it ain't no secret
some of our bombs are ticking in double time

beating the band like it's a bad habit
because the origin of our frustration
is elusive as our fathers

sometimes the we only stop screaming
because we've run out of air
or can't remember why we were fighting in the first place
yet, like veteran warriors
we still know how to unlock the door
within ourselves
and unleash all manner of stubborn determination

self-destruction can be beautiful
if you let it

the way pieces of ourselves break fall
fall to the ground in crystal shards
crawl back together again
and fight each other toward regeneration
because destruction and rebirth
are interchangable
jumping back and forth
skitting, scatting, rat-tatting
in a struggle for survival

imagine that we were born as phoenix feathers
and this beautiful brown skin is the outcome

how else could you explain the voodoo magic our mamas wrap us in?

placing gentle veils over our eyes as children
through which we only see
love in every nook and cranny
every pot and pan
every rat and roach
within our brokedown palaces

this is something
that goes beyond words
and even description
it goes down to the very spine of your soul
sweats its way out of your pore
leaving a reside of hope
on your beautiful brown skin

and though we cannot always find the root of our frustration
or even the prime suspects
we can laugh down the tear drops
that nourish the rebellious parts of our whole
we can kiss the blue spots and black eyes
as we turn in a new direction again and again and again
we can sing our prayers like they are lullabies
giving each other a silver cloud to rest under

sometimes we all gotta go back home
to realize that the strongest levee against the storm
is the embrace of loved ones

and there
gathered around that soul-filled table
like forgotten angels in a chorus
we can remember the leaves and branches,
bud and blossoms,
the trunk and roots
of our purpose

reminding our brothers and sisters
and inevitable cousins
to be grateful that our never ending story
is worth telling

it ain't no secret
some of our bombs are ticking in double time
but at least for the time being
that ticking

has a beautiful melody.