Wednesday, August 31, 2005
This industry is like bacteria and my flow is a germ
If Katrina was coming to Charleston, my fam would have been audi 5000 - ebonics for gotten the fuq out of dodge. But I sympathize with those who were not able to get out of town. For those at the Superdome, I know shT is real hectic right now. And there are even some fellow bloggers based in the 504 who haven't posted in a few days and I hope they are all right. There's one that I believe I will personally try to send something her way and will post details once it is confirmed that the info & addresses are legit. And all that water...it's like floating malaria. I feel for my peoples who are from down there, GLee, LatoyaW, NoraJ, and even distant cousin TLang from Mobile. And the crazy shT is that hurricane season ain't over yet, potna. I originally had some something really poignant to write, but the hurricane blues took over. My bad, yo. Maybe next time I'll gather up enough thoughts to yap about the last few days and other personal observations. And no...no deep heart-o-heart talk was held. It ain't happening. Fuq it.
It's downtown Baghdad
My condolences goes out to all of those who have lost a life in the devastation that was Hurricane Katrina. Being form SC, I can truly empathize with what it feel slike to be on the verge of losing everything - even when it's not much. I can remember the preparation in advance of Hurricane Hugo in 1989 as if it were yesterday. I also remember the looting that took place then, as itstill appears to somethign that just it.
Disbelief is the word that comes to mind. On Monday, I stood at the edge of the large pit of what was formerly the World Trade Center complex in NYC. I was in a a state of disbelief that I had been on top of the Observation Deck at one point in my life - the observation that no longer exists. Disbelief that I-10 - the same I-10 that I traveled on many times in my high school days on trips between the East Coast an San Antonio - was broken into two. There is an entire section of a fuqing interstate missing. I drove over that shT, son. WTF?!
Disbelief is the word that comes to mind. On Monday, I stood at the edge of the large pit of what was formerly the World Trade Center complex in NYC. I was in a a state of disbelief that I had been on top of the Observation Deck at one point in my life - the observation that no longer exists. Disbelief that I-10 - the same I-10 that I traveled on many times in my high school days on trips between the East Coast an San Antonio - was broken into two. There is an entire section of a fuqing interstate missing. I drove over that shT, son. WTF?!
Saturday, August 27, 2005
From the womb to the tomb, Presume the unpredictable
So this isn't really a post about much or maybe it is...
Anyways, the downtown project wrapped up well. We got a lot of work accomplished based of the vague requirements originally presented to us. Of the 5 staffers, 2 are on their way back to college, 2 more have 2 more weeks before the senior (12th) year starts, and the recent collge grad and uber developer landed himself a job (that starts next week). So basically, this entire summer was his interview.
Now on to more pressing matters, I didn't make it out of dodge until Friday afternoon and was literally on the extreme verge of calling it quits with this Baltimore trip, but I just bychance happened to hear the guilt trip message as I was checking my voice mail and let's just say it made me hop on the Mass Pike Westbound. But I damn sure didn't make it all the way down there.
I had to swing by NYC for a lil bit. So after I did my usual neighborhood stakeout on Crotona Ave, I found my cousin Freddy and caught up with the rest of the fam. Mind you, my job is gatekeeper. I keep in touch with A LOT of my family. We have sets like gangs. This is the Crotona/Fordham fam; all the Nuyoricans like whoa. We chilled for a few hours and you know I had to do the photo shoot. It was definietly good to see all of them - only one person was missing but I hear he's stepped is game up and is doing really good right now and I'm very poroud of him. We all have our differences, but we accept each other as fam and that's some real love when we get together. I need to get them down to SC soon. Hell...maye I'll kidnap them in the morning and roll down to MD with them in tow. Hmm...
So anyways, I make my way down to 147th & Lenox in Harlem to link up with my other cousin JJ. This is the cousin who just 'found' us at the end of 2004, but it's all love. The resemblance is uncanny and he's mad chill with a decent head on his shoulders. We're still bonding so I need to definitely keep in touch with him and check in on him reguarly. He's a true NYC point guard (on some Rucker shT yo. Word) with some past missteps, but still with the potential and time to do somethign with all that talent. So we shot the SHT for a few on our way to Queens to link up with my cousin (and his brother) ONION. We joked about we knew exactly how to find him and sure enough he was located withtin 5 minutes perched on park bench in Woodside projects. We chilled there for hours until about 2:30 or so and called it a night and now I'm back at my Uncle Woody's crib in Harlem pretending like I'm actually going to wake up in the morning to get my a$$ on the road in time for the cookout in Carroll Park. Yeah...we'lls ee about dem apples.
