Thursday, December 17, 2009

24-7 Hustlin

I’m a homeless marine who has AIDS
lost my apartment in a fire
got six kids and 2 cats to feed
sell candy to stay off the streets
I’m broke and it aint no joke
waiting for my unemployment EBT debit card
you can peep my ID
any food or spare change please
I’m hungry
anything you can give even a penny helps
they cut off my SSI
I play congas,
bucket drums,
steel drums
I sing
break dance,
recite poetry,
play the sitar and air guitar
Down on my luck
begging for a buck
I hustle chess games
sell watches and trash for fast cash
old radios with tape decks
pre-HD TVs
worn down shoes
old toys
remote controls
electronic zebras
shirts and pants
I’m African
Puerto Rican
St. Lucian
my skin color is
topaz and lavender
I sell on 33rd street and Broadway
on the 1 line
on the A train to Harlem
W to queens
JMZ to Brooklyn
5 train to the Bronx
I play jazz
electric and acoustic
I play on 8th street
in the subway
I sell old books
used jerk off magazines
sing do-wop hits
bongs and crack pipes
I whisper in a loud raspy hoarse voice
I’m the unheard cry from NYC
stagger from ghettos
roof tops
corner spots
subway cars
train tunnels
beaches to boon docks
I’m the unheard voice crying in the New York City wilderness
shaving summer ices in tropical flavors in small white Dixie cups
dripping down hands making sticky fingers
freshly squeezed orange juice
Cuchifritos from illegally parked trucks
bottles of water on the highway
I search for cans and bottles to get change
look for left behind quarters in pay phones
pick through the rich man’s garbage
I mug for a meal
sell dime bags and rocks to people who want to cop
prostitute myself
sell quick fucks and $20 blow jobs
hold up hard-to-read cardboard signs
I’m an unwanted gypsy
Feel my pain
I’m a throw away just trying to survive the day

Thursday, December 10, 2009

2 FOUR 1 Capitalism

gonna sell sell sell sell sell it
you need to smell better
look better
love better
have a bigger cock
have your period better
cramp better
dress better
eat what we say
when we say
how we say
where we say
got 2 be a clone but think you’re an original rebel
buy all the worthless junk that will break down in a month
we’ve got the ugliest clothes that you’ve got to have
believe all the lies
shave your legs better
brush your teeth with a laser
change your brown eyes to original orange
your eyebrows are out of style
shave your head
now grow it back
dye it
curl it
burn it
weave it
deceive it
achieve it
nothing more then buying
from infomercials
click that internet ad
latest fade
junk mail
all creating
and deforming
who I was
and who I am
want out of this jam
don’t need your new version of Windows
mutilation of a nation
a world and generation
fall prey to the hype
this advertising life
only to find
they want more
ads fly across the sky
sketched in the sand
implanted in your brain
dial a lawyer
phone a friend
liposuc the fat from your gut
new pair of breasts on your flat chest
WiFi and HD
4G phones in your hand
you can talk
do a split
while you drive your high polluting
gas chugging
SUV up the freeway
70 miles an hour
Reading each billboard sign
For the next high tech design
Not realizing that you done gone lost your mind

Monday, November 30, 2009

Digital Speech

I get so fucking tired of talking to machines
say stuff and they don’t know what I mean
get so vexed I scream
push cell phone buttons
press 0 for the operator but only get voice recognition software
again I start to swear
They program it in that slightly husky partly raspy a little sexy computer voice
Make your selection pick your choice
From the menu list
Press one for English for Spanish press 2
This is what I do but sometimes I still can’t get through
Press 4 for more options
You must speak proper English
This is its wish
Because if you don’t your call will be dismissed
So I listen to the options and try to press the buttons quickly
put the phone back to my ear so I can hear the next command
“I didn’t understand your response,” meaning elucidate
so I clear my throat and try again
seems like there’s no end
I need more patience to practice Zen
The machine drones along
I’ve been holding on so long
I raise my voice and say, “What the fuck is going on!”
I get peppered with questions
“I am sorry I did not understand that”
Is that cuz I talk too black?
Or maybe my speech is too slurred
I’m stumbling over my words
I say it for the third time
A waste of my time
The machine repeats the same line
It wants to know my birthday social security number ID pin what I ate for breakfast a list of all my sins
If I like Pepsi or Coke
Once again my answers are revoked
I start freaking out because I forgot the long list of choices
Press 3 for billing
Press 4 for tech support
Press 5 to repeat these options
Press * to speak to representative
Press 6 to update your account information
Press 7 to enter your birthday for example 11 04 1959
Press 8 just for the hell of it
Press 9 to end this call
I get placed on hold and my call gets dropped, then I have to call all over again

