- Oct 16, 2003
- 25
- 0
half my i-dentity slipped through the fingers
of my grandfather in to the back woods
of North Carolina’s cold mountains
never connected its self to father
so i am fumbled finger with numbness
barely able to grip this newfound history
this craddle of evolution, has demented seed
that i reckon
trying to rotate its place into some characterization
my reality and fiction is mixed,
‘cos all i remember is Mama
her struggles and father looks like me,
but trans-parent
i hug my soul for staying close to home,
to the streets of Pittsburgh,
i i-mprint my spirit
before the washing of the brain, occurs
i belong, somewhere else
my culture determined it’s self-long, before.
almost prehistoric, when God willed me life
i was molded like the likeness of him
i am gonna send a hologram
that i am full off my other side
so it will send a telegram to
break branches from the oak tree,
sow them to the torso of time
its pending greatness, i taste it's nectar
flowing like hot lava ready to explode
my i-dentity cannot be defined
in the form of fleshy cells
casted over in battle dressings,
counting pulses soaked in biscuits
only tipping scales to birth
my i-dentity is pulsating scripts on waterfalls
dripping into my aura, one tear at moment
latching on tilted wampum
slow on djembes down thighs,
in the foot-prints of, I.
of my grandfather in to the back woods
of North Carolina’s cold mountains
never connected its self to father
so i am fumbled finger with numbness
barely able to grip this newfound history
this craddle of evolution, has demented seed
that i reckon
trying to rotate its place into some characterization
my reality and fiction is mixed,
‘cos all i remember is Mama
her struggles and father looks like me,
but trans-parent
i hug my soul for staying close to home,
to the streets of Pittsburgh,
i i-mprint my spirit
before the washing of the brain, occurs
i belong, somewhere else
my culture determined it’s self-long, before.
almost prehistoric, when God willed me life
i was molded like the likeness of him
i am gonna send a hologram
that i am full off my other side
so it will send a telegram to
break branches from the oak tree,
sow them to the torso of time
its pending greatness, i taste it's nectar
flowing like hot lava ready to explode
my i-dentity cannot be defined
in the form of fleshy cells
casted over in battle dressings,
counting pulses soaked in biscuits
only tipping scales to birth
my i-dentity is pulsating scripts on waterfalls
dripping into my aura, one tear at moment
latching on tilted wampum
slow on djembes down thighs,
in the foot-prints of, I.