Artwork by @_rayjohnson_ 🎨
Tell the mothers that heaven is beautiful, remind them of walls covered in ivy and the smell of lavender and lilacs and chicken fried on a gas stove, their sons will eat good at the table. Whisper he is forgiven in her ear and pray to God in apologies, don't look her in the eye when u kiss her cheek, that is still her son's job, hand her a dish towel and let her pat her own face dry of tears and sweat while she beats steaming potatoes like she is mashing his killers face to death in a pot she can control
for whom the bell tolls is why she weaps
this shit was her sister in law just last week.
It was her mother when her brother died summer 2004
It is her neighbor, who's license plates read "Mi amore"
Somebody come tell the mothers that heaven is beautiful.
Shit, somebody come tell the whores.
Tell the fathers .
Tell the pimps.
Tell the dealers.
Tell the worker.
Tell the church.
Tell the scientist.
Tell the law.
Remind them of walls covered in ivy, and the scent of lavender and lilacs and chicken fried on a gas stove, their sons will eat good at the table. Whisper he is forgiven in her ear an pray to God in apologies, don't you look her in the eye when u kiss her cheek, that is still her son's job
The blade that killed him hasn't been found.
Tell her the walls are covered in ivy.
His baby mama sold that car
Tell her it smells like lavender
His mama ain't doing no more interviews
Tell her they frying chicken and he's eating good. Tell her he has a seat at the table
And when she asks you when he'll be home, you make sure to tell her that heaven is beautiful.. But will never compare.
Thank you for having me. Always a complete honor. Your family is so sweet and genuine. Your ability is so inspiring. Your humility is a lesson.
The oddness in the sky matched the color of the hickies on my side.
I think the rain owes me a kiss on my mouth and the world only belongs to lovers
I think power lies in the eyes of its beholders and beauty is as beauty does and is all will ever be when u are either lonely or in love or in love and in love
But they will explain away circumstance and I will find another way to keep myself from him
Cause love how we love doesn't fix with proclamation
More like threats and crocodile tears
But we mean it
We rehash as if yesterday is still between the teeth,
Or this linen
You have never been here but I wanted you to be,
Does that count for something?
Love how we love is
A-typical not typical not in type not always reciprocal a mental hieroglyphic a glitch with a kill switch
Love how we love can't be explained, contained, I've tried I don't want to but maybe I do love you like you need me to maybe you love me like I want you to, we just don't know what that would feel like
Love how we love could last forever or ten minutes..the length of an argument with no end
I give up on you
You have no patience with me
Love how we love
Is quiet at dusk and war at 3
a.m.to be specific it don't matter the time
A strike of pink in the skyline reminds me of your tongue outlining my flesh
The rain bouncing off of the wet asphalt sounds like an invitation to get my face wet
The moon is screaming for me to count to ten.
But I cannot play with how I love him.
Cedar Grove 11/30
I've left so many of my fingerprints on the city bus windows, that if you were to go back and dust them you would know more about me than I've ever said.
Becoming a woman at a dollar and fifty cents a fare, the evidence of that meandering through boulevards I could never forget that names of,
my memories vaulted in terminals after midnight.
I've stood at bus stops under street light and prayed with a cigarette hanging from my lip like I was at sunrise service for one.
There is so much God in these streets.
The saints wear badges from the yard and the angels adorn scrubs
Purgatory is filled with aprons, and sunken eyes and strollers and hustlers . .
Our codes as smudged and detoured as the routes we chose
down for the ride and forever imprinted
like the graffiti on the sides of the trains at the port and HRT buses
Like Rosetta Stone to the touch
Braille for the eyes that see but don't look.
My deliverance could never silence this testimony.
I learned how to become at a dollar fifty a fare,
There and back.
She a 🐺
That's the situation.
The lyrics to can I live, cut the air like a razor on the corner of a sandwich bag 'While I'm watchin every nigga watchin me closely
My shit is butter for the bread they wanna toast me
I keep my head, both of them where they supposed to be
Hoes'll get you sidetracked then clapped from close feet
I don't sleep, I'm tired, I feel wired like codeine, these days
A brother gotta admire me from four fiends away'
Mostly, u just feel like the shit when u spit it, the words be clicking, in general syntax matched with snapbacks, passion and alliteration, drip off ya lip like you wrote it, hall of faming , Songwriter's guild, no Willy Wonka, he prefer it when u call him William and he came to conquer
The first Kendrick Lamar song I ever heard was the Heart part 2 gotta say it like a poem, cause that's what a poet gotta do 'Sitting in the studio thinking about which mood would go
Right now, freestyle or write down, whatever
It still'll come up clever
I just need to free my thoughts, and Lord knows that I know better
But I ain't perfect, I ain't seen too many churches
Or know them testament verses
You should either hear me now or go deaf
Or end up dead, die trying and know death
Might end up dead, swallow blood, swallow my breath
Fuck a funeral, just make sure you pay my music respect nigga
I mean that from the bottom of my heart
You see my art, is all I have
And victory tastes sweet, even when the enemy can throw salt'
Shook my world apart. Cause I'm not afraid to die either. I Kno evil. Just give me my shot.
The Streets is Watching and the butterflies been pimped
Grammy's and Pulitzers is up for dibs... Did a dope boy and a blood get us here?
Sallie Mae, girl.... yous in trouble, bitch
She a 🐺
That's the situation.
1.5/30... (A verse)
I forgive Chris Brown.
If I'm in the car..or cleaning the house, and I'm all alone and a R Kelly song slithers from underneath the rock of social banishment and into the hands of a deejay thats gotta have it and it plays on the radio during a mixoff
I sing it.
At the top of my lungs.
It could be step in the name of love.
I wanna say, too..my favorite episodes of the Cosby show were the annual birthday performance to Dr. Huxtable from his family. .
An episode that stands out grandly is the one, where a proud Rudy with no teeth lip sync belts the bridge in a Ray Charles song like Margie had coached her herself
I really wanted a dad.
I ended up in chorus.
I thought college was gonna be a Different World, forreal.
We was out Norfolk
I wonder if Rhi designed fenty because the tattoos aren't enough cover-up over the scars she can't stop seeing.
Was she slipping underneath weak foundation.
if that trophy wife highlight on her cheekbones was supposed to make me forget the night a trophy wife became a heartthrobs punching bag,
If her swag is armor.
if her weight gain, endless blunts and flasks are tell tale enough..
That it all still hurts.
As beauty does.
Cause I notice ,
Chris Brown don't sing too many ballads no more
He is a heartbreak on a full moon,
Through tweet and post
Other than Royalty
Doesn't boast of any success he's had since
Locks himself away, only hops out to put on and when he does
He dances frenzied to everything. As if slowing down would somehow become a reminder.
That he used to sing love songs
That she is over there, because of him.
And that he is not because of him.
Empire kinda nailing it with the Hakeem shits.
Like was Breezys dad a Lucious?
Mommy a Taraji?
I forgive Chris Brown