Intervention

I’ve got this category called the Poetree, and it was created because since this is my blog, and I’m giving ya’ll a piece of me everyday, a big part of me is my poetry man, I’m a rapper (NEW MUSIC ONA WAY) but a poet at heart, if there are any poets reading my site, SEND ME YOUR WORKS AND I WILL POST EM, real talk. so ite, my girl Lady C wrote this poem by the name of Intervention, which was hot as hell to me, matter of fact here it is right here:

INTERVENTION Pt. 1 by Canae “Lady C” White

I need another hit/another hit/another hit of that Black shit/

this African American/ Negro way of livin’/ that’s been engraved into my life/ got me trippin/

like dum di-di dum dum/ seeking and searchin/ for any and everything that looks like me
And people can’t seem to see/ why if America is a melting pot/ why my face still stands out in a sea of white audiences/ but this Black ish I’m smokin’/ has been burnin for years/ changed names/ suppliers/ and fiends/ and moved from a domestic social drug on the continent of my ancestors/

to an international sweat house/In the time it took/ for a document to free us/ to the time people decided they really wanted to be us/ our culture became a roll of reafer 5 feet long/ like a dream of Fatz Waller/ and everybody’s takin a hit/ White folks/ Asians/ etc/ etc.
And goin to an HBCU/ don’t make it no betta/ like crack babies in the womb/ we’re given and endless supply/ to this beautiful black high/floatin’ on intellect/ dancin’ to music/ not givin a damn/ seein’ the world through the smokey red haziness/ of a fantasy/ of how it could be/ if the rest of the world looked like….
But so many problems arise/ when the light day first hits the eyes/ and we realize we’ve entered the world/ where man can not survive on this drug alone/ now don’t get me wrong/ we experiment with other substances/ understand we must embrace others for who they are/ and that there’s more than one face of black beauty/ Besides if a white man’s yes/ is a black maybe/ then fair brown or dark if the white sees black/ then maybe we can open our arms/ and welcome sister half breed or brother mud blood/ even if they choose to embrace all of who they are.
But back to the topic/ like any other drug world/ you got your dealers/ and those dealt to/ and somewhere down the line/ the dealers changed from the wise words of my mother/ proclaimin’ baby this is who you are/ to the images the world equates to Black/ saying this is who you’re gonna be/ lacin the little purity of my culture/ with more ignorance/ greed/ and lust for the fastest way to the American Dream/ and tho I hate to admit it/ this shit is strong.
I heard a man say/ that he adored black ignorance/ and came to a HBCU to relish in it/ ain’t that mesed up?/ So tell me why all I can do is shake my head/ and take a nother hit?
Though my people may be crazy/ from those tainted drugs/ the media steady pushin’/ I refuse to believe that we’ll be forever stuck in the night/ all this craziness is really just us/ tryna get back to the light/
God of our weary years/ God of our silent tears/ thou who has brought us thus far on the way/ thou who has by thy might/ led us into the light/ keep us forever/ in that path/ we pray.
Maybe that’s why I keep needin this drug/ I need to be/ need to be/ need to be Black. And down that path we keep trekking/ and yes Ima take another hit/ because somewhere I find me/ in the smoke of this Black shit.

—–

So it was so hot to me, that I felt the need to respond, so here’s my INTERVENTION pt.2

—-

INTERVENTION pt.2 by BATS (YEAH ME!!)

I need another fix/another fix of that white girl/That columbian, COKE bottle shaped, silver spoon fed white girl/That caucasian way of living was never a part of my financial prison so to get in that position I had to learn how to start pimpin/and pitchin this product called white freedom because in America’s melting pot the only way to eat, is to cook for yourself…call it conditioning…
Uncle Sam acts as if I was born ‘dum di-di dum dum’, born a dope, so its on me to live up to my civil AND birth rites/gotta sell high and buy on the the low/ A product, a pussy, so white, so harsh, so potent that one swim in it will leave you permanately soaked like a tattoo of Denial river running down your back/and up your brain, cuz the fact is….I’ma nigger…
yup, and once I accepted that is when I really began seeing the whips and the chains that my ancestors could only dream to attain/All because of that white girl, for her I’ll always be her man, her daddy, her Uncle Tom, her trap…house nigga/
I’m ina kitchen over the stove for her, and shes puttin in time,THAT WORK 9 to 5, 5 to 9 making money for me/I never needed a document to set me free, only a supplier, who taught me that addiction is more powerful than love, hate, or revolution/And I’m addicted to the money, the chase, it is my religion, money over everything…that includes bitches, jesus, everything/ aint never seen heaven in the hood, just me and my white girl slanging out pitchforks yadig, pitchspoons rather
And what the fuck am I gonna do with revolution? Huh?/Revolution ain’t payin my bills, revolution aint stopping my baby mama from stealing my money, fuck, revolution ain’t nothing but theatrics, a theatre of the mind, some staged bullshit, so the truth comes full circle when they say that the revolution will NOT be televised/