But anywas, back to ONION. I also saw my other cousin, IMPH. And don't bother asking about how they got those nicknames. I don't even know....but I do have my ideas on how. And yes, these are not some made up blogger pseudonyms. These are legitimate, go in the hood and ask for Onion and do a hooty-hoo in the right direction so yo can find him. Feel me? Anyways, it was both and bad to see him. And if he happens to search for me and reads this, then it ain't rocket science to figure out why. Making moves is a just a term for blowing smoke in the air if you ain't going nowhere but the hood. I love the streets, and sometimes, they even love me back. But more often than not, the streets are cold, fickle, unstable, and mundane. All the ceelo, blunts, shadowboxing, nigganomics, po-po, coronas, and purple haze in the world ain't meaning a damn thing in life if that's all life is about. I can say word any louder than that. But of course he wasn't really trying to hear us, so I think JJ and I will have to try to kidnap him and do our on hands-on intervention. Now I have a new source of frustration...although I was expecting 95% to see, hear, and experience exatly what we did tonight.
Through the lights cameras and action, glamour glitters and gold
I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe
When I'm deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast
to conquer peace leaving savages to roam in the streets
Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun
Trick my Wisdom, with the system that imprisoned my son
Smoke a gold leaf I hold heat, nonchalantly
I'm grungy, but things I do is real it never haunts me
while, funny style niggaz roll in the pile
Rooster heads profile on a bus to Riker's Isle
Holdin weed inside they pu$$y with they minds on the
pretty things in life, props is a true thug's wife
It's like a cycle, niggaz come home, some'll go in
Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again
From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable
Guns salute life, rapidly, that's the ritual
Anyways, the downtown project wrapped up well. We got a lot of work accomplished based of the vague requirements originally presented to us. Of the 5 staffers, 2 are on their way back to college, 2 more have 2 more weeks before the senior (12th) year starts, and the recent collge grad and uber developer landed himself a job (that starts next week). So basically, this entire summer was his interview.
Now on to more pressing matters, I didn't make it out of dodge until Friday afternoon and was literally on the extreme verge of calling it quits with this Baltimore trip, but I just bychance happened to hear the guilt trip message as I was checking my voice mail and let's just say it made me hop on the Mass Pike Westbound. But I damn sure didn't make it all the way down there.
I had to swing by NYC for a lil bit. So after I did my usual neighborhood stakeout on Crotona Ave, I found my cousin Freddy and caught up with the rest of the fam. Mind you, my job is gatekeeper. I keep in touch with A LOT of my family. We have sets like gangs. This is the Crotona/Fordham fam; all the Nuyoricans like whoa. We chilled for a few hours and you know I had to do the photo shoot. It was definietly good to see all of them - only one person was missing but I hear he's stepped is game up and is doing really good right now and I'm very poroud of him. We all have our differences, but we accept each other as fam and that's some real love when we get together. I need to get them down to SC soon. Hell...maye I'll kidnap them in the morning and roll down to MD with them in tow. Hmm...
So anyways, I make my way down to 147th & Lenox in Harlem to link up with my other cousin JJ. This is the cousin who just 'found' us at the end of 2004, but it's all love. The resemblance is uncanny and he's mad chill with a decent head on his shoulders. We're still bonding so I need to definitely keep in touch with him and check in on him reguarly. He's a true NYC point guard (on some Rucker shT yo. Word) with some past missteps, but still with the potential and time to do somethign with all that talent. So we shot the SHT for a few on our way to Queens to link up with my cousin (and his brother) ONION. We joked about we knew exactly how to find him and sure enough he was located withtin 5 minutes perched on park bench in Woodside projects. We chilled there for hours until about 2:30 or so and called it a night and now I'm back at my Uncle Woody's crib in Harlem pretending like I'm actually going to wake up in the morning to get my a$$ on the road in time for the cookout in Carroll Park. Yeah...we'lls ee about dem apples.
