The Journal of an Angry Black Man

Before God can plant a seed, the ground must be prepared Without the breaking up of soil, no harvest can be shared Right now my life seems all a mess, confusion to and fro But that's just God, breaking up my weeds, so that his fruit can grow I've taken life for granted, and have not always done my best I'm now, embarrassed and ashamed, and unprepared for God's test God's test is not much different than the ones I took in college He wants to measure what I've learned, my growth in wisdom and knowledge His seeds need soil, rich and fertile, nurtured by the waters of life It will hold the roots of the fruits that grown, steady through turmoil and strife Breaking the soil is not easy work, it often brings sweat and tears But the reward is great, and evident in the fruit that soil yields So even though my days might be dark, like the soil in which gardens grow God's seeds are sprouting within me, and soon will start to show And from one s

Why am I so easily angered? What makes my mouth so slick? How do I go from 0-100 Real fast, real easy and real quick? I'm not a hateful person at all And I try to show love when I can But why do I have to be nice to those Who try me like I'm a boy and not a man? I hate the abuse of authority Or using a position to put others down Yet those same folk who stepped all over me Expect my extended hand to help them not to drown Why should I apologize for my good life? For loving parents and excelling in school And yield to trouble makers and high school dropouts Who are now paying the price for playing the fool I know my attitude is not perfect But I try hard, despite what others see Only Jesus was perfect, and I am not him i was created and given life to be me So maybe I'm supposed to feel angry at times Because it ignites that passion within But I have to control it, and not let it control me That's the difference between boys and men So the

I miss falling asleep with his locs in my face And my hand rubbing across his belly I miss white seedless grapes, and Welch's Fruit Snacks And my favorite, peanut butter and jelly I miss all my music, Jill Scott and Badu Tupac, Outkast and Queen Bey I miss having windows, seeing the trees For real I must miss being free I miss Uncle Wendell, may he rest in peace I miss my girlfriends and my crew I miss Aunt Bert's breakfast, bacon, eggs and toast I miss looking up and seeing the sky is blue I miss all my clothes, my closet and my room I miss all my books and my art I miss seeing frames with pics of my family Even though they are etched in my heart I miss being able to walk to the store Or to the field to watch the boys and girls play I miss all the familiar slang and speech Like "jamk", "lightning bugs" and "Out the way" I miss everything and almost everyone My dreams remind me of it every night But soon enoug

They've already been to prison And that's where their minds are stuck Because they talk and behave like prisoners The definition of "State Struck" They play spades all day, and argue And yell at each other across the table They never want to watch the news And I doubt they get the concept of cable They think they're big fish in a little pond But more like tadpoles inside a drop They run whack jokes into the ground And have no clue when to stop To them every woman is a bitch Especially when they don't get their way They complain of hunger, then complain about the food They're miserable and unhappy either way I refuse to be just like them I keep my dignity intact 'Cause they're on their way to prison again But I'm going home and that's a fact

Can you believe that I still dream of getting high Even after being here for 85 days In my sleep I buy a dime, and roll up a blunt And smoke and try to wake up still John Blazed But it isn't just weed that my mind craves anymore It's the process and the act of getting high Because it gives me the chance, to leave reality behind And just float, like a cloud up into the night sky I'm a drug addict, and it's not easy to admit But being real is my best shot at escaping death I've smoked tons of weed, snorted likes of coke But I fucked up when I shot up with meth We've all heard this saying, at some point in our lives "What's good to you ain't always good for you" Well that shit felt too great, and I knew it was no good Because it took days before my body recovered I'm not proud of that shit, but I live in my truth And maybe I can help someone else avoid it Because depression is a lie, and when you think you&

I'm ready to leave, I'm ready to roll Can someone come get me from up out this hole? I've completed my time, all 45 days I've learned my lesson, and changed my ways Let me go back to my pod so I'm able To eat like a human and sit at a table I want to watch tv, and talk on the phone So I can know daily, what's happening at home This has been worse than jail, more like captivity I wouldn't wish this on my Mama's worst enemy PETA wouldn't let anyone treat a dog this way But for us, it's legal and somehow okay You never have to worry about me coming here again I'll keep my thoughts to myself, or write them down with a pen And for the next bout of cussing and yelling I feel Instead of giving in to it, I'll go into prayer and kneel And ask God to help, and give me self control Because I never want to end up back here in the hole

Today I got a message from one of my cousins that my Daddy was in ICU. I didn't know what to think then and I don't know what to think now. I've been to visit, and got to see my sisters and a few of my nieces and nephews while at the hospital. My Daddy and I have not always had the most loving and respectful of relationships, but as time has passed and we've both grown older, we have a new type of love and respect for one another that seems to work well. Seeing him laying there weak and tired, really messed with me. But isn't this a part of life? Everyone we love will some day pass on, whether we're alive to witness it or not. My Daddy has been sick for quite a while now, but this is the first time he's unexpectedly been hospitalized and it's an unnerving situation to deal with. There's nothing that I want or need to say to him that I've left unsaid. Every time we see one another we embrace and I always tell him that I love him. Years

The last time I checked, "Bro" was short for brother And to my current knowledge, we don't have the same mother Growing up we never shared a room or any clothes And clearly we do not have the same wide-ass nose Is your daddy named Bennie? Was his mama named Amy? Then cut that shit out, and stop fake trying to claim me We really aren't homies, and certainly not friends You're only in my face because you see I got ends ]Yeah, I got a few niggas, that I refer to as "Bro" But they've proven their love and loyalty long ago And I didn't just meet them when I came to this jail We've laughed through the good times and cried through our hell They've been in my corner, on my side for years They know my shortcomings, and even my fears So excuse me if you think I'm feeling some type of way Because I truly only have one brother, and his name is Neavrae

Yeah, that's right I'm gay. But nigga what's it to you? If you're straight then what I am don't matter. Unless you're on the DL, and frontin' undercover. Trying to serve up some ass on a platter. Nigga I'm flattered, but that's not how I roll. Besides, this band on my finger mean's I'm taken. And even if I wasn't you'd still have no chance. 'Cause I'm turned off by your frontin' and fakin'. Nigga quit playing, quit smiling in my face Weren't you just braggin' bout having all the hoes? Well then call them hoes up, and go spit game to them Because your rap is so tired and it shows. Boy Bye, Nigga! I'm still not trying to hear it. And I don't think you quite understand. You ain't shit in my world, not worth a nut, or a squirrel. And I told you, I already got a man!