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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781456701253 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 01/24/2011 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 1 MB |
Read an Excerpt
Acid Sugar Cane
By Tisean M. Bell
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 Tisean M. BellAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4567-0124-6
Chapter One
Life (As I Know It)
My Love, My Passion, My Obsession
I treat you like a lover that I don't want ANYONE disrespecting.
I can't see how anyone could NOT love you, NOT adore you,
and NOT find solace in you.
But I suppose that is just how much you mean to me.
I see the God in your face as you inspire me to express my truest
self.
The scent of your progress astounds me.
I grow when you do.
In fact it is you who assists in the building of my character.
I can only hope that the way we make love will be written in stars
forever,
creating a new orbit.
You are my King or Queen on any given day.
I'm grateful that you came into my life and I pray you never leave.
Poetry ... My Love ... My Passion ... My Obsession.
Sweet Freedom
Lord set me free.
My soul is thirsty.
Only poetry can quench me.
God given gifts.
I long to share with all who hear YOU.
My Name
I give GOD the praise from whom all blessings flow and melodies of
eloquent delivery are arranged.
I became a spearhead in the game.
Looking through lenses of broken frames.
But I spit this truth from the abyss of my inner pits just the same ...
And someday I guarantee the world will know my name.
I write for those who struggle in overpopulated ghettos and those
desensitized to poverty.
For those feeling like they are undeserving of God's sovereignty ...
I climb through the ink-covered hills to prevent the devil from
swallowing me ...
I give words legs to run with so y'all can ride on the clouds wit' me.
Addicted to this poetry shit 'cause I need to get high off somethin' ...
In my mind I hear the harps & drums sweet sounds of percussion.
I'd end up a slave behind four white padded walls if I didn't believe
in somethin'.
So I'll continue to be a VOICE while my heart is still pumpin'.
Can't focus on the naysayers or the snakes that slide through.
If your feeble mind can't appreciate the words then pause, let ME
guide you.
I got a million ways to paint pictures and feed your soul Nirvana's
food.
I put you on a new plateau and write to inspire a positive, abundant
mood.
So like I said I give GOD the praise from whom all blessings flow ...
He gave me the gift to speak his words and to truly show ...
How a little black girl who came from nothing could rise up and
grow ...
I refuse to let my environment define me and negate all triumphant
change.
To embrace immaculate experience and receive heart felt fame ...
I spit the truth from the abyss of my inner pits just the same ...
And some day I guarantee the world WILL know MY name!
Just some random words really
StoneHenge
I woke up today with StoneHenge on my shoulders.
A weight so heavy that I was introduced to Adult Scoliosis.
Can't stand tall because I continue to be beat down.
Dear StoneHenge, why do you cast lots on my spirit?
I have dreams but can't see them because of the shadows over me.
Dark storm clouds of life.
Constantly being released yet filled up.
Raining with a slow harvest.
How can I be fruitful when I have nothing to multiply?
You can't flip zero.
So I kneel here ... with StoneHenge on my shoulders.
Praying to Heaven for a sign or a miracle.
But miracles don't seem to exist when bills are due and collectors are
Satan's spawns,
asphyxiating hope.
No compassion for the fatherless.
No love for the starved ...
No interest in single mothers who have no means to make ends meet
halfway ...
No sensitivity for the sensitive, and ...
Well,
No concern for the poor.
They walk past the homeless as if they are airborne disease ... they
Threaten to take homes when the family can't pay ... they
Don't care about those who have been unemployed for so long ...
Or those freshly laid off like ...
They never did a good job.
When will it end?
Big business only cares for those who can keep generating revenue.
Not realizing that all the riches in the world can't cure
unhappiness.
Spirits are lowly ...
Smiles are snatched like kids in the park by pedophiles.
Everyone is looking for a MORTAL savior.
Because they feel like God has lied.
They say ... if God was real then why?
Why no health care for those dissolving from cancer and ...
No love for the people who were born to be different even if it means
loving someone with the same form as theirs and ...
No respect for those who refuse to be clones and ...
