Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?


But for real, when a drug addict (or alcoholic, or homeless guy… we really don’t know what’s going on with them) asks you for money, do you give it to him? Something my mother once said… Yeah, he might be a drug addict–but how do you know he won’t eat with the money you’re going to give him? Which is worse:  gambling with giving an addict not-enough-money-to-get-high, or letting a hungry man stay hungry when you actually LIE to him about having enough to buy him a sandwich?

Decisions, huh?

Well, I feed the homeless regularly and very often buy someone who is begging a cup of coffee, a sandwich or whatever. God tells me to feed the hungry, he doesn’t tell me to try and figure who’s really hungry and who’s running a hustle. To be honest, that’s his job–not mine.

On top of that, how can we expect our Creator to bless us when we refuse to bless others? There are some basic things that every man must have, and we must count compassion and charity and selflessness among them. You show me a man who refuses to give an insignificant amount of money to the poor, and I will show you one selfish mother fucker. Excuse the language.

I really don’t have a lot to talk about right now, I got to make a run to get some butter pecan ice cream… it’s an emergency. But I did want to share the following poem, it’s a subject that was on my mind last night in conversation so I thought it would be appropriate for a blog entry today. Considering that every holiday in this country we waste money in fast food joints, overeat at barbeques, drink too much, and then complain about getting too fat and needing to work out in a land where people who we pass every day will close out their night hungry. Something to think about.

Enjoy the piece, and thanks for visiting my blog.



can you spare a dime?

Ran outta gas down the way

need ta eat

tired feet

from running all these lines:

got me a job

but i’m stuck in this town

need ta borry $40 to get a Greyhound

back ta Oaktown

i’ll be back tomorrow

same place, same time

forget the dime—

brotha can you spare me a quarter?

baby needs milk

get my stamps lata

some place you could take me

i’ll work if you make me

if I don’t get my sugar up, i’ll die!

baby, look…

you look like you got a job

don’t ask me why

loan me a dollar

so a brother could get high?

Man got his boot on my throat

foot up my behind

tax man robbing me blind

i’m a soldier of the 60s, baby

i’ll NEVER work for the white man

uh, black man,

could you lend a brother a hand?

A leg?

Yo life?

Got this crack on my head

all my sense done leaked out

needle holes closed

bout to freak out

spent my future lying

need to sneak out

lines paint these forearms

like tiger stripes

no, zebra skin

got a death clutch on sin

got me clinging to life


cleverly claiming countless carefree crackcoons

clustered on corners

in our community (click-click)

Nigroe gimme yo money

got to feed my daughter

her name is Greed

last name Jones

got a itchin in my bones

got me pimping my hoes

got me sniffing my nose

twitchin for stones

I represent the meek of the earth

Reverend, let me inherit what you’re worth

white man been feeding me lies

bout being color blind

now i’m paralyzed

been leaning so long on this crutch called racism

can’t feel my legs

so I beg

back broke under the burden

beseeching me to blame behavior

on brutal backgrounds

of this cross I bear

now i’m bending over backwards

the least respected boy on the block

i’m an addict

doomed to shooting up


taught that life is hard, so fake it

taught that I will never make it

taught when I need something i’ll take it

unaware that the glass ceiling

is nothing more than a platform I push

with my mind

as I rise

but I sink to levels

frozen in time with closed eyes

impotent by design

I need to feed my weakness

 with weapons



gotta get the chains of slavery

off my mind

but in the meantime

baby just read the sign:


Can you spare dime?


“brother, can you spare a dime?”


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