Black to the Future

Happy Black History month! Hey check it...in honor of Black History, I'm reading one of Dad's new books on the Civil Rights movement. It's called 'At Canaan's Edge' and it's real engaging because it focuses on how the movement started taking different paths. That LBJ character was a hoot. I wish I could have met him and Malcolm. Anyway, this book got me thinking...where's the movement now?

Black to the future, what a funky concept
A poet with soul, brothers and sisters, let's step
Together in sync, just think about the outcome
We know where we're goin, because we know where we came from

Mona Lisa

Did you know that Schipperkes have been playas throughout history? Check out my great-great-great grandfather chillin' out with his girlfriend.

Well, it was one of those days -- not much to do
I was chillin downtown, with my old school crew
I went into a store -- to buy a slice of pizza
And bumped into a girl, her name was mona -- what?
Mona lisa (what? ) mona lisa, so men made you..
Youknowhati’msayin? so I said, excuse me, dear
My gosh, you look nice!
Put away your money
I’ll buy that slice!

How Ya Like Me Now...

It was another cold, winter night in New England. Dad was fast asleep, and I was dreamin' of raw hide. Then, from the sky, drops this drunk who lands outside of our apartment window. He starts yelling and singing. Then drops another drunk. Then another. Before you know it, there's a quartet. They're singing Spanish tunes and stumbling around. I go to the window and tell them to shut up, a dog is trying to sleep. Nothing. I yell again. Still, nothing. So I keep yelling and Dad gets up and tells me to shut up! 'Just ignore them,' he says. So I yell at him: look, I'm a dog. I hear stuff you can't and this shit is bothering me. Dad then puts a pillow of his head. They finally leave, but I'm mad. Later that night, I have this dream that I went down there and mowed them down in a tracker. That's right. A tracker. I picture their out-of-tune asses running from me, begging for me to stop. 'We're sorry, Tupac. We're sorry!' they say. I just keep driving, with my tongue out. It was great. I woke up laughing and in a good mood.

Now brothers are riding me
Like a pony
I'm no phony
I'm the only real micaroni...

Can I Kick It? (....Yes, You Can)

So dad's at work and I'm just kicking it on the futon watching some Animal Planet, right. I'm relaxing and all, then this show called 'Animal Cops Houston' comes on. And I gotta tell you, it is so stereotypical. I mean, all the pit bulls are mean fighter dogs who need to be put to sleep and all the labs and mixed poodles are poor victims who aren't being feed. Then, here come the nice humans to save the day and put all the breeds back in their place. Thanks very much, you good homo sapiens. Why don't you give us some land and a mule while you're at it. Talk about negative images on TV. It's bad enough the Chihuahua has been reduced to selling you-know-what, and greyhounds are forced to run after mechanical rabbits. I swear, if I see a Schipperke eating rats on a boat, it is going to be so on.

If you diss us, we won't even think of
Will Nipper the doggy give a big shove?
This rhythm really fits like a snug glove
Like a box of positives is a plus, love...

I Ain't Mad at Cha

I couldn't find a place to rest/Until I got that 'thug life' tattered on my chest...

I lost so many peers/I've shed so many tears

So I was just chillin' at the crib when I decided to smoke one of those cigars dad got from Mexico. Dad has a 'no smoking' rule in his apartment, but he was gone, off drinking cafe con leche somewhere. Anyway, I lit it up, and guess who walks in right before I could get my good puffs. And he still wasn't mad! Praise da Lord for that new woman. Still I rise...

Holla, Holla

So the other day my dad disappears to go out right. And he doesn't come back for a long time. While he's away, I start biting on the cloth he uses to protect his futon. I mean, I'm getting up all in there, even ruin it. Didn't mean to. Really I didn't. I'm like, 'damn, homeboy is going t be mad.' Anyway, dad finally comes home around the time the sun is hitting snooze button on the alarm clock. Dad walks in, pets me, looks at the cloth, and I'm thinking, this is it for me. I had a good life. But then he gives me a hug and goes to sleep! Nothing! Brother probably hit the bottle and partied with some real playas. I wonder if they like Schipperkes? What am I thinking. Everyone likes Schipperkes....

Until the real thing comes along...

I've recently moved across the country, and this is how I've been feeling lately...

I Feel Sad

Perhaps I protested, my different selves protested.
Maybe, I said, they said, I am afraid,
I'm going, we're going. I don't come from this place.
I wasn't born doomed to be ostracized.
I ask forgiveness of the audience.
I come back to find my own particular feathers.
Let me go back to my own happiness,
to the wild shadows, to horses,
to the black smell of winter in the forests,
I cried out, we cried, and in spite of everything
they didn't open doors
and I stayed, we stayed,
swithering,
not living or dying destroyed
by perversity or power,
still unworthy, driven out
from wholeness and from cultivation.

-- Pablo Neruda