Vicarious: “Desolate – Revelations”
– THE POETIC SOULTRACKS – By Leon Benson 8/14/03
Introduction:
As you read the following poetic soul pieces of the perpetual struggles of being innocent in the tombs of prison, you will
recognize that each poem is inked from blood, sweat and years of the most unimaginable pain and loss endured by
mortal men. These are the heartbeat rhythmic words of the ghetto angels, whose wings were systematically severed by
the razor-edged gavels of injustice, only to violently fall from the ghetto havens of America’s inner cities into the hellish
prison cells of the dearly departed and forgotten!! Cast into the darkest agonies of the most stormiest weather, where
only the inner strengths of perseverance engenders illuminated understanding through the broken wings of freedom,
feather by feather! Becuz one day, we will fly again!!!
The poetic art contained within this soul track questions the core of society, friendship, love, family, justice, injustice,
humanity and reprisal! This may offend some individuals, if everything in this text is taken literally. So please,
empathize with the true story of Vicarious: “Desolate – Revelations,” and then recognize the ‘sermons’ that are indeed
the reality of a few men’s experience who possess the spiritual and mental fortitude to preach it!!!
So I honestly hope that these candid rare expressions are fully embraced by all who cross my urban literary path in one
form or another. So in the spirit of staying true to my African American generational roots of Hip Hop, spoken poetry
and modern poem writings, “I personally present to the world the consolidated voices of my soul!”
– L.B. – Killuminati 21st Century style, 10/28/03
*** Special Guest Appearances ***
I was truly honored to enlist the talent of the very real and powerful poetic expressions from true “Brothas of the
Struggle”: Billy Brown, AKA “Bubba B” and William Johnson, AKA “The Juice!” Their poetic attributes make these soul
tracks complete!
Plenty much love
Uhuru SASA
– L.B. –
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
For men in general judge more by the eyes than by the hands,
for everyone can see, but very few have to “feel!”
Everyone sees what you appear to be,
But few “feel” who you are…..
– Niccolo Machiavelli –
– The Prince –
Nocturnal Justice
…..“You see!”…..when I close my eyes, I pray for this perpetual nightmare to diminish…..but reality collides like the
sun and moon when I open my eyes, and realize this sh*t ain’t finished…..
…..It has just begun! As “I run, and run, and run” to allude a prison I’m already confined in…..isolated, suffocated,
claustrophobic, like an elephant captured in the eye of a pen…..
…..“So I got to make room,” but I stumble over my own erosions…..envious of the liberated world at times, moving in a
forward motion…..leaving me behind, to do the time for someone else’s crime,.....“but I ain’t crying!”…..
…..Becuz I’ve done figured out the ways of the earth…..pain has buried my entire existence like a ton of dirt.....and I
was left here to die in a prison cell, but my thoughts flourish through the hurt…..
…..That I may never, ever find the exit of escape…..visualizing my own fate, as I walk ten thousand miles in this
12 x 8…..
…..An inner voice yells to me from within the farthest corners of my thoughts, “Resistance L.B., Resistance”…..this
compels me to don a smile as I hear the celebration in the distance…..
…..“Leon, you’ve made it Brotha! Comrade, you now have a clean slate”…..Then within a state of ambivalence, I ask
myself, “Was I leaving out the prison gates or going into heaven’s gate?”…..
…..Damn, who’s these cold fingers pinching my soul…..As I stand in the summer’s sun, only to feel the coldest winds of
winter blow …..
…..Pushing me out of favor, with all I love…..cutting my umbilical cord like a razor from “Just-us!”…..
…..I’m the man who declared “wolf,” but no one took the time to listen, though my story is true…..pleas of my innocence
transferred into despaired lion roars behind a cage in a zoo!.....
…..The fury of revenge explosively entertains my desire…..gas-drenched memories and sparks of anger make a nova
fire…..
…..That burns my soul to ashes of gray…..drizzled with the “years of bloody tears,” that reforms my spirit and thought
back into red clay, as I reflect the gloomy day!.....
…..I sat in a courtroom and was shown unfamiliar murder scene photos that bore a victim’s unfamiliar face….
.Kasey Scheon, if only you survived to tell the truth, my real life nightmares would be erased!!!
Inspired by the five years to the date (8/14/98) I’ve been falsely incarcerated after a prison “SHAKE DOWN!”
by Leon Benson 8/14/03
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
Leon Benson #995256 A-110
W.V.C.F.
PO BOX 1111
Carlisle, IN 47838
23 Hours
23 hours a day I: sit, read, write, study, I rest.
23 hours a day I: watch, observe, analyze, I dissect.
23 hours a day I: learn, teach, listen, I speak.
