Poetry

Whenever I
feel
melancholy
I remember

how other people
spend the month of December:
exposed to the elements,
trying to stay dry.

A hair's breadth
separates
that guy
from you & I.

I rode the water
when the Way seemed
clear until suddenly
it no longer appeared
like a bend in a river
after which the water
was somehow all gone
as if the Universe
watched the horrors
we inflict on ourselves
and walked away ashamed

[I wrote this poem a few weeks before my mother passed away.]

The weekend of July 4th brought me back to the east coast to rejoin Meso Creso, a crew started by some DC homies with which I've rolled since 2009, at the PEX Summer Festival. My DJ & MC set that Friday night was among my highlights of the summer.

After DJing for 4 years and MCing for over 20, this is the first recording ever to combine my beats and live vocals, so I'm quite excited to share it! My several vocal peformances include (around 31:15) this rhyme connecting the dots between our various struggles "from Ferguson to Jerusalem."

Check out a series of 9 sick remixes of NSA vs USA, or download the open source stems from which to construct your own. You can also download the extended dance floor mix from Soundcloud.

NSA vs. USA was written to be a teaching tool as much as a dance track. Below are annotated lyrics, with links to articles and reports you can read to learn more. The first step in helping "build a movement, raising your voice" is to learn history and get informed.

In my favorite place yet
I learned a great deal
for many millions together
can do amazing things

I learned a great deal
Cuba's revelatory history
can do amazing things
were we in the States aware

Cuba's revelatory history
it shows who we are
were we in the States aware
we'd do something about it.

It shows who we are
when our empire throws elbows
we'd do something about it
if it impacted us

Today was the 13th anniversary of military detention at Guantanamo Bay. After joining inspiring allies from Witness Against Torture (many of whom fasted for a week and came from all across the US) at a vigil at the White House, we marched to DC Superior Court, where I busted this rhyme about the inversion of criminal justice in America. The guilty remain free and run amok, while innocents are imprisoned en masse.

Sunday morning
on commuter rail
burned out
by a wild
adventurous night

feeling as though
mired in molasses
which has moved
even into my brain