#playingwithformat

[creativemindswander-blog]

Burdens of My Mother

Her malnourished stomach                caves in yearning for substance.                     Searching for unpolluted water                and a feast to feed her children,               but finding only leftover scraps               and muddy libation to satisfy              their cravings.

She watches as her sons and daughters               grow thin and weak.                Seeing her grandchildren abandoned               due to untreated illnesses                     makes her mourn and flashback         to her younger days,           when                            rivers ran clean              and crops were plenty.

She listens to the wind                 and remembers                      the songs             it carried through her villages.               Now all that’s heard are the cries                        of her wounded and stomach moans                              of her starved. She begs, pleads, calls, screams            for help from her neighbors    of privilege,                                        but what they offer is simply                                              not enough.         Hunger for food, health, and stability,              unfed.                                         Thirst for clean water, relief, help,                 unquenched. With a parched mouth and swollen belly,                 she looks after her offspring,              who cling to her for survival.              Even with all the pain she endures               she does not fall.                    The weight, never too heavy.                       Her back remains straight and strong.                                                 Her roots firmly planted,                                   hoping, waiting.                                  Waiting for a day                                                               when her nation is fed.

[creativemindswander-blog]

Neo-Soul Vibes

Ready or not, here I come—                                                                             with melodious lines that weave around our minds twisting                       language and sound,                                                                                   consonant and vowels                                                                                           into lyrical poetry feeding our souls.

Let’s take a long walk—                                                                                     along city streets to hear the beats of life                                                             and breathe in the culture that creates                                                     personality and melody,                                                                                 allowing music to become part of me                                                             instead of existing outside of me, spectating.

I used to love her—                                                                                         when her hip hop style mixed                                                                            with hard beats and heavy rhymes                                                                       to create something of meaning.

But today she is killing me softly—                                                                     with the lack of relevance, consistency, and intelligence                                when she speaks of laffy-taffy shaking                                                              and racks on racks on racks stacking.                                                      Teaching youth to whip and nene,                                                               instead of inspiring thought,                                                                       fostering autonomy, individuality.

It takes strength, courage and wisdom—                                                               to create music with a voice of maturity,                                                              an art form that lasts rather than a trend that fades.        

To create the sweetest thing I’ve ever known—                                                    is to become bigger than the superficial;                                                               to encapsulate culture in a single line;                                                                  to say everything in few words                                                                               instead of nothing in many.

On and on and on and on—                                                                                the mastery of your melody                                                                                   is overshadowed by the lack of creativity.                                                       Plans if I ruled the world—                                                                                  are clouded by lust, violence, fast fads,                          and cash money greed.

I wish I could go back in the day—                                                                   when music enveloped the mind                                                                        and moved the body in a sensual grind;                                                           when music meant more than                                                                        selling records or topping the charts;                                                              before 106 and park took over                                                                             and Billboard declared who’s hot and who’s not;                                              

         when music stemmed from Roots, blooming seeds of knowledge, truth,                                understanding, love and non-conformity.

           When music was Golden, my Four Leaf Clover,                                 Ready to Love and all consumingly original.                When music was.