Wednesday, March 31, 2010

poem of the day 03.31.10

everyone’s a nigga

the white boys rapping
as they walk up third avenue
checking out the rims on a black car
calling each other nigga
they are like the group
of middle eastern kids that i passed
on fifth the other day
standing in a pack outside a hookah shop
with their hats on backwards
nigga
nigga
was all i heard coming from their mouths
i know this asian kid
keeps his hair cut really short
wears baggy clothes
talks with an affixed street accent
he’s best friends with
the token black kid on the block
they both call each
other nigga too
i didn’t understand it
nigga
oh, i’m sorry
the n word
i was always told that the word was taboo
but i tried it using it
in casual conversation
just to keep myself current
i called up rosa parks
i said
what’s up, my nigga?
she hung up on me
i guess she’s not down
she’s living in the past
that sullied, muddled time
when words were loaded
when they had historical context
she doesn’t understand how it is now
i tried again
i called up martin luther king jr.
i said to him
what’s going on, nigga?
but he hung up too
same thing with malcolm x
frederick douglass
benjamin banneker
sojourner truth
and booker t. washington
zora neal hurston
said that she was going to wash
my mouth out with soap
langston hughes threatened
to kick my ass
i didn’t understand it
what was i doing that was so bad?
i called up w.e.b. dubois
he said that i got it all wrong
that we got it all wrong
all those white boys rapping
the middle eastern boys
the asain and his black friend
you and me
all of those rich rap stars making
millions off of the word
nigga
nigga
but i’m not sure i believe old w.e.b.
his voice is like dust
floating in a light breeze
he doesn’t have the latest technology
i can’t find his blog anywhere
besides i just passed two indian kids
on the street
they were wearing football jerseys
that hung down to their assholes
they were hitting on girls
and calling each other
nigga
so i think i’m going to keep up
with this for a while longer
nigga
i’m a nigga
you’re a nigga
you’re dead grandmother
was a nigga too
so go and scratch it on her grave

equality and diversity at last

ain’t it grand?

6 comments:

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bandit said...

Far fuckin' out!

Dead on, Nigger!

I walk the streets of my little ghetto and the black kids voices rise as I pass,

"niggers done this, niggers done that".

As though I'll be impressed, or intimidated, or enlightened, maybe.

I find it to be the oddest of double standards.

Nigger was in the news-a D.C. protestor was alleged to have used the N word (make me laugh! The "N" word...) and the leftie media had a heyday.

I walk my little 'hoods streets, and say "Hi, how are you?", and I never avert my eyes, but I never say Nigger.

John Grochalski said...

bandit...for me, i've never liked the use of the word, out of anybody. people struggled too hard to advance enough, and i think certain people, the ones i mentioned in the poem, would be appalled to hear their own race saying that, and maybe even more so to hear people from other races using such a loaded word so casually.

i hear it almost every day. and i hear it more and more out of the mouths of white kids and such, who think "nigga" means "man, or pal, or buddy, or whatever," who give no thought to the historical context of a words like, or if they do, are just too ignorant to think about it.

the other day i was behind three white kids who used the word in every other sentence. it just got to me.

Issa's Untidy Hut said...

Great, Jay ... spot on ...

By the way, don't buy that interview bullshit ... that guy came my way the other day.

Just selling shit ...

John Grochalski said...

thanks don

i don't plan on doing that interview bullshit.

Bukowski's Basement said...

Great observations, John ... Preach it my nig---- oops. Preach it, bro...

Seriously... good one. Again.