THE PEACE THAT KEEPS ME RADICAL

The Peace that Keeps me Radical

This is the piece that keeps me radical, cuz otherwise I might forget-

Cuz livin here in New York, you can slip into that ‘just chillin’ hanging out mindset…

So I spit to kick me back to that broken down shack

In slums outside of Quito where my cousin Marcelo died from doing crack,

I spit to slap me with the fact that every time I pay a tax

I help this government murder innocent people in Iraq,

Believe me:  there’s nothing conservative or liberal about that-

And so to keep me radical, I spit to take me back

Back to West African villages where poverty pillages

My friends like Almustafa who I know are still living in utter desperation,

Because these are the people and places that should shape my political view-

Not Fox or CNN, the New York Post, or Daily News…

See I use reality to keep my politics in order

And when I feel a little moderate I spit this trip down to the border,

La frontera where over 1,500 of my people made their graves over the last three years

I keep it radical for each of them and for all their family’s tears,

And if it appears that being radical is too intense for me to fit in

All the more reason for me to be here spitting the piece that keeps me radical…

Cuz it’s the same peace being demanded by the prisoners of Guantanamo,

The peace Native Americans deserved when they fought along side Geronimo

This piece of skin torn from a mother’s limb when Lebanon was bombed,

This piece of porcelain that reminds her kids of her, now that she is gone,

The peace of Muslim prayer calls and the peace of Christian psalms,

This piece that keeps me sewn into the fabric of every sweatshop,

The last piece of bread before the famine stole the whole crop,

The sharp piece of genius that my friends keep hidden under hoods,

And this piece that reminds me that it ain’t easy to be good

And I should be proactive like families hustlin’ in the hood,

Always keep it moving cuz doing nothing is not peace-

Forget slamming for a score, this is my only way to breathe

Cuz art is more than my release

When my commander and chief is a slanderous thief,

When I’m standing neck deep, in the blood of my peeps,

And I can’t keep my head above water much longer,

I spit to the dead and I said in their honor,

Forgive me and give me the peace to be stronger,

…And this is what they left

They left this breath in my lungs to be sung…

When my people being murdered and the poets are silenced by the state,

I’ll spit this peace to conquer hate

In streets and then in courtrooms,

I’ll yell it in my cell until they throw me in the hole

And covered by their darkness, I will hold this piece of light,

That I see children’s eyes that reminds me why we fight,

From here I’ll spit the depth of it, tears cried beside the desolate

And no amount of hours and no governmental powers,

Will sicken me with mediocrity or turn me into a coward

Because radical means rebuilding all the peace that they’ve devoured…

And if you didn’t hear me then let me spit it louder…

I want Peace from the Bronx to Baghdad to Sierra Leone,

Peace for the 80 million people without a home,

I want Peace in Bolivia, Mexico y Ecuador-

Peace built on policies that stop keeping my people poor,

I want peace on my block between us and the police,

I want peace between America and the entire Middle East,

I want peace so bad and still I gotta want it more-

I gotta want it more than these weapons companies want war!

Still I struggle for this peace and if you look you’ll see that in my eyes,

They blood shot red because real men are not afraid to cry,

I’m not afraid to say that I believe peace is possible…

But Peace is Radical my people

Radical means to the root and the root of peace is truth,

And if we got the courage to admit it, the root of peace is me and you

Remember this life shouldn’t be easy for any,

While life is this hard for this many

So if ever lose my radical point of view…

Just spit this peace to wake me up

And I promise, I’ll come back to you.

-Despierto.