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Psychiatric Cocktail


Wednesday, November 25, 2009


You got minutes left
roll over minutes
prepaid minutes
month to month
minute reminder
the machine tells me how many minutes I have left
60 seconds
60 tics of the clock
how many minutes do I have left in my life
60 minutes in an hour
24 hours in a day
1440 minutes in a day
525600 minutes in a year
In my life time I have lived 18921600 minutes
give or take a minute or two
19 million minutes have passed by
do I have 19 million more
or will my prepaid life plan expire
before I am finished talking walking living
life goes by, one minute two minutes
2 -30 second spots
every minute of life has value and worth
before my cell phone plan made me understand
each minute is priceless
I use to look at time in years
each moment is unique and original
how can I take time to enjoy the minutes left?
sometime soon my life will be a dropped call
0 nation wide minutes remaining
before I reach 0 minutes time
I want to do something great
something phenomenal
something that will be remembered for millions of minutes to come
because 0 minutes is coming
coming for sure I want 21 million more
matters how you use them wisely before things. . .

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

1 800 273 8255

I called the suicide hotline a couple of times
because I was losing my mind
the guy was rude
had an attitude
I hung up and called back again
I think he didn't like it
got him again at 2am
he didn’t like the midnight shift
his attention began to drift
lots of calls to sift, he was afraid I’d end up a stiff
he wanted to stop me from ingesting a bottle of pills to kill myself
this certainly would not be good for my health
the guy on the suicide prevention line said Sir, please this is not a chat line
like my talking was wasting his time
he asked for my location
said he’d send an ambulance to my destination
get me out of the situation
I declined to say where I live
this information I would not give
he said he’d trace my number
I wondered how
did I have GPS on my phone?
I was on too much medication
Lamital Geodon Ambient and Trazadone
I got upset and nervous, I hung up the phone
would they come to get me?
I stared and stared at all my bottles of pills
Used all of my will anxiety filled
I struggled to put the bottle down
40 hours later I was found back in the psyche ward
on suicide watch 24/7 surrounded by guards and cops
Remeron and Ambient kept me chilling
I stayed on the ward for 9 short days
broke me out of my depression phase
hopeful to begin new ways
a new phrase in a new stage

Sunday, November 22, 2009


I head down to Social Security to get disability
they give me number 354B
there are a million people before me
they stumble around with canes
Joy says they’re not in pain
just playing games
I sit and wait
they call 664
he or she has disappeared from the floor
guess they got bored
calling 664
calling 664
last call for C664
everybody else ignores her call
the woman at the window shouts out through bullet proof glass
I overhear a conversation about a football game
I sit and wonder when they will call my number
will I get SSD for being insane and crazy?
because I don't have a cane just pain in my brain
I sit and space out and barely notice my number is flashed on the electronic
I dash from my chair the woman at the window wonders why the delay
she wants my Social Security number
she hits the computer keyboard with a few mouse clicks
132 68 6906
You applied before but you must do it once more
She gives me an interview date says don't be late
I Buy a banana cake
By mistake I get food stains on one of the papers
I question now that this process has begun
When will it be done?
As I leave the papers get blown down the street with a sudden breeze
I run around trying to retrieve

