Revolution of a Poet

by Ghetto Girl Blue

Say sista?

How much is it gon' cost you

To lend me your ear?

Brotha man?

What's the price for me to share

A slice of my life

Over this mic?

And just how many revolutions I got to start

To keep the applause coming?

How long are you going to keep the padlock

On my panties before you will grant me

The right to heal myself

Like Tupak, chill myself

With vicarious life of poetic psalm

Like Sonia I write

Like Sonia I do so

So I don't have to kill anyone

When I heard her words

Resounding through my mind

With the force of my own voice

I was shocked to hear them

I laughed to hear them

And was soothed to feel them

Wrap themselves around

My kind of fear of death

I ain't Martin been to the mountain top

Ain't fearing any man Luther

Seen the promised land King

Ain't ashamed to say

I fear death

But then I ain't subscribing

To a school of thought

That eases that sort of thing

I fear death; I do

Much the same way as

I feared the tippy pausin'

Eel skin squeak

Of my daddy's shoes

As he crept into my room

Lay atop of me spewing


To the Christian stewardship

Rhetoric that first hipped me to

The difference between

Givers and takers

Talkers and doers

Fighters and the beaten

Ghetto Cinderellas and Drinking Dead Janes

And all the women in this room

Loving daddy's incapable of knowing the difference


Loving a girl child and abusing her

Loving a woman and fucking her

Creating shame and fits of rage

His deaf ear fell on my kicking a screaming soul

as he dragged my limp body to a place

wear sun, moon and stars are never cast

Distorted lies,

threatening eyes, my tender thighs

Spread wide

Sex and death don the same mask

and love and war are the same

Thief in my temple of Innocence

Using this, Abusing this , Confusing this

Til only the devil remembered my name

then he adds blame to my shame

forsaking womanhood

with "Oooh, God damn you baby girl...

God Damn you for looking so good!"

The only daddy I've ever known

Killed me a little bit more each time

His sweet deacon minty tongue slipped

Into my speechless mouth

You'd better not never tell nobody but

Nobody but, Nobody but,,, Who?

Would listen to a Ghetto Girl Blue

Caught in red tape raptures

Whose only answer was another

Fostered, doctored, fake ass, getting paid family

Use the term loosely

The pad became my sister,

The pen my mother

The tape recorder, my brother

The news paper my ministry

And so I write

Freedom of words blew breath

Into me until I was revived

And now Punany saves my life

Keeping me alive, maybe save

someone else's life

A little rhyme at a time

So to all the third eye motherfuckers

Hating on my kind of fear of death

Hating on Punany yet loving GGB

Still not understanding me

Don't even own a gun or even possess a permit

Talking about Revolution, Revolution, Revolution

That's pure Rhetoric

Revolution that's pure rhetoric

Telling me don't you talk about Punany

Don't you talk about Punany

Don't talk about Punany!

Well fuck me!.. For wanting to make

Love ... Not war

And so I write, and so I write

Like Sonia Sanchez,

I write

So I don't have to

Kill anyone

Revolution of a Poet by Ghetto Girl Blue

© Copyright 1999. All rights reserved by Jessica Holter. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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