deepundergroundpoetry.com

A Tree Grows In Brooklyn

A forsaken seed
Planted in the bowels of life's gulag
Left as a fleeting memory
Skeeted between heated thighs
I emerge from my sarcophagus of molded brick
Decorated in lead painted walls
Its cracks resembling the tracks of my veins
A lifeline defined by Nightrains and Thunderbirds
Yet no eagles soar above my horizons
..just the local gentry of vultures
Plucking the flesh of zombies...

Humble beginnings yes....

My roots push through manhole covers
I arise a tree with broken branches
Drenched in the raw sewage of my past
My ghetto redolence wafting past olfactory senses
Of those who were there at the prejudging
Broadcast on television ...

Whachu talkin bout Willis?
...hard times are GOOD TIMES
Put an "H" on your back and handle it
Get accustomed to candle lit wakes on street corners
Adorned with flowers after last night's showers of bullets
..who died?

Na-quan
Darnell
Tyrone

Fuck it..ya'll can fill in the rest.
Hmmmm?
Should I invest in a vest?
Guard my tree from those under arrested development
Always under arrest in housing developments
...never that!
Fear and I cannot tread the same path...
Maximus said it best:
Death is always smiling on you.
...all a man can do is smile back..SAY CHEESE!...
Then wink at the Reaper
This ghetto fixture thinks I'm a keeper
A mixture of the gift and the curse
He sits atop my anointed hearse shoutin lewd obscenities

...disrespectful bastard..

Yet I keep it pushin..shrewd and focused
Co-existin between Kings County and the Brooklyn Zoo
My pedigree self evident
I battled resident evil
Got knife marks left deep in my tree barks
Igniting 80's nostalgia
I spark a spliff cop a fifth then indulge in the
Herbal essence and 80 proof libations
Givin spirited lamentations
For the most thorough of the borough
Passin legacy left in hollowed footprints on the streets and aves
Filled with 40 ounces
Where the have-nots pounced on the haves.......

BRoOKLyN STyLE BaBY...AnTe uP!

Took from shook ones
... look son...maybe you still ain't done...
Brownsville..never ran never will
But now you don't run shit...
Still..maybe the SUN can do for you
What it did for I
As I saw fit to tune my EYE to the God in I...
An arm
A leg
A leg
An arm
Supreme Head
And fed my temple with the heated rays
Let photosynthesis clear my vision
See the true nemesis that {lies} within
Turn the Light into energy
Expose the blight
Now let's get some synergy up in here

Breathe a little easier kindred.....
Inhale me as I inhale you..
Because this tree from Brooklyn only grows
With the rain...with the SUN
And the fertilization of each other
Through the Spoken Word...

Peace