But anywas, back to ONION. I also saw my other cousin, IMPH. And don't bother asking about how they got those nicknames. I don't even know....but I do have my ideas on how. And yes, these are not some made up blogger pseudonyms. These are legitimate, go in the hood and ask for Onion and do a hooty-hoo in the right direction so yo can find him. Feel me? Anyways, it was both and bad to see him. And if he happens to search for me and reads this, then it ain't rocket science to figure out why. Making moves is a just a term for blowing smoke in the air if you ain't going nowhere but the hood. I love the streets, and sometimes, they even love me back. But more often than not, the streets are cold, fickle, unstable, and mundane. All the ceelo, blunts, shadowboxing, nigganomics, po-po, coronas, and purple haze in the world ain't meaning a damn thing in life if that's all life is about. I can say word any louder than that. But of course he wasn't really trying to hear us, so I think JJ and I will have to try to kidnap him and do our on hands-on intervention. Now I have a new source of frustration...although I was expecting 95% to see, hear, and experience exatly what we did tonight.
Through the lights cameras and action, glamour glitters and gold
I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe
When I'm deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast
to conquer peace leaving savages to roam in the streets
Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun
Trick my Wisdom, with the system that imprisoned my son
Smoke a gold leaf I hold heat, nonchalantly
I'm grungy, but things I do is real it never haunts me
while, funny style niggaz roll in the pile
Rooster heads profile on a bus to Riker's Isle
Holdin weed inside they pu$$y with they minds on the
pretty things in life, props is a true thug's wife
It's like a cycle, niggaz come home, some'll go in
Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again
From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable
Guns salute life, rapidly, that's the ritual
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
To flatter me is strategy It gotta be more complex than chess
Ended up in Target tonight with sis and saw a kid and his pops in there shopping for clothes. They were probably there for some back-to-school gear, but I immediately had a sever case of 'deja vu like a muthafuqa.'
The midget hasn't reached that stage yet, but I always had this feling in the back of my head that it was some cruel joke that I wasn't in on the punchline. Nevertheless, seeing the two of them made me think about fatherhood and what it meant to me then, as I got older, and now that the roles have evolved to the point where I'm the father. And speaking of which, I value that father term dearly, but time will only tell how life's deck of cards will eventually play out. I want to remain a father. I don't want to just be a daddy. Maybe that thinking only makes sense to me becuase it ain't that clear cut, but I'll leave it in God's hands and hope to be able to do right by the midget and his moms no matter the weather. Because I damn sure don't have any intentions of disappearing, regardless of circumstance (plus I wouldn't want to be known as simply a 'donor'). And for some reason I have the urge to call my pops right now but I'm resisting. I've resisted for long time now. I think I'll give in eventually. We've only had but a few in-depth talks about life and real shT so maybe we're due for another. Another decade has passed. Maybe I'm completely over my chldhood and we can finally move on, huh? Maybe...we'll see. It's odd how I can freely tell someone else to heed Sonia Sanchez' words (above), but can't swallow the pill myself in one gulp. Fuq it...time to schedule a field trip. If only the wind would come scoop my a$$ up and give me a quick ride down there. Now, wouldn't that be the shT?!
what is done is doneTo make long story short and quite impersonal; POPS grew up down south, while POPS' pops lived in NYC. So anyways, I looked at the two of them and saw my own reflection. Naturally, I was usually a little heftier than this kid, but still you get the gist of it. Speaking of heft, do they make boy clothing in size HUSKY anymore?
what is not done is not done
let it go...like the wind
The midget hasn't reached that stage yet, but I always had this feling in the back of my head that it was some cruel joke that I wasn't in on the punchline. Nevertheless, seeing the two of them made me think about fatherhood and what it meant to me then, as I got older, and now that the roles have evolved to the point where I'm the father. And speaking of which, I value that father term dearly, but time will only tell how life's deck of cards will eventually play out. I want to remain a father. I don't want to just be a daddy. Maybe that thinking only makes sense to me becuase it ain't that clear cut, but I'll leave it in God's hands and hope to be able to do right by the midget and his moms no matter the weather. Because I damn sure don't have any intentions of disappearing, regardless of circumstance (plus I wouldn't want to be known as simply a 'donor'). And for some reason I have the urge to call my pops right now but I'm resisting. I've resisted for long time now. I think I'll give in eventually. We've only had but a few in-depth talks about life and real shT so maybe we're due for another. Another decade has passed. Maybe I'm completely over my chldhood and we can finally move on, huh? Maybe...we'll see. It's odd how I can freely tell someone else to heed Sonia Sanchez' words (above), but can't swallow the pill myself in one gulp. Fuq it...time to schedule a field trip. If only the wind would come scoop my a$$ up and give me a quick ride down there. Now, wouldn't that be the shT?!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)