Struggling while reaping no progress
Is stagnation at its best
A fighter’s reward is not found in victory
When winning is not an end result
The victory comes within the fight
As character is strengthened and dedication is unwavered
Life
Constantly searching for the unseen
With the belief one day something will be revealed
The truth is hiding behind Plymouth rocks
That symbolically block mentalities from seeing the light
Constantly giving your all when all you seek is a shot
To change the past
By pressing forward through daily battles that have blazed paths
And laid foundations undeniable and unshaken
Dying to live a life of simplicity and certainty
While living imperfectly in an imperfect world
Where society lies through history
Making untrained eyes blurred
Saturday, December 6, 2008
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The Good, The Bad, The Jersey
Two more shot in Newark, a group decries city violence
Two men were shot yesterday afternoon in an apartment building in Newark's West Ward, not far from where activists were protesting a fatal Nov. 5 shooting.
Is marching against racism really the answer?
March is planned in support of Obama...
Barack connects in Jersey
Obama team taps two state leaders
Two men were shot yesterday afternoon in an apartment building in Newark's West Ward, not far from where activists were protesting a fatal Nov. 5 shooting.
Is marching against racism really the answer?
March is planned in support of Obama...
Barack connects in Jersey
Obama team taps two state leaders
Brick City Blues by: A. Pearson
In a city where negativity brews
the energies of frustration and desperation fuse
creating a loss for words, so much for the good news
ironically, I’ve seen Blood members singing the blues
In a city where time changes by the hour
one minute it’s calm, the next second tears shower
creating puddles of pain, the pavement receives flowers
while candles illuminate a situation that towers
Over a city where at anytime attitudes can ooze
into the cracks of rationality, when that happens we all lose
It’s created a monster, the cauldron pot stews
a mixture wicked in its intention, which path will we choose
In a city which is ours, holding historical power
though over the decades we became sour
where tasteless acts of rage devours
mind frames of young brains, change is about us.
*from Written Against Cultural Stagnation
the energies of frustration and desperation fuse
creating a loss for words, so much for the good news
ironically, I’ve seen Blood members singing the blues
In a city where time changes by the hour
one minute it’s calm, the next second tears shower
creating puddles of pain, the pavement receives flowers
while candles illuminate a situation that towers
Over a city where at anytime attitudes can ooze
into the cracks of rationality, when that happens we all lose
It’s created a monster, the cauldron pot stews
a mixture wicked in its intention, which path will we choose
In a city which is ours, holding historical power
though over the decades we became sour
where tasteless acts of rage devours
mind frames of young brains, change is about us.
*from Written Against Cultural Stagnation