soul speakings


is where I find my grounding
sweet melody of the pounding
how am I
how am I
how will I continue this journey
that was set before me
by those who paved the ways for us
to fully breathe the
air in the sky
telling me to breathe good in
EXHALE but don’t say goodbye
cause it is all connected
the binaries are necessary
they balance what we often hold to
the contrary
like the ways I need you and
you need me
not sayin’ that we’re one big happy family
once we get past all the bullsh*t
we’ll realize what was lost and
who was the real culprit:

THE ONES who took our sovereignty
and forced their men upon our lands
THE ONES who stole our culture and
wiped blood

stand on your land and feel the vibrations
the incantations, prayers, and songs of First Nations
find your way back to move forward to the future
cause the past is still changing and we gotta choose to nurture
the next generation so they can understand
why we work to bring back the old ways– the original plan
of our CREATOR
give thanks and be glad
that this is your life and that this was all they had
cause when we finally transition we will long-awaitedly see
that she him they are not that different from you and me
that brown white black need to work in tandem too
all colors and all shapes
stop hiding behind the drapes
lost in this sea of commercialized vapes
time to put on our spiritual capes
and save our Mama Earth
save our Mama Earth
yeah we need to save our MAMA EARTH…


when my mind knocks
my soul then talks
to the heart who just wants to
make art but they say she can’t do
it all unless she gets practical
factual but really what’s the actual?
does the paper speak louder
than the words that shout prouder?
do the numbers move you in ways
the desire hopes, shines, and prays?
pray for the prey so they don’t prey on you
because once you lose what they taught you
you become the daughter who fought to
keep herself alive against the demanding societal tide
keep herself above the suicidal attempts after lost love
keep yourself in motion
don’t lose yourself to the commotion
of the bass drum electronic madness
that has brought our elders into hopelessness and sadness
that has depreciated our own value as musical beings
only seeing
the skin so shallow
kids yellin’ how though
moms shoutin’ for Jesus
teachers wanna go on and leave us
a cycle that never ends
but a cycle that always begins
beginning to reveal the truth of our birth
beginning to dilute the beauty that is Mother Earth
beginning to separate the gold and the silver
and the mister from the master
and the glass from the hour
whose power still has control
over the total population no soul
can we give a little back to our humanity?
can we save ourselves from this insanity?
criticized over time
yet we still have nothing
more than a dime


for a vernacular that speaks to the
lost tongues of our ancestors
for a parallel from the perpendicular
that remembers the forgotten
instead of continuing to exclude the downtrodden

is the oppression that those came before us
had to navigate through
in order to
raise consciousness and bring forward the chorus
of voices forgotten
of people downtrodden

are the views that we hold true to be
the beauty of our lands of where we came from three
where wars were waged
and birds were caged
where hair grew long
until outsiders sought to right was they saw was wrong

then isn’t it?
how the search never ends
how the yearning continues as so the river bends
how your words sound familiar
yet in our hearts we know
the meaning was construed
mixed up from the first intrude
each intrusion confusing our tongues
each protrusion making black and heavy our lungs

is the way you look at me
with my wild long hair

you have left nothing for me
stripped away of my vernacular
left astray at the perpendicular
crossings that you have made to oppress
the voices forgotten
the people downtrodden


“A Message from Ms. Hill”

“Hip Hop started out in the heart”
why are we solely claiming it as a black art?
don’t get me wrong
I’m a believer that
they are
the ancestors and originators
as continuers
and movers of this
how did we become
the perpetrators?

Now you know I got mad love
For those who came before me
For the Higher Power above
So I don’t see how you can turn me away
Haven’t you heard the jams I play?
Haven’t you seen my melodic sway?

It’s like a pendulum
Our hearts beating in tandem
Our souls reaching higher
The desire to transcend so dire

You see
Hip Hop gave me the tools
To looks past the two-faced fools
To take back what was ours
To bring truth back to the towers
Built by the pale hands of patriarchy

To realize my people are blessed
To honor those who have confessed
We live in a society full of corruption
A world of knowledge abduction
A place where we have to think twice
Before we left our actions pay the price

A nation where our taxes go to jails
Where our families are kept behind rails
A government that hides their objectives
And behind closed doors form alternative directives

That keep you, me
him, her
they, them
Blinded by submission
Ignorant to the point blank period fact of the matter that–
We are one in the same.

Our race
Our ethnicity
Our gender
Our ability to show proof of eligibility to work in the US–
It’s all a game.

We have been molded to think
That our differences are greater
Than the world that will come later
That our successes will become
Our life’s worth in sum

But listen closely when I say
This way of thinking is not the way
Nor is there one way
of Being
of Seeing
of Believing

We have been molded to think:
consumerism > community
white > black
male > female
money and power > the final hour

But Ms. Hill told me to rethink
She guided me
And didn’t let me sink

Hip Hop saved my life
As it did yours


you can try
to shame me through
your insolence
blame me with
your “innocence”
confine me though
it is no coincidence
that my people remain
with resilience
that my words
your “eminence”

you can try
to shame me
but you cannot
will never tame me

Copyright © 2014 by Sammy Dizon. Please do not print or publish without permission.

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