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Friday, November 6, 2009


I wonder when I’ll be 6 feet under
we are all running out of time
running short on days minutes and seconds
inside most of us feel like we will never die
that’s the biggest lie
we hide in our days and bask in the moments of life
life envelops our five senses
another juncture commences
time does not last on a clock
as we cling to this earth rock
the world spins
that we live in
are you grounded in reality?
or lost in a fantasy
the presence of life is too much
I want to escape adopt a different consciousness that makes more sense
I get drowned in the routine of the daily diurnal mundane ho hum of the days outcome
I succumb to repetitiveness the dawn has spun
brushing my teeth going to the bathroom to seek bladder relief
on a common search for more peace
maybe it’s blowing in the southeasterly wind
existence overwhelms my senses from my dome piece
so much to see
so much to feel
so much to experience
running through my hands like water
I try to catch every raindrop
I smell the sweet scent of hyacinth blowing in a Washington Heights breeze
the rubber of my shoes feel the contact of the street
as I walk sweat starts to run slowly
gravity causes it to run down my rib cage
fully engaged in this surreal instant
I try to stay brave and ride the essence of this time wave
I see a new morning in the distance as I breathe in this illusion
this virtual reality smacks me like a hit from a crack pipe
like a line of potent coke
similar to sticky buds that make my lungs choke
here comes the 24/7 ready or not
what’s the nightly plot
I try to see the future and all I see is black licorice
the drapes are drawn on my tomorrows
I rack my brain to find out what follows
I get tracked by shadows and sorrows
sitting slumped on a concrete tree stump
on top of a garbage dump
gazing out at a foggy mist
hiding the sky from my eyes that evoke personal disasters
wondering what comes after
in the wake of a mental break I seek tranquility in a whirlwind of trouble
seeking something normal
in the midst of a cataclysmal event
seeking an early dismissal
will more calendars be thrown my way?
while I slowly decay akin to all the other animals humans that came before me
the end of me will end my humanity
I get filled with anxiety at the actuality that one day I will no longer be
my birth date was when I jumped out the womb gate into this matrix
I was an accident
parents had no intent to birth another child
I sit and stare at the clock
I watch my side burns and chin hairs turn gray
death is coming my way
I can't get around the fact that I will no longer hear sounds words that rush from my skull will be hushed for all eternity
a brief period to lament to resent then I drink it in and become sunset
my ears hear train sounds
death is not fair but it makes me more aware

Monday, November 2, 2009


The daily stress gets on my chest
I’m constantly put to the test little time to rest
Another conquest as I invest in the mess
All this stress makes me scream to the extreme - let off some steam
too many battles and fisticuffs things get rough
Trying to break from the past wish it was faster but it’s an on going disaster
Need to get a break from all the mistakes that lie in my wake
Want to punch a hole in the world - rage catches me in a catastrophe
I try to break free with a help me plea
Problems swirl and bubble like a cooking stew never seem through
Solutions over do what can I do
Phone calls shrill in the middle of the night a psychopath haunts me - prods me for a fight
I shut off my cell and try to escape this mental rape
Patch me through to my descendant I resent your belligerent constant arguments
it makes no sense you dumb bitch follow the judges judgment
In court back and forth I seek an order of protection but receive a rejection
I get the word they refuse to serve but I am undeterred
March back to the injustice system with a lawyer in tow and a girlfriend to show
maybe this time they’ll listen
This time will be different
I need a significant change a break from the mentally deranged thinks I am insane
But she’s the one playing the games
Writing me letters - you know what it’s better we’re not together
Don’t pick up the phone if my son is not home all I want from you is to be left the hell alone
They all shall see you’re constantly calling me we have a stipulation to deal with this situation
I worry about my child with your rage your style so hostile you act like a spoiled child
The court will not condone your cover is blown
it shall be known you’re the one who’s crazy


