Mariame Kaba

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Her realtalk on the Intercept was gladness, people who just say what it is and not coat things or downplay are what keep me sane (ish). Also this poem:

i saw
three little black boys
lying in a graveyard
i couldn’t tell
if they were playing
or practicing.
— Rehearsal by Baba Lukata

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/articles/88726/imagining-freedom

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The man, the earpiece

Listen attentive, cold passive

Grumbles and work stress vents

We hear. Think. Fathom proper response

Are we close or just compliant receptacles

She decides we abide

Everyone needs another listener

Part 2 of beer raps

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Shut up to market machines and botsy. Enuff preachin’ brand loyalty, love the idolatry, iconography; bend me, fuck me, tort me for selling floor opticals.

Plug me whole and flaccid to demarcate ownership, flagrant stock slips, bishops and rooks mate quick as merges. Bizness sickness creepin on me. Roil me, confound me and spit me out deftly daftly daffy bugsy. I’m insane within members rein. Harangued on triple loony supple supplanted war trades. Foolish freaks jockey for top spot frenzy. Spendthrift follies running endless politically. Run base in ground, rouse rabble to frenzy, exigency, entropy. Lack luck and luster then shock bombs towards Idiocracy.

Too soon and easy are the ways of madspeak, newspeak. Duck duck mccluck Donald Daffy friendlies.

part 1 of beer raps

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rage in a cage for teenage accolades
rhymin’ with executive proof awaiting record deals
get laid with the contracts and seduced by label promises
with they hype with the success
every poor kid just overzealous about the big hit
make it out of breakneck straits
break beats for poverty to affluence
fuck this make due and appreciate
kids need prizes and adolescent lovely
take me as I am and break me fabulously
bright child to worker buzz bee
crush my soul and expect national loyalty

Goals I shant not follow

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  • Go back to vegetarian diet
  • Ease up on caffeine (too twitchy)
  • Stop with the random sweets
  • Only wine it up
  • Finish the books you start
  • Stop thinking about saving the world
  • Stop being angry at people for ignoring overwhelming world issues
  • Drink more water
  • More tai chi less neck cracking
  • Don’t obsess about learning Everything
  • Stop yelling at clouds

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So many thoughts so many rhythms

Are they all worth it to spew

Self-conscious spitters struggle to letitout

Are we worth it or us doubt right amount

Audience tells us

We lap up acceptance

In this age is popularity specious

I can’t tell I just spit it

Hoping words mean something in age of meaningless

Identity Gained, Morality Lost

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Little dreidels on the hillside
Little dreidels made of clay
We would play and we would spin
Then one day they went away

Lots of noises lots of sirens
Children lost amid the fog
They were told that they were special
But lies lies all along

Grownups fight grownups yell
Spent so many years grabbing
They forgot how to share
They forgot who they were

Now the children are the adults
We expect some equality
We won’t care if someone’s different
We just want all to be plain happy