Ghetto Queens, Part II

Notice, there’s no “Part I”.

That’s because I have hundreds of poems, and I just happened to be editing this one, and I don’t feel like posting the first part. (Promise to post it later) But I have the feeling you might like this one anyway. Enjoy!

 

 

we Ghetto Queens

ruling the night

claws clamped down onto cash cocks

with my costly coochie clutch

abused since birth

exploited, educated, entrapped

on this earth

no man to lead me by the hand

provide shelter for my seed

left behind to feed

my baby, myself, my greed

i cook

i clean

i bleed

five days and i don’t die

forced to live the fallacy

of loving ghetto life

keepin it real—

a lie

survive on asphalt prisons

destined to serve life sentences

fueled by my nakedness

i strike

with the only sword i yield

i feel, i deal, i steal

your lives

i play, i sway,

betray your wives

command my stroll with Satanic stride

feed your death to my pride

inject me intravenously with

Coach, Gucci, Louis Vitton

Lexus, leather, Sean Jean

Donna Karan

Guess why i spend my

nights impaled on my back for you

black of the night beaming down

mother’s soul frowns on what i’ve become

what drove me to you

what makes me soar

what i live for

but the best of you

still greens with envy

my wink can make your

husbands and fathers and brothers

spend time in me

baby, don’t you judge me cause

America, you created me

though these streets enslaved me

hated me

X-rated me

my life calling is pleasure

and i hold the treasured loot

body of honey milk passion fruit

lick my nectar, nigga

take this pie in the sky

that awaits he who lives the lie

of loving his queen

yet can be seen with me

going to Hell

punany potion moisten swell

lubricate lustful well

long enough to make you rise

from the ashes of my thighs

give me life

give me death

hasten my last breath

ancestors beckoned me back

but birth has banished me

to the belly of the beast

better than the Proverbial bad wife

John can keep his life

my body has been breeched

as i turn sweaty

acrobatic back seat feats

for survival on these streets

most of all, my own brothers got me

dropping it hot, like the

ghetto dance floor remix

girl, set your thickness

on my prickness

wanna eat you for dinner

what’s the matter, baby?

don’t you like my spinners?

we are your mothers

your sisters

your daughters

alone we tread deep dangerous waters

left behind to fend for your babies

using the temple God gave me

in the way your selfish flesh laws

made me

coulda been a teacher

a doctor

a better mother

but thanks to pain and hunger

i’m nothing more

than another monarch of the moment

ruling the night

in my dreams

on these streets

sentenced to you serve as a

slave of the day

poisoning your minds in videos

life cameos

and club scenes

through your moral mistakes

cast yourselves into the fire

along with me

this is the reign

of Ghetto Queens…

 

Ghetto Queens, part II

© 2007

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “Ghetto Queens, Part II

  1. Monty

    Spit!

    Some of your poetry really speaks from the streets, my friend. As I read this one, I can envision a stroll in any big city that has a ghetto. Damn good piece.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s