We jumped that iron horse on a southbound course
Heading to the east village on a bombing run and a drug deal yeah for real
Weed runs out - marijuana drought
wanna cop that ounce that O Z of fresh trees
to place in the pipe and light
it's late night
the east village is packed
with bar hopping wolf packs
we weave thru the mass mad fast
She did not tell the dude I was coming
dealers can get crazy paranoid
new costumers and new people they try 2 avoid
they sometimes get annoyed
She rings his bell he answers cuz he wants this sell
The lobby door opens we enter the center like entertainers
bending the first floor corner
He opens the apartment door weed smoke mixed with cigarettes cancer and a contact high is what I can get
smoke hangs in the stank windowless apartment that resembles the bat cave
He eyes me suspiciously she quickly introduces me plainly
He pulls up a dirty white chair so I sit there
Weights and a total gym are strewn around the tiny one bedroom
covered in doom
colors of gray and black clash with a large off white abstract oil painting
his abode is blanketed in joint ash
the painting rises above his head with a jagged slash
he sits on a black disheveled couch scattered with miscellaneous papers
the painting peaks like a white smoky mountain
the domicile is eclipse with dusty trash
she passes him the cash
in exchange he gives over a portion of his stash
He’s watching cable TV of people fighting with swords fire hoses and karate
he sits up and rolls a thick dope doobie
it’s nearly perfect like a cigarette
time passes instantaneously
the J gets past and burns fast
I give him a sticker
He flings it on the jumble of papers
She is feeling the high the next swap no is the reply
We say later to the guy and hello to a get high

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Can it get any worse?

When the shit hits the fan it makes your whole life stink
My landlord wants to evict me because I have a mental illness and write wall poetry
My job is trying to fire me while I am on sick leave
My X wife constantly calls to harass me and leaves 21 messages all of them equally nasty
My X girl friend who is my coworker made up a story that I verbally attacked her and blocked the door so she could not leave
She texted and called me endlessly
I told her quietly politely please I am sick don’t bother me
She told me she was going to throw out all my shit and promptly
I am under investigation for saying fuck while teaching for the department of education
I am $30,000 dollars in debt
I owe Steel Gym, Chase credit card, HSBC, Time Warner Cable, my divorce lawyer and Con Edison
Dr Jane Saltzman my general practitioner who should not be practicing medicine
Refused to listen to me told me to go to emergency immediately when I called her to discuss my condition she hung up on me refused me the medication that I need to function normally her Hippocratic oath is hypocrisy
My x psychiatrist refused to give me the medical papers for my job and every time I went to see her she brought out papers for me to sign myself into the local psychiatric facility
I have heavy withdrawal from Lexipro itching, scratching, chills and cold the prototypical results of a junkie going cold
My new Psychiatrist switches my medicine to Geodon at first it feels like a godsend
But then its many side effects kicked in
Vomiting diarrhea and deep colon shit that seem like there was no end to its excretions
After that night of shitting I lost around 10 pounds
Pacing the house with sudden energy I did not know who I was momentarily
I have a mental illness so it’s harder for me to exist that’s why I scream stop this society


When the shit hits the fan it makes your whole life stink
My landlord wants to evict me because I have a mental illness and write wall poetry
My job is trying to fire me while I am on sick leave
My X wife constantly calls to harass me and leaves 21 messages all of them equally nasty
My X girl friend who is my coworker made up a story that I verbally attacked her and blocked the door so she could not leave
She texted and called me endlessly
I told her quietly politely please I am sick don’t bother me
She told me she was going to throw out all my shit and promptly
I am under investigation for saying fuck while teaching for the department of education
I am $30,000 dollars in debt
I owe Steel Gym, Chase credit card, HSBC, Time Warner Cable, my divorce lawyer and Con Edison
Dr Jane Saltzman my general practitioner who should not be practicing medicine
Refused to listen to me told me to go to emergency immediately when I called her to discuss my condition she hung up on me refused me the medication that I need to function normally her Hippocratic oath is hypocrisy
My x psychiatrist refused to give me the medical papers for my job and every time I went to see her she brought out papers for me to sign myself into the local psychiatric facility
I have heavy withdrawal from Lexipro itching, scratching, chills and cold the prototypical results of a junkie going cold
My new Psychiatrist switches my medicine to Geodon at first it feels like a godsend
But then its many side effects kicked in
Vomiting diarrhea and deep colon shit that seem like there was no end to its excretions
After that night of shitting I lost around 10 pounds
Pacing the house with sudden energy I did not know who I was momentarily
I have a mental illness so it’s harder for me to exist that’s why I scream stop this society

