Less of Home

They say you can’t stop the madness and sadness when you don’t have an address
She sits sadly on a sidewalk stoop begging humans for spare change
Not realizing that she inhabits a society that’s too cold for anyone to spare change
So she wanders aimlessly while cold eyes gallantly gait by her shamelessly
As she wonders what their response would be if her visage was more famously recognizable
But when you’re less of home you don’t amount to anything sizeable
So she finds a hole under the bridge that has failed to link her to the highway of humanity’s heart
And she reminisces about a life she no longer knows
And wonders what would have become of her if those bills weren’t so late
Or if those pills eased her aches
Or if at age 5 there was no rape by her father
But why bother because you can’t stop the madness and sadness when u don’t have an address
So she wonders what heat feels like in the cold of wintered human thought
And devilishly devises schemes that’ll lead to the warm walls incarceration
While in-cars-her-8-n-a-half-yr-old daughter swallows the dic-tation of a married man’s desires
And this just adds too much fuel to the fire of one of earth’s fallen angels
Living too close to hell in a world that resembles the devil
So disheveled she wonders how could hell be so cold
And how can another man be so bold to believe
That as he walks by in suit and t-i-e
That he could never one day be in the same place as she
And she cries out loud: “is there really no place for me?”
As she looks out at a society sick with the syndrome of selfishness and senile to serendipity
If she only had a P.O. Box so she could receive correspondence to acknowledge her existence
Or if she just had an I.D. to prove she was part of humanity
But where is city hall for the humane?
It is only at this point she realizes that day has turned to night
And the government today won’t be her knight in shining armor
But are-more of us going to keep turning our backs to the stats of those who roam, less of home?
Where is the presidential address for those without an address?
When will that bridge she sleeps under bridge the gap
Between those who preach on their soap boxes, and those who live in one?
In shopping malls she sees CNN snippets of Palestinian peace treaties and refugees returning home
She wonders how an Afghan can stand in a U.S. constructed house
While her son sits in a cardboard box with a dead mouse and pigeon for pets
She wonders whether there will be Camp David Accords
Or North American End Homelessness Agreements
For citizens abandoned by the American dream
Until that day, she strides in her reminiscent insignificance
As she trolleys through trash cans for scrapes of human sanctity
And a little leftover love from a society that once claimed her as one of its own
–But that was when she had a home
If only she had an address to stop the madness and sadness
And I want to reach out and take her in
Or maybe give her a dollar to help her achieve just one whim
And I want to say that her hopes are not too thin in a world so fat with apathy
But as I walk by her hopeless face, I complacently say to her:
“I can’t spare any change today, maybe tomorrow.”
Maybe tomorrow I can spare change
Maybe tomorrow we can all spare some change
And dare to change

***Purchase musical version of this poem on iTunes***

If Only Meghan Williams Was A Dog

If only Meghan Williams was a dog
America would finally match its bark with its bite
If only Meghan Williams was a dog
They would have rallies and protests all day and night
But you see there's no "special place in hell" for abusers of black females
But if you electrocute a bitch, then you must pay hell
If 9 men sodomized a cocker spaniel in Dunbar Village,
Almost set her on fire, molested her pup so vicious
It would make Ellen cry,
Make Fox News ask why,
Even make CNN do an investigation,
And make Russel get the ears of the Def's attention
But no Meghan, you're just a black woman
A new millennium Sara Bartman
Poked and prodded for curiosity
Which only kills cats, but rapes blacks
In America we are just not bothered
Makes me wonder if anyone in PETA has a daughter
But alas Meghan, you're just a black woman
And though we may call you a bitch behind bars by stars
Four-legged bitches are more valuable than you are
You're not even worth a rap for many, so I'll give you this poem
Just some words from your brother to let you know you're not alone
One day I promise you this mistreatment will end
As soon as we remember that a woman is man's best friend

For Maya, a healer for all humanity

This is a love letter
From a poetic son,
To mother of poetry for the human spirit
From South Africa,
To far away places like South Arkanasia
Your words of wisdom touch all humanity,
From a lover of literacy like Oprah,
To a freedom fighter like nelson Mandela
In a time where fightin' was natural,
You reminded us to never forget
That we are a human family
From the prisoner to the pusher to the poor girl,
Your prose and poetry puts all people on a parallel podium
From the aspiring junkie and the melancholy men,
To a man bigot and the phenomenal woman
You make us run the gamut
From tears of personal pleasure and pain,
To a manageable mourning grace
I's no accident that you have become our mothering blackness,
Nurturing a society suffering from the sickness of senses of insecurity
You write for us,
Who dare not dare to challenge the status quo
And you champion the cause of equality,
Only making ignorance feel insignificant
With you Maya, we saw beyond our seeming
And dreamed beyond our dreaming,
And, in retrospect,
You helped me have the prescience to also promote healing
Oh, Maya Angelou,
Maya Angelou,
May-a-angel-o-u all the blessings in heaven
That you bestow on the often heavy heart of humanity
Avec merci, Mother Maya for your vision,
And being willing to take time out to help us all be free,
And for helping me realize that when I think about myself,
It ain't that bad to me

A Tribute to President Mandela

They say never judge a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes
But what happens when the man has neither shoes nor socks to walk in?
Would you willfully walk that mile?
Would you accept all adversity with a frown and a smile?
Would you still run the race against racism with grace and style?
Would you work wearily to weave a tapestry of diversity and shared fate
Against those who continue to practice apart-hate?
Would your heart shine bright when deprived of sunlight?
Would your spirit sing a song of liberation when it's denied instrumentation?
As they tried at Robben Island to rob you of your soul
You literally rolled Rholihlahla with each punch as you crunched in your hole
We stand here because of you
We breathe freely because of you
And you walked the long walk to freedom with no shoes and socks
So that we will not have to
You walked for those without homes and even the land-dwellers
You, the son of Mother Earth
Father to a nation
Grandfather to our future
Brother to African liberation
From Cape Town to Kinshasa you led like no other
To remind us to put our arms down and hands forward to embrace one another
Because of you the world is encouraged to up rise like Soweto
So-we-too rise above the mentality of the ghetto
To claim the universe as our humble home
Overseas maligned media would disgrace the Madiba
But we saw through their lies as we looked at tattered posters into your eyes
Your hope in humanity helps us fly Tran-skeis
And when peace did not work on the path for a free way
You chauffeured us on the highway of Umkhonto we sizwe
And when so many believed that there was still no way
Your perseverance and piety led all of us nobly to the Nobel in Norway
And so we will make peace our prize
And we will walk on this path of freedom with our shoes on and heads held high
In a world where courage and pride can be hard to find like a Black Pimpernel
Because YOU have walked this earth Madiba, the future for all humanity bodes well