No second thoughts of soldiers committing suicide on war grounds
and ...
No limelight for those doing good in the world.
Look at the news ...
Life's "big screen" strictly showing Rated R endings.
Hypocrisy running ramped ... they
Ask how can there be a God when,
He lets these things happen ...
More demons than angels,
More nightmares than dreams ...
More death than life ...
More darkness than light ... More
Problems.
I woke up today with StoneHenge on my shoulders.
A weight so heavy that I was introduced to Adult Scoliosis.
Can't stand tall because I continue to be beat down.
Dear StoneHenge, why do you cast lots on my spirit?
I know why, because without warriors like me ...
Voice boxes would remain on mute indefinitely and ...
People would feel destined to drown in the pool of their solitude ...
and ... There would be no one to relate to ...
So because of StoneHenge, I ...
I BREATHE poetry.
One moment at a time ... One day at a time ...
Lifetime experience ...
Building into history ... captured through my hazelnut lenses ... a
"Human Nikon"
StoneHenge ... I know
I have to go through it ...
Because if I don't, who else will vocalize tears that
Fall on blind eyes and deaf ears?
Pure Soliloquy
I speak even if no one is listening.
'Cause truth be told the world speaks volumes through walls that
once danced among dancers.
All the world's a stage for anyone possessing dreams beyond galactic
moon mansions.
I'm tripping the light fantastic with eloquence.
Expressing my deepest emotion, though vulnerability frightens me.
My life is Pure Soliloquy.
If you don't hear me at first you will later on.
By me occupying spaces that were once empty corners of earth and
encompassing them with my charm.
I will go above and beyond what's necessary ...
Because Poetry will never be secondary.
So whether you hear me or not YOU WILL LISTEN.
Listen to the cries from our ancestors that resurfaced through today's
educated.
Yesterday's manipulated turned reinstated.
Reinstated with the attitude of knowing ...
That our voices will never go unheard as long as we have poetry,
spoken word,
language, music, dance, praise, worship.
Take notice!
The speechless will become vocal.
The paralyzed will become mobile.
Humility will precede inheritance.
We will inherit the earth because I'm giving my soul.
Speaking through Soliloquy until my likeness is known.
I'm gonna get through to someone at some time or at some place.
Until then I participate in Pure Soliloquy echoing words to outer
space.
Poetry Ain't Hip Hop
Poetry ...
Ain't ...
Hip Hop.
Repeat:
Poetry ...
Ain't ...
Hip Hop.
It lies deeper than mere ho baggin', "swag" surfin', and fanciful
lifestyles.
For us, this art is the blues ...
Echoing ghost whispers of Billie Holiday in Harlem.
THIS art ...
is the love song composed over guitar strings
and passionate percussion of drums in Rock & Roll.
Poetry is the spirituals sang by the ancestors trying to get closer to
God after lifetimes of picking cotton.
It is New Gospel.
Poets, Wordsmiths, Spoken Word Artists, Haiku Extraordinaires,
what have you ...
We are the voices for those with permanent emotional laryngitis.
We ...
Scream from rooftops to create thunder in the darkest basements.
The basements of beautifully human hearts ...
Hearts shattered from broken families ...
Souls torn from the pangs of boundless famine ...
Morale downsized by the government's immorality.
Poetry is ...
Everything that TODAY'S Hip Hop is NOT.
Poetry is ...
What Hip Hop once WAS.
Unity.
An Outlet.
Love.
Hate of all things unrighteous.
Diverse.
Powerful.
Refreshing.
Positive.
Hip Hop today ...
Hmm ... I guess it still could be called Hip Hop ...
HOP around Nigga!
Jump Koon!
Have a video girl on your HIP.
Act like a monkey and speak of things that don't uplift.
Continue to party and bullshit
While the youth look up to the whips and the chains ...
Instead of looking up to teachers and enhancing their brains.
Poets don't hop up out the bed and turn "swag" on.
We turn LIGHTS on ... in MINDS.
We turn LIFE on ... in SOULS.