Saturday, October 31, 2009


This election
This unnatural selection
Rejection of the truth
What really went down in the election booth?
Did they count the vote note you wrote?
Or did they delete it remote
Modems get hijack
No paper facts on a die bolt touch screen
Smoke screen
I want to scream
As W once again has been deemed supreme
By the Right Wing Neo-Conservative Regime
As Native American
And Africans
Stand in long soviet lines
Are harassed and attacked
How could it be that exit polls are wrong?
59 million strong chanting mass hysteria song
They live in a delusion of spin
That is spun
Unable to understand t
That gore and Kerry really won
CNN, Fox and many daily’s
Provide the fodder that the public chews
Swallowed digested and regurgitated on the nightly news
But still next time
Let’s not rock the vote
Or vote or die
But lets make sure over votes don’t die

Friday, October 23, 2009

Jusin Cabrera posts my pics


A young dude, Justin Cabrera, caught some pics in our hood.

He wrote, "Hi my name is Justin and I've seen your work around the hood.
1st time i saw your work was on the 1 train elevator on 181's street.
very nice work hope you enjoy the photo's :D"

Wednesday, October 21, 2009


Watch my flow spill
So dope you ask for refills
Designated to be creative
Poetry is my native language
I dangle words over the edge
Smell my intentions
Sixth sense my rhythm like an oncoming schism
I got mad skills I cheat death with my every breath
With my inhales and exhales I break from my mental jail
The incarceration and prison of depression
Trying to crack the bulletproof roof of war waged every day inside my dome cage
Faced with daymares
trying to put circles into squares
A daily madness
a perpetual sadness
But I got mad skills
I turn Jedi mind tricks with Bruce Lee kicks
when I am caught in the thick of darkness
I scramble for the daylight
out a sight
I scream as my life reignites
I sink to the depths of the abyss
Submerged like an iceberg I kiss the bliss
On a roller coaster a falling elevator with no breaks plummeting to the basement
Falling faster than a sky diver with a no parachute
somehow I’m a survivor
trying to figure out how to stay live-er
I travel to the brink of madness and back like a dare devil acrobat
I got mad skills I am a whirlwind of thought caught
a 200-mile per hour twister blows threw my neurons
while I drop lyrical bombs
I stay on like Con Ed
words break danced in my head then fled
I move in slow motion and still come in first
A chain of words bursts from my brain
Certifiably insane - still I maintain
Absconded from the psyche ward
Repelled out the window with my microphone cord
been sedated and heavily medicated
I survived staying creative
Locked up long nights
they took all my pens so I could not write
I scribbled in crayons
they could not break my poetic bonds
Dubble handcuffed in the back of squad car
I still played air guitar
Cuz I got mad skills

Saturday, October 17, 2009


collaborations: my handwriting styles combines with Joy's sketches and words.

collaboration: sketch by violetart (joy leftow) in sharpie marker from beginning to end
writing by Dubblex

Writings by dubblex

Monday, October 12, 2009

Dubblex Graffiti

I am a spray can with a wall of possibilities
I shoot out in all directions and tag up infinity
With a psychedelic kaleidoscopic of eternal hope
I float through time with my rhyme
I walk backward thru my past lives
And understand there is only one day
One minute one second one small tick of the clock
That’s why I got to rock the spot non-stop
I am swirls of Jackson Pollock paint spilling and exploding in a black universe
Streaking light years past the sun I am lost and found in a vortex the ever-drifting DubbleX reaching for the apex
Shake up this Rustoleum Aerosol spraying graffiti like Van Gogh Picasso and Miro

Friday, October 9, 2009

Once you go Mac you never go back

I use to have two PCs
both running different versions of Microsoft windows
viruses lived in the shadows
it constantly crashed and was slow on downloads
it took half an hour to start up
seemed like it was always stuck
One time the hard drive died
I lost all the poems I had stored inside
The computer was infested
spyware everywhere
constant pop ups like popcorn
I looked at it with deep scorn
once it started up it would not shut down
many times I wanted to slam it to the ground
It was slower then a traffic jam everyday a new update for PC
endless daily Norton anti-virus updates
a new threat of some Trojan horse or bug made me wanna do drugs
I would try to upgrade windows un-operating systems
I had Windows
---------------Millennium 2000
-------------------------------------and Vista
they all made me break out in fever blisters
made no difference
called my friend for aid
yet another fix and upgrade
I found myself watching the little white hourglass
as once again it crashed
left me scratching my ass
praying to Bill Gates that he’d make it go fast
I installed more memory but it didn’t solve the problem for me
It started to restart on it’s own
while I was right in the middle of some artistic zone
Applications suddenly close
Next the computer froze
I’d have to reboot
my computer i want to shoot
My software had back doors
Working with it was such a chore
I was always running low on gigabytes
had me mad uptight
trying to install and uninstall programs
when a virus or problem began
again my computer got wiped
un-operating system fright
my first experience with apple was an iPod colored black
I liked I tunes but pretty soon on a PC again there were problems for me

