Gemmed Foundations

I come from where motors and music collide 
grown where Emerald means concrete 
by way of mitten shaped waters, 
Located where mistakes are made on lakes, 
By way of shipfield, depths, 

Surrounded by abandoned destitution 
In the midst of lost and hardly ever found 
traveled bridges across freeways, 
Partied and blocked off streets, 
Splashed in housed, jacuzzies and inground pools in the backyard, 
Born of roses growing in concretes, 
Walked neighborhoods with every street named, 
has a mile attached to it

Waded, in water murky enough to hide the bodies of unfulfilled dreams, 
Educated by history, finding itself rewritten 
journeyed to the last stop on the railroad to freedom, 
Listening to trauma, make music. 
And now it’s a national sound 

Watching people as gritty, as the motors they build 
Blinded by people as flashy as the cars they build 

Manufactured in a melting pot of personalities, cultures and histories, 
Minded where abandoned buildings are overshadowed, by gentrified streets, 
Refined in history being memorialized and recreated 

Harvested, despite the destitution cultivation still occurs 
Flowing in still waters run deep while they rapidly run 
Floating on current sweeping currency under a torrent of tumultuous wave, 
Casting into lakes, deep enough to be mistaken for oceanic graves, 
Lurking the depths of a dark abyss, to become the shining glistening, light it needs 
Exploring ghetto and elocution. 
Dancing merrily in the streets. 

Living on the street, becoming a dead end at the ice cream, depot
Singing the land stretches as far as the eye can see 
Camping under nights so dark the only lights were stars in the sky above 
Trapping lightning bugs and Mason jars to see 

Hearing better be home before the streetlights are on 
Don’t let that door hit you with a good Lord split ya
who you think you’re talking to, get your hands off your imagination, 
roll your eyes one more time they gonna get stuck, 
And I aint 1 of your little friends, 

Trapezing society and propriety meeting in
Tracking what’s trending and popular being stolen from grit 
Highlighting mainstream assimilation from what they consider desolation, 

Observing kids Hopscotch in the streets, 
playing basketball on a netless rim 
4 square played with street cracks, 
swings sets missing chains inside of a wood chipped, 
playground and metal slides, cooking the backs of thighs. 

While children take long walks to parks alone, 
Learning to crossroads before the road crosses them, 
Reminiscing about that place where crossrords first occurred 

Planted by that John dares green and yeller, 
Alongside green pastures and blue grass hills with country roads that take me home 
Migrated, travel to find better life seeking tranquility 
in the eye of the storm to find stability amidst the chaos

 Curated hip rolling in the underground setting trends, because we trendsetters, 
Narrating the ideas of life, articulating, existential articulation, to matriculate topics, 
ideation, collegiate academia and boardroom talks 

Learning on the laps of greats, while learning to be great 
Sitting at the feet of a phenomenal woman 
being taught by the woman that wrote Phenomenal Woman 
Standing in the steps, taken before me, and the shoulders left for me to climb and stand taller than those around me, 
Built on a foundation so solid upon Rocky shores,
despite waves crashing against our feet, see no erosion 
Protected from flames, licking my feet, 
will never be greeted by smoke or smog 

Created in not one location I can pinpoint on a map. 
I be a myriad of interwoven phyllo dough, 
like handmade cantaloupe cobbler or pumpkin pie,
Formed by Annunciation elocution and oiled covered elegance. 

I’m from roots, running deep enough to feed the 
far-reaching branches of my diverse family tree. 

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Where I Am From

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End of the Line