Not here, not in the projects I tell you that, so to hell with that black shit, my white girl has me set/A white man’s “yes” is a black man’s “maybe”, but a black man’s “yes” helps me feed my babies/
And I’m a good father, when he gets old enough, so they won’t hang him with it, Ima teach my son the ropes/that success is a DARE but I aint talking no “Just Say No”/No, it’s “Please say yes” keep saying yes, its with your souls I am blessed, with your soles I keep my feet warm and my block properly dressed with no stress just my undying public serVESS (service)/

and I’ll say this,
I wouldn’t mind smoking some of that black shit if it didn’t have me tweaking, thinking about shit my brain shouldn’t be sinking its wrinkles into/like HBCUs and univeristy institutes/To me they aint nothing but the same game I’m into/Their needle is a number two pencil/And they’re sellin a product called higher learning that forever leaves it’s fiends pocket’s burning,
only difference is they giving out receipts called diplomas/You can keep that receipt cuz that aint gon pay my fuckin bills neither, hell, with that receipt if i don’t like the product, it’s not like I can get my life back, fuck that, I rather be a dumb and rich hustler, over a smart and broke customer anyday/And hell, them college fiends run trains on my white girls for homework leavin me more paid anyway/So whose got the masters?
It’s cuz of my white girl that these rappers can add chapters to the book of black history that actually reflect real memories, what I can relate to, what I can debate about, what I’ve seen son!/And I ain’t talking about no bullshit Cosby Show reruns, I mean the gutter, where you survive by anymeans, on a rest in peace t-shirt is when we really seen Dr. King’s dream, and after he was sleep, my supplier took his receipt, ripped it up and made way for me to get more white girls on the street/

And THATS what really saved my family, so judge me if you want to, I’ll give you the gavel/But then come into my court, see how foul the road is I’ve traveled/Don’t judge me because you see my white girl givin me brains, and loves it, while your black shit won’t even claim your dark ass in public/
What’s funny is my supplier told me you would blame me though/When he hooked me up w/ my girl and my job, he said to watch out for the po-po,
the broke folk, them joe blow uppity negros/They’ll claim they’re ya heroes, have you inhaling alla smoke they blow up ya ass, leaving ashes in heaps/
And all they leave you with is the munchies but nothing to eat/
If I’m wrong, prove to me your black shit is better, prove it/I’ll hit bongs of the shit if it could really make me higher than my white girl can lick/I’ll smoke it til it burns my lips, til it scorches my fingertips
if it can get my credit legit, my mama not stressed/
A better hood for my kids, and get me a job even if my lips black and I failed my piss test/
Guarantee no more tears on my shoulders, some property, no more leased ranged rovers
oh and my bitch to stop blaming me for that wack sack her Pops sold her/
That’s the black shit I needta see in the market/I’ll accept my bank’s withdrawals for that bargain/
Until you can at least, insure to me that you’re trying to get some ganga like THAT in your palms
….I’ll be lookin up to my supplier who smokes black shit in farms and still tells me I’m better off with this white girl on my arm…..……

—

Then to cap it off, the homie Atlas came through with his take on the whole thing, with Intervention pt. 3

Intervention pt. 3 by Atlas

i need a hit// i need another hit// another drink another shot of that liquid// to squizz up my vison// cuhs what i see aint worth livin// so i choose to drown in imagining// while i be downin that brandy//
see while i meet my girl tequila// i get hard of hearin// so give me another shot// so in that dark// when them pops// and iron sparx// that hydroxyl// keeps me calm//
see through the glass its clear wit wide open spaces// but take a look deeper so u can taste what im facin //
better watch what ur drinkin baby// walkin wit the wrong brand got niggas ready to distort your thinkin baby// in the land where rape happens daaailly// and everyones on welfare cuhs babies havin babies// its real//
this aint no movie set// i cant even walk to the park without watchin my back// and babymammas in their cradles carryin gats for protection // and toddlers just started walking wit assault rifles and cant even spell it// gangs floodin the streets for every letter of the alphabet n// shrines on every corner representin our friends// and tattooed tears sheddin down to our chin// and im escapin on a wet dream
imagination dripples off my chin//
c my medication// got me hallucinating// threads of cartoon perfectation//
see in sober reality i gotta be among to live among// live by one so u wont die from one // you better bust your gun before you get bust upon//
so i made it my life// to not do whats right but to fight// and to do what to keep my life// in the mug of night//
i gotta hold my balance when i am forced to watch my niggas live wit blood shot eyes // hung over from the jumpin that occurred just last night// so i drown the world in booze// after i just figured out that my bro does shrooms dude//
and escapin the world of blackness// into the fools world of drunken happiness// when im sittin at the bar and samual pattin me on my back and says //”welcome” wit no care in the world// havin another round and i still cant get through earl// blindin my fears// as that pink elephant says “cheers”// divin off the coast// as u propose a toast// walkin away from real world livin// entering the gates of drunken oblivion// see the shit i left is cold and heartless //and the only way i can feel that warmth is that fire water hard stuff// out side the cup// u can see happiness in my glassy eyes but take a look closer and u see the pain that i grew up through// where drive by shootins normal// and niggas slay the dudes i look up to//

friends become enemies and now i cant trust dudes// a black person gets shot all on the news// and all we say just another fool// caught in the wrong place wrong time wit the wrong tool// thats why i need booze// when you scream out your lungs sayin man i love you// to just a random dude //jus cuhs pizza is our favorite food// escapin the fatherless families, so they daughters become lose, // on the skin stained on of our people of is aids that become the die,// entering in the world when redbull really makes me fly// alcohol covers my eyes so even the mail box smiles.//
so if u have to choose nigga what would you pick// escapin the stench of this world full of shit// dancin in the light of moonshine or suffocatin in the heats pitz,// yeah…so thats y indulge in the waterfalls of Robust// to escapes of the jaws of no love// and break the grasp of no trust //climbin to the top of the vision// divin off of that image// and drownin downin that liquid

And I think dude killed it, I’m hearing that some poets I know are getting together for a pt.4 and 5, so look out for that! Ina meantime, get at me, I’ve got another editorial coming very very soon…

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