my PC had strange places called bios this too I had to learn and be concerned
every once in a while I’d see the blue screen of death
told me my PC had hard nothing left
was on its last binary breath
Just when I reached my wits end I met my girlfriend
she gave me a Mac G4 bringing my PC use to a pause
The first shock was I could have lots of applications open and it would not stop
my mouth just dropped
The hard drive had lots more space my PC got quickly replaced I moved my music files to itunes and smiled

It took less then a minute to begin it
And I easily became familiar with mac though it’s not similar to PC it just shows you how to use it naturally

2.66GHz Intel Core 2 Duo processor
--------------------2Giga Bytes of memory
----------------------------------500 Giga Byte hard drive I felt alive

I started making music
itunes, garageband and iphoto – for everything I use it
I got the iMac now I’ll never go back so many features so easy to use
Videos, documents photos and it doesn’t crash - threw my PC in the trash
Cleared up my PC blues free at last free at last

Monday, September 28, 2009

My Playlist

I listen to my iPod
It blocks out the sounds of things around
Especially when riding the train uptown and down
16 gigabytes of room for applications and iTunes
2726 songs my play list is mad long got Louie Armstrong
I've got Coltrane to Prince's Purple Rain
Public Enemy and EPMD Run DMC Sly and Robbie
Nine-Inch Nails and Rage Against The Machine Michael Jackson’s Billy Jean
Alice in Chains to Bad Brains Big Daddy Cane Little Wayne to House of Pain
Curtis blow to Fat Joe
Biz Markey and Barrington Levy to Young Jeezy AC/DC to Jay-Z
Akon and Little Jon
Amy Winehouse to Eek-A-Mouse
B.B. King and Jimi Hendrix Little Wing
Bernie Man and The Wu Tan Clan
Bahamadia to Aaliyah to Monica Carlos Santana to Nervana
Billie Holiday to Morris Day Macy Gray Marvin Gaye
Bob Marley and Lee Scratch Perry
David Bowie to The Brand New Heavies
Buckwheat Zydeco to Agustus Pablo D'Angelo Lupe Fiasco Cool G Rap with D J Polo Nelly Furtado
Ceila Cruz to John Lee Hooker singing the blues
DJ Cam to Yellow Man Pearl Jam MC Shan
Cream to The Dream
Eric B. and Rakim to Eminem
Black Sabbath to The Smiths
Parliament Funkadelic to Funkmaster Flex and DMX and Annie Lennox
On shuffle I wonder what will be next
De La Soul Depeche Mode Dilated Peoples
Stevie Wonder to Stevie Ray Vaughn to Sarah Vaughn
Red Hot Chili Peppers Def Leppard Mos Def to The Fresh Prince and DJ Jazzy Jeff
I get my MP3's illegally
back in the day of Napster
before you had to pay
I never tire of music I get from Limewire
Erykah Badu Sade to Beyonce
Incubus Fabolous Newcleus to Thelonious
Janis Joplin Led Zeppelin to Tracy Chapman Malcolm Marclen to Smashing Pumpkins
Korn Lauryn Hill to Cyprus Hills
Les Nubians to The Brand Nubians
Lou Reed to Creed
Dread Zeppelin Ornette Coleman
Mikey Dread and The Grateful Dead to The Talking Heads
OutKast Eartha Kit to Limp Bizkit to Nas’s Illmatic
Sly and the Family Stone Grace Jones Nina Simone to the Rolling Stones
UB40 U2 to Tupac
They all rock

