"self-destructive" (haiku)
some days i forget
grace, walking instead in pain's
fog; self-destructive.

Time for some John Denver?

So here are some suggestions for the "Mention a Ditty" project, courtesy of my man Thanh:
1. Donny Hathaway "Someday We Will All Be Free"

2. John Newton "Amazing Grace"

3. Duke Ellington "Come Sunday" (There was a great cover of this from one of the post-Sept. 11 special at St Patrick's cathedral. The singer just moved me)

4. Tupac "Keep Your Head Up"

Thanks, Thanh!

I've been trying not to read the paper, listen to the news, or swallow the propaganda; but I have to admit, it's getting to me. The harder I try to tune it out, the more grip it has on me.

I need a healthier response to the madness. (Reading at the "Poets Against the War" event was cool, but we're still at Code Orange).

So I'm launching "Project M.A.D." (Mention A Ditty). Sounds crazy, right?

Like I said, I can't tune out the madness, so I'm trying to be conscious of how I tune in: to something life-affirming/justice-centered/soul-shakin. I'm serious, y'all. Don't make me bust out the "Keep hope alive!" Jesse Jackson archives.

I could use your help. If you are so inclined, please share links to uplifting music and/or inspiring lyrics. No limitations whatsoever with respect to genre, language, file format, etc. Just click the "send props or gripes" link at the top of the page and I'll post your suggestion(s) as soon as possible, without editorializing. If you dig a suggestion, cool; if you don't, make a suggestion. Fair enough?

To start things off, I gotta give props to DJ Eurok-- Self Realization and John Lennon-- Imagine.

Peace.

"untitled" as yet (still)

American Black buck shuffle jive
beamed worldwide 24/7 live
devoid of contextual clues, like
cargo moans to spiritual blues, and
jazz improv to freestyle dues

ghettoizing hip hop's conscious muse

not surprising since cash rules;
Bigger-ish nigroes use masters' tools
paradin through plantations draped in jewels
provin fame's just a cage for fools
who think "we real cool"

Sometimes I start sketching out poems in my Palm Pilot. Here's one that's still sitting in the "Memo" list, waiting for a gentle nudge toward completion.

"untitled" as yet

American Black buck shuffle jive
beamed worldwide 24/7 live
devoid of contextual clues, like
cargo moans to spiritual blues, and
jazz improv to freestyle dues

ghettoizing hip hop's conscious muse

not surprising since cash rules;
Bigger-ish nigroes use masters' tools
paradin through plantations draped in jewels
provin fame's just a cage for fools