We turn PAGES and ACTUALLY write quality.
We bleed lyrics lost in translation only to be overshadowed by modern
day "Sambos".
We say more than some witty hook laced over auto-tune and strong
baselines.
We say what GOD tells us.
For, HE is the dopest producer.
I'm sick of the comparisons ...
So don't say Poetry & Hip Hop are brothers ...
More like 5th
cousins related by marriage.
Not even recognizable at the annual "Family" Reunion.
No direct bloodlines ...
The blood has been thinned by mainstream mind frames.
But there is nothing mainstream about poetry.
We do it for the ART ... and not the dollar.
The illest poets never go platinum ...
But continually sprinkle PRICELESS gems over eardrums and
eyelids.
Hip Hop spreads lies.
Poetry saves lives ...
So, while people constantly argue over which rapper is "hot",
Poetry will forever be somethin' TODAY'S Hip Hop
Is NOT.
The Truth About Barbie
39-18-33
The ORIGINAL measurements of HER.
Model-esque physique that unsullied pre-pubescent eyes longed to
achieve.
Even before moments of becoming a woman came to be.
Self-hatred for minorities stemmed long before her arrival.
From slave ships to auction blocks sun scorched women of Venus
had been told
in more ways than one that THEY weren't beautiful.
No ... I mean WE weren't beautiful.
That WE were useless.
That WE were inferior.
1959 ...
A time where Civil Rights Acts stirred in the hearts of our most
memorable leaders.
We ...
Awaited that day when it would be okay to be US.
Descendents of Amina, Candace, Cleopatra, Hatshepsut, and Makeda
adorned with the life breath of Oshun ...
We had long forgotten what it felt like to be called ...
BEAUTIFUL.
And to add salt to the wounds of whip lashed backs and noose-
charred necks ...
Arose a different "queen"
BARBIE ...
Hailing from Malibu ...
Never once introduced to hard work and sacrifice.
For her plastic life ...
Was PERFECT.
Flawless ... she was.
Hair blonde like the finest sand grains on Amerikkka's beaches.
Eyes like freshly laid robin's eggs.
The poster child for grace and elegance.
Our nation's Prima Donna
BARBIE ...
As if we didn't lack enough positive representation in this world,
Mothers buying their daughters fragmented esteem and mangled
dreams.
Destined to build imaginary lifestyles around a woman who looked
nothing like them.
Who looks NOTHING like US.
Shades ranging from almond chai to chocolate mousse ...
Less than equal ...
Until her sequels ...
"Hispanic & Black" were introduced in 1980.
For 21 years ... our babies ...
Waited for the time when they too ...
Could hail from Malibu.
Only to find that chocolate goddess still left on shelves to collect
loathsome dust.
Because even still it was wrong to embrace US.
Brain washed over generations that SHE couldn't possibly look like
ME or YOU.
Royalty ejected from Gold Encrusted thrones.
Only to claim videos as their new home.
Binge and purge if you want that part.
Gotta be light and "exotic" not TOO dark.
No dessert if you wanna bounce them titties next to Diddy.
"Smile for the camera Bitch" ... "Ooh ain't she pretty?"
Chestnut Blonde Yaki streaming down your back.
Can't be natural either.
Inhale that creamy crack.
Disgraced.
New-Age BARBIE ...
Instead of New-Age Nefertiti ...
Word to KP.
So the "movement" keeps movin as we stray away from how God
made us.
This glitz and glamour ... all outrageous.
Fancy clothes and designer bags ... It's all a Mirage ...
And when things couldn't get worse ...
She arises again ...
Harajuku BARBIE
In the form of Nicki Minaj.
The hatred keeps spewing through everyday life.
Hard work disowned if you can be a rapper's trick tonight.
Do anything for everything.
It's all about the money.
"Shake that ass ... work it honey."
What will it take to get our self worth back?
When will we wake up and realize ...
The original BARBIE ...
Wasn't BLACK?
Black Face Minstrels
Hatred.
An intense dislike or ill will.
If I was ill ...