Saturday, September 26, 2009


I had to get up ~ tag up like a disease
My hand to the marker would freeze
Never got busted by the police
My vandalism did increase
Made me a graffiti sticker beast
Spray paint, steel ball - shaking feast
Busting colors like caps
Sticker slaps
The world and I would interact
Fat markers in pockets packed
To get my name fame
Artistic acclaim for the graffiti insane
Those who died writing on trains
Scaling walls and road over hangs
Those crews and gangs
For FC and MPC and living graffiti legends like CRASH and LEE
I used to live and die graffiti
From marker stains
to the chemical smell of permanent markers swirling and bleeding into black books for artistic crooks
For city marching over dark blocks
tagging up and hitting perfect spots
Blending colors of icy grape
make wild style shapes
Midnight bombing runs
Burners and throw ups
Getting raided and buffed
to high speed fence jumping
running to escape 5 0
to staring down a graffiti rival
Fat caps and bubble letters
Standing on the shoulders of others reaching high spots with paint that last forever
Outsmarting drips
Cutting marker tips
From dazed eyes from too many forty dog sips
Drawing crazy characters with blunts dangling from African lips
From dissing toys with my homeboys
Getting that jungle green piece rolling over elevated tracks
back when wack meant wack!
Sitting for hours just watching window down and full car flats
The 149th street writers’ bench
Before graffiti went to Europe and spoke French
Before the clean trains erased the name fame
I loved seeing my name rolling IRT, BMT and MTA trains

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Congress was in session

to apologize for 400 years of oppression
in succession
America are you really sorry for the slave ships
for the bull whips
for the lynching and raping
for killing of slaves who were escaping
it’s a hole in your history that still is gaping
the selling and buying
of humanity
could you not see that this was insanity
the looting of nations for their population
did this not bring some consternation
where is the give back for lifetimes of free labor and breaking of backs
to the billions of dollars make off of crops and cotton stacks
America look over the facts
this land is a ceiling and floor filled with bleeding cracks
Is your apology done down on bended knee
To try to forget the atrocity with little civility
A monetary apology for those descendants of slavery
Would be a better way to try to say sorry
For the mass graves of African slaves
The separation of families
America this is your history
It’s like an open wound no way to shut it
murders, raping and maiming
I am sorry just doesn’t cut it

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Citizenry Got No Health Care?

I ain't got no health care

ain't got no Welfare or Medicaid

It's medical warfare

HMO's got to go

They lead to early funerals

When coverage gets denied people die

We are the only first world country who refuse its people the opportunity for free health care

It’s a daily nightmare

should be a right of our citizenship in this land of the rich

the government should pay to take care of its own instead we’re left on our own while insurance companies pray on us, like vultures they roam

no one is left to atone their behavior should not be condoned

instead it's cloned affecting home after home

HMOs bottom line is making money that's why so many requested procedures are declined saving the sick is a waste of their time

How many more years shall they continue with death on the menu so many get screwed abused and misused

Many can't afford to pay so they are turned away by hospitals to their sure early decay

A sad situation played out across the nation over paying for medication they are getting wealthy off our generation

What will it take for this country to change its policies to not take advantage of the sick and needy

Too many bankrupt because they can't cough up

They need cash flow for an operation meant to save their life, one delay turns into another doctors don’t get paid for procedures insurance don’t cover

it's time to speak up and not stay shut

Make congress pass a bill for free affordable health care it's everywhere except here

How many more people have to die

How many more people will be placed in deep debt while insurance companies show no regret for the quality of life they forfeit

claiming standard procedures are experimental

the deaths that come as a result are not accidental

health care should be a right that’s fundamental

check out the short video of former Labor Secretary Robert Reich explaining what a public option for healthcare coverage means for us at Bravenew Films.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Friday, September 4, 2009

DubbleX Chilling At Crib

these photos are property of Joy Leftow courtesy of her. She asked me to pose in front of my dreadlock poem scrawled on my wall one manic night.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Friday, August 28, 2009

