Reclaim Our City
We're murder suspects
from Bedstuy to Prospect,
baptized in the waters of the Hudson River,
anointed by the graffiti on the Q train
to revive lost passions
and break the chain.
Somewhere
beneath the blood and beer bottles
is our ancestry.
You say my eyes are two gemstones
from the next galaxy,
and my ideas
will be the end of slavery.
And I sacrifice
my wajd
to your dreaded hair,
your voice of reason
as the subway gets held up at Union Square,
and only our dynamic devotion
could put the train back in motion.
I wanna get your hell raised.
I wanna get these debts paid.
You urbanize my body
in dangerous dialogues,
recalcitrant rhythms
that take down the system.
Our perilous patterns
orbit to Saturn
and glow like lanterns
and Brooklyn is effulgent
and the hookah's pungent
as you pass me the pipe
with hip-hop growing ripe
on our stereo.
Let's reclaim our city
in salvation synergy,
in vibration telepathy,
above so much inequity
is our Love Story.
The Gods of the Streets have intervened:
Revelation of rebellion,
messages from the gurus in the jail cells.
The dead hip-hop scrolls
will be what saves our souls,
outlaw oral tradition.
These Deities died
when our leaders lied
about who they considered human,
only to be reborn
from the vomit of the AIDS patients
and the fascism in the schools.
Those who break the rules
foresee a new future,
divine a different destiny.
Let's reclaim our city
from those who desecrate our dreams
with racism and Regents tests,
with homophobia and hatred,
with rent prices and rights abuses.
And I may be fucked up,
but I am not brought down
by this town
or the repugnant sound of gunshots.
I've found my family.
I've got my powers.
And our truths will shower
like meteors
on this city built on bigotry,
on this pavement laid on skeletons.
Reclaim our city
and envision:
Reconstruction that really rectifies,
mobilization that conquers repression,
solidarity that shatters slavery.
Cuz hip-hop ain't dead
if we give it life
and resurrect
the righteous vibe.
The status quo
becomes last year's show
and we are unfrozen,
enamored,
empowered.
Let's go!
By Paz Griot
Paz Griot is a spoken word poet, visual artist, actor, playwright, and performer originally from New York City. He now lives in Istanbul. He has written and published several poems, performed in countless plays and open mic events, written seven plays and exhibited his paintings, collages, and sculptures in six gallery shows in New York. He is currently writing his eighth play, and is launching a Zen meditation group.