Will you then LOVE me?
See because I can't understand why you pretend that you are my
friend when deep down you hate me.
You hate the way I look; you hate the way I dress ...
You hate my hair, you hate my style.
However you continue to smile ...
in my face.
Like everything is cool.
Like you accept my natural beauty for what it is.
You hate the fact that you don't look like me and I don't look like
you.
In your mind I'm just another nappy-headed jiggaboo.
Kinky and knotty locs, enhanced by jewelry and golden ankhs.
A disgrace.
So in my face you ... reject me from your workplace.
Maybe if my eyes were as blue as the ocean's you drowned my
confidence in
or my hair was straight as the tree bark by which you lynched my
great great grandfather from ...
You would let me walk into those Jim Crow gates.
The gates by which Koon infested dreams are made of as long as I ...
I conform to what YOU think is beautiful.
If I don't conform you will indirectly cause me to ingest your fucked
up mentality through society.
Skin whitener coupled with "Dark & Lovely" Hair straightener ...
The irony.
You HATE the way I look yet ... those who look like you strive to look
like me.
Teaspoons of collagen meals to plump lips and implants to create
hips.
Really?
The modern day "Black Face"
You hate me so much you decided to duplicate the likes of my
ancestors.
Royal heirs of Imhotep and Nefertiti ...
While you are busy changing your appearance to look like my
people ...
You are inciting hatred among my culture.
Light Skin vs. Dark Skin
Willie Lynch linguistics 101
If I hear another one of my "brothers" call another Nubian Prince or
Princess "darkie" again ...
I just might cringe ...
What kind of mind set are you in?
Slave owners making mulatto babies ...
Left to suffer for not being enough of either race ...
I'm tired ...
Of tunnel vision all people seem to have when it comes to identity.
Because whether WE like it or not
WE carry the same bloodlines ...
No matter if it's a little or a lot ...
In large areas or minute spots ...
Few & far between ...
We all have a bit of each other bursting through the seams ...
Stop the hate.
Mercury Rising
My oh my how life has changed.
People were closer.
Days were longer.
Now we claim "I don't have time."
God gave us 24 hours.
How are you using yours?
Exhibit A
Dates and outings with friends and loved ones are no longer that.
What happened to intense quality conversation?
Now: ((click click click))
Checking the cell phone every 5 minutes.
She wonders: "Are we not having a conversation?"
He wonders: "Is what I'm saying even important?"
Mercury is rising.
Put down the bullshit.
Exhibit B
School is out.
What is there to do?
NOTHING.
Let's watch TV, go online, or play video games!
Things just aren't the same.
What happened to READING books?
It is fundamental ISN'T it?
What happened to equipping our minds?
Now we have Facebook, Twitter, and Xbox Live.
No more dinners at the family table because we have all these
gadgets.
iPod's, Cell Phones, DVR ...
What has happened?
Everyone is in a rush "to get things done."
Spending genuine face time is no longer fun.
What happened to TRUE Child rearing?
Where is the village?
Seems like societies priorities are electronically put on pivot.
Mercury is rising.
Put down the bullshit.
Exhibit C
Doctor's visits on the up and up.
Cancer, sickness, poor vision ... what is it?
Radioactivity flowing yet we continue to indulge in it.
Bluetooth in our ears constantly worried about missed calls.
My grandparents are almost 80 years old and all they had was the
traditional phone plugged in the wall.
Can't we even see where we all are going wrong?
"Reality TV" taking over the screen.
That's the new aged theme song.
In all actuality it isn't that Real.
We now send texts or e-mails to express how we feel.
No more hand written letters sent in the mail.
We are becoming so programmed and wonder why relationships
fail.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Acid Sugar Cane by Tisean M. Bell Copyright © 2011 by Tisean M. Bell. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
What Is Acid Sugar Cane?....................xvChapter 1: Life (As I Know It)....................1
Chapter 2: Love (From A Not So Distant Past)....................41
Chapter 3: The Pursuit of Happiness (Or The Semblance Of It All)....................95