23 hours a day I: love, strategize, converse, I liberate.
23 hours a day I: yell, holla, scream, “Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!”
In order for a souljah to maintain these 23 hours, his/her soul must have that 24th hour.
by BUBBA B
@ Copyright 2004 Billy Brown
Billy Brown#855988
W.V.C.F.
PO BOX 1111
Carlisle, IN 47838
The World
“The World” is very different from
when I saw it last.
“The World” looks very different sitting
behind a prison visiting glass.
“The World” really needs to slow down becuz
we’re moving too damn fast.
“THE WORLD; THE WORLD; THE WORLD!”
“The World” can be tornadoes, hurricanes
and swoop your ass.
“The World” can turn the most beautiful
person into trash.
“The World” can walk through your front door
disguised in a mask.
“THE WORLD; THE WORLD; THE WORLD!”
by Leon Benson
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
You said, “God will save me.”
How, when hate rules my heart,
And the devil stole my mind.
One foot in the grave
And my soul hurts.
The only pleasure I gain,
Will be through death,
Because this world,
Has long been out of my reach.
How can you to go heaven,
When you play God?.....
Tak’n a life one minute,
And smoke’n a blunt the next.
How can one who was born in blood
Be saved by water?
Death is so close,
It suffocates me at times.
Tell me!
How can one, who does dirt in the dark,
Shine in the light?
If all I ever knew is pain,
How can I get use to pleasure?
Tell me!
How can I trust a God who tortured me?
One who led me to the graveyard,
To impregnate a zombie.
On top of that…..
I found out my best friend,
Has been dead for 20 years.
Tell me!
When I see God,
On judgment day,
How do I look him in the eyes,
Without kill’n him,
For all the crimes,
He forced me to commit.
Now that everyone and thing that I trusted betrayed me,
Who do I turn to?
|
Another lost soul with a number.
Inmate #930558, William Johnson.
I now know that being in the wrong place, at the wrong time can be fatal. And the one question I always ask is, “Why feed my body to the beast?”
I’m an INNOCENT man!.....And the heart beat inside this beast still scares me…..even though I’ve been down 11 years with two left.
I think back to the day my dreams turned into my nightmare…..“I had about US $2,000.00 in my pocket and a half of - O - (ounce) of green
(weed). A few of my guys came around; one said it was his birthday. So me being me, I said, “Lets do our damn thang (party)!” To make a long
story short, about 4 to 5 in the morning we were pulled over and locked up for D.U.I. (or so I thought).
The next day w were charged with robbery. I went to trial; they took a plea. They got 8 to 15 years; I got 25 years. How did this happen to me?
I’ve always had a job. I helped the ones I could and I never hated a living soul. Until now! Everyone wrote me letters say’n, “Pray God will save
you.” So I prayed. I prayed hard, but he never came. And after years I turned my hatred on everyone and thing I feel betrayed me. I sent this
poem to the ones I felt led me the wrong way…..
This pain inside of me!
For the first time in my life I cried.
And each tear represented a new pain.
But my pride keeps me from call’n out for help.
This pain inside of me!
It’s like fire,
Poured over my skin,
With each jolt of pain,
I feel my life slip farther into the abyss.
And my world turns dark,
As everyone I love fades away.
This pain inside of me!
Could it have a name,
God or the Devil?
Or could I be cursed,
By BOTH?
The God in me,
Who dares me to avoid temptation,
And the Devil in me
Who asks me to accept it as a blessing from the underworld.
This pain inside of me!
Makes me ask,
“God, why did thou forsake me?”
You said, “If I called; you’d come.”
But now that I need you,
When all I feel is pain,
And everywhere I turn I see death.
And the more I back away from it,
The more a part of me likes it.
This pain inside of me!
Somebody stop this devil!
Because the more she shows me,
The more it turns me on.
She put a knife in my hand,
And cut someone’s heart out,
But all I felt was my d**k grow hard.
And when the blood made my fingers sticky,
I busted a nut,
And felt the warm, sticky semen of my being,
Flow down my leg.
This pain inside of me!
It’s not a killing pain,
It’s an enticing pain.
The kind a woman feels when she gives birth.
Though it hurts coming out,
Once it’s over,
You love it,
The rest,
Of your,
Life!
|
I don’t think you really understand what my life has been reduced to. When the judge gave me 25 years, he in my eyes
attempted to kill me. That I could understand. But the one person I trusted above all, (my woman, my soulmate, my
angel) did to me what no one else could do. Peep, on the very same day the judge gave me 25 years, I went back to the
cellblock and grabbed the phone. I needed with everything in me to talk to someone who could give me hope, love, or
just a little comfort. I started by telling her, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll beat this out.” I said, “You know that US
$7,000.00 you got of mine. I’m going to get another lawyer.” My baby said to me in the sweetest way, “Ain’t no sense of
me lyin to you. I’m not going to wait on you. I have needs. My pu**y gets wet just like your d**k gets hard. And I’m not
going to be out here play’n with myself. I want a man on top of me sweat’n. And I’m not givin you that money either. I’
m sorry, but I need it. I know you’re mad, but I hope someday you’ll forgive me.” Bye Love…..So just in case I don’t
make it out of here, there are some things she should know…..