The Loctician

My dreadlocks grow from small peas mad narrow
They sprang from tight rolled twisted nigga naps
clamped together and latched they grow with me attached
they swing and cling to my shoulders,
warm my ears in the winter
They hold memories of my child's birth
Conceived my lock's seed
in same calendar year as he
My dreadlocks toss fear in the hearts of onlookers
and catch the eyes of cops
They attract women to compliment and bald men to resent
They make me drip in the summer and cool my neck from the sun
My dreads collect raindrops and soft pillowy snowflakes
get me rejected and make people wonder
If I smoke weed, if I blaze trees
if I speak that rastafari with “irie dem help we”
They get me second looks and no looks
they make me friends and instant foes
you know my dreads make you wonder
if I'm a criminal or a dealer, or healer,
or if I'm hustling for the minimal
My dreadlocks get me searched, stopped, followed when I shop
So the militant in me steps up to my gangster bop
My dreadlocks grow from my brown skin
within the combination of the two often offend,
gets me glares and stares so sometimes
I act mad ghetto and put on a show
My boss asked me how long I'm gonna let them grow
I think I don't know but once my dreads go where my dreads go and I go
I'd like to see them grow to 2080 maybe
If you have to know, I'd like to see them grow like I've seen 'em,
they been with me when I was lonely, helped me hold my sanity
they were there in my despair when my marriage went beyond repair
I dread in my son's hair over here, this is my ex-lover's hair here,
and another lover over there, this dreads over here is kinda new
they grew as I grew since I made this stage move
My dreads are my night pillows
They sat with me and gave me comfort in a jail cell
Gave me comfort in that church hell
Some are braided, others sun faded it's been stated
Very long I waited for these locks to grow
they teach me patience and persistence
with kemi oil and sunshine they glisten
it's not a hairstyle
it's a life style after a while
waiting to dry for a day,
they hold life's moisture in its brown coils
my dreads stand for the lion inside of me
that can't be killed by society
The Nyabinghi Mansions, branches of Rastafari
came down from the hill to defeat Napoleon
The power of the African motherland
And now the white man's twisting dreads with his hands
just hope he understands when he does he's given praise to the Black man

visit my partner's blog
Joy's Poetry Blog

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


Back in the day I had an Afro that extended out into the universe like Saturn’s rings

I’d walk up and down city streets

wrote and stickered many things - dreamt I would be a graffiti king

Back in the day I wore a Jeri curl and cornrows

played basketball and dodged swinging elbows

Back in the day I would drink underage

knocking back Absolute Cranberry Vodka to get very drunk

Back in the day I sported an Afro – I let it grow for many years

high and wide busting out from all sides

I tamed my Afro into braids

down my shoulders they cascaded

My fingers working to interweave that weave

Before my braid days I sported a high top fade

Fucked around with Jeri curls - used to wear waves

Slept with a silky black do rag skull cap

Sometimes it was hard to nap if it was too tight at night

Come morning time my forehead would have deep do rag line

I threw on that green hair food for that ultra shine around 89

I remember one time I insisted on getting twisted

used small colorful rubber bands grabbed up a couple of hair strands

and twisted with my hands.

Rubber bands held the twist in place but as soon as I washed my hair

they were no longer there disappeared into thin air

Another time I wanted dreads

I poured honey and lemon juice on my head

I didn’t wash my hair for a month the hair had quite a funk.

My hair began to lock

Then I cut it all off and put my whole world in shock, made everyone rock

Before cutting the dreads I washed them

found lemon seeds in my natty from my lemon juice spray

I was still crazy back in the day

Afterwards, for many years I kept it cut at a level one - my scalp exposed to the sun

One day I decided I wanted my dreads back so I brought two jars of beeswax

but low and behold the dreads wouldn’t hold

so I went to the beauty saloon to get my dread on.

They twisted me up - wished me good luck –

told me not to wash my hair for at least six weeks

my ex-wife started to complain that I reeked.

The dreads grew long after some time once again I cut my hair down real low

Thought I was gonna go work for a corporation so wanted to present myself professional

Now, once more I wanted my dreads back

broke out that old jar of beeswax

sat and twisted this time I commanded them grow and grow

So finally now from high top fades braids and Afros I have come full circle

Back to my dream I think I’ll let my dreads grow to 2080 maybe

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

More Pics

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

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