In case…..
The world in which I live,
Becomes my nightmare.
And the two hands,
That’s pull’n my soul in different directions,
Rips it apart.
In case…..
I close my eyes,
Only to never open them again,
And the tears you cry,
Seem to mean nothing,
To nobody.
In case…..
The ones who never spent time with me,
Now realize they love me.
And you stand over my body,
To say all the things,
You wish you’d said sooner,
Knowing that the words,
Will never touch my ears.
In case…..
You believe that,
I know all the above,
And that I’ve forgiven you,
For all the bas things,
You’ve done to me,
Then know!
That “no” bad deed,
Have I ever forgiven.
And upon your entry,
Into the gates of hell,
I’ll be the first,
To light fire
To your,
Soul!
|
Now you see what a fool I have been. A warm heart is for losers and I lost it all. The world has somehow become my
hell. And the light shining on me from heaven burns like acid. Half the time, I don’t even want to open my eyes.
Only because I don’t want to see the fool looking at me in the mirror:
Fooled by Love…..
You left me here,
In this prison cell.
I’m cold, heart racin.
Every few minutes,
My body shivers,
“I’m scared!”…..
My soul is wet,
From tears.
Am I dead?.....
Because I was told life was good,
Or could this be a game,
Some cruel person is play’n on me.
I reach out,
To put my arms around you,
But when I open my eyes,
You’re no longer there.
Is this a nightmare?.....
If it is, wake me up,
Please! Don’t let this nightmare,
Turn into my reality.
It’s getting hot in here,
I can’t breathe,
The walls are too close.
You said you love me!
But why won’t you help me?.....
My eyes are open,
I can see.
“Oh no!”
I’m in a box,
Inside a hole.
Now I see you.
Why are you cry’n?.....
No, stop them!
Don’t let them throw dirt inside this tiny hole.
Wait! You’re not cryin,
You’re laugh’n!.....
|
I’m so fucked up even the devil stays far away from me….. from fear that the fire inside my hatred burns so hot it could
cremate her! If it wasn’t for the tears the child inside of me cries, I think even he would be dead. The window to my soul
is in front of you. Take a peek…..
Look into my eyes…..
As they water,
From the thought of reality,
Body shivering as if cold,
Heart pounding with fear.
Look into my eyes…..
You’ll see the pains
Of livin in such a cruel world,
The dreams that suddenly have been shattered,
This heart that’s been broken,
And half-way mended.
Look into my eyes…..
You’ll see a child,
Swimming in his own tears,
With a soul that’s long been lost.
Look into my eyes…..
And feel my tears,
With the touch of your hand,
Now I ask you…..
Can my teardrop,
Really turn into a rainbow?
Where there will be a pot of gold at the end,
And I’ll be granted one wish.
If not,
Why do we cry?
As in all darkness, there is light. And all hope inside of me is not gone. Just thinking about my girls brings a smile to
my face. I now know that I put trust in the wrong angels. And the question they ask, I should now answer…..
Momma, where is my Daddy?
Trapped in a maze,
Blind to the outside world,
Holding onto one wish:
That the walls would somehow fall down,
And this maze would somehow become a sidewalk.
Momma, where is my Daddy?
Holding onto hope,
That at the moment,
When he opens his eyes,
The darkness will turn to light,
And the angel running down the sidewalk,
Will somehow be you.
Momma, where is my Daddy?
Locked away by the lawless,
In a hole,
Above ground,
In a cell,
Known to the ones in it as a casket,
Or as the forgotten grave.
Momma, where is my Daddy?
Far away,
Yet inside you.
Returning your stare,
As you look in the mirror.
Hugging you,
As you hug yourself.
Loving you,
As you love yourself.
|
And they say that men are emotionless. Hell, sometimes I feel so vulnerable and fragile that I think if the wind blows too hard I’ll
break. Now think.....do you really want to climb inside my skin and feel and see the world as I see it? Too late…..you just did!
Sign off,
Inmate
William Johnson #930558
W.V.C.F.
PO BOX 1111
Carlisle, IN 47838
@ Copyright 2004 William Johnson
A Virus
Strange subjects came and went, lent time, money and love…..from the heart of a thug!
While many mugged and shoulder-shrugged, showing their face, keeping hands in place on steel, can’t help feel the tension,
trapped in the 3rd Dimension!
Surrounded by 60 walls, no bars, just doors to lose the noise, all boys, some men but animals – the strong – the weak, predator and
prey, some even sell their souls to eat, ain’t no telling what you might see on a strange day…..at dead man’s bay!
Play your position, never smile, just to keep the guards at a distance….. holding your head high, showing resistance, refusing to
succumb to the plot that’s been laid, embracing oppression, deception, miseducation and temptation of the opposite sex – a
hex – a curse, it can’t get any worse…..
Is what I ask? But no one answers, so I continue to fight this cancer…..that’s killin a nation of young black men. They say we can’
t win.....“WRONG!” It’s only the end of the beginning…..
Can you feel me?
by Lebaron Johnson
@ Copyright 2004 Lebaron Johnson
(Note: Lebaron is liberated, but he had spent ten years of his life behind bars, from 15 y/o to 25 y/o! He gave me this poem one
month before he was released. – L.B.)
Buried Breathing
I’m trapped inside this injustice maze, to the point of mentally…..I’m – a snap. I now stand at a point of no return praying to one
day come back!.....
Mama don’t cry anymore becuz I will make it home, remember the way you raised me to always, in any circumstances, “hold my own!”
…..
Just the other day I saw another prisoner get sliced, Mama though we’re far away from each other my heart and yours are bonded
for life!.....
But I see these crazy visions, while I’m trapped in this prison, some of the things I’ve witnessed I won’t repeat nor ever mention!…..
I prayed to God, but he rebuked me for my sins. I try to duck and dodge, but these cell walls closing in!.....
It’s like I’m turning savage from this agony, I’m forced to take it. I send pictures of me smiling like I’m fine, but I’m fakin!.....
The days are never-ending, to me it’s unreal. I try to sleep to escape it, but when I awake this madness is real!.....
I barely receive mail. When I call, blocks are on the phones. This life is a living hell, plus I’m feeling this sh*t alone!.....
If I knew my life would’ve ended up falsely convicted living fatal, Mama, I wish you would’ve taken my life as a baby in the cradle!.....
My soul is perpetually bleeding, and my heart is beyond hurt, the only way to stop the pain, is they bury me in dirt!.....
Because I’m already “Buried Breathing!”
by Leon Benson
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
(Inspired by Vicarious: “Desolate – Revelations”)
Seclusion
I’m in the middle of nowhere…..
But I am somewhere.
I see nothing…..
But yet I see it all.
I hear nothing…..
But the sounds are clear.
I am lost in time…..
But I know the time.
I feel nothing…..
But my emotions are rattled.
My motor skills are null…..
But my body is in motion.
I am unconscious…..
But I am conscious.
It is my enemy…..
But it is my friend.
-Seclusion –
We all may fear the unknown, but why should we fear that which we haven’t experienced?
And a majority of us have not experienced the ultimate, which is SELF!
by Bubba B
AKA Billy Brown
@ Copyright 2004 Billy Brown
|
POPA Never Made it Home
As a youth, ya POPA always make it right?
You wasn’t alone, cuz you knew he came home late at night,
From a hard dayz work to give you a hug,
Tucking you in when you sleep, showin you love.
Drinking and smoking weed, the type of things he won’t condone.
He teaches you the ups and downs, and the right and wrongs,
Of the world, why telling you to be strong.
Plus he was honest, with an honest payroll.
When it was time to vote, he was the first one to hit the polls.
Not a baller on the streets, living out-of-control.
He showed you how and the way, a legal dollar folds.
The righteous ways from him, you couldn’t duck and dodge.
It’s no mirage, he directing you on a path with God.
And he was with you, before you were born and through a toddler.
Some said why bother, but to him he was yo father.
And at night, sweet dreams from a subtle sleep.
There were no arguments, cuz Mom’s and Pop’s was at peace.
Cuz in yo home there was no evil entities.
It was love that united this whole family.
This gloomy day, daddy was late coming home.
Moma strong, but in her heart knew something was wrong.
There was a ring, and she ran and grabbed the telephone.
You could see the tears, cascade down yo Moma’s face.
As she cried, “What happened on the interstate?”
You sat in the window, from when you were younger, now you grown.
Still hurt, cuz Popa never made it home.
Since I been grown, I felt alone out here on my own.
“Why?” My Popa never made it home; my Popa never made it home!
Dedicated to all good fathers lost in the world.
by Leon Benson
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
Koby’s Arrival on the 7th Month
Month 1: the sun shined so, so bright, the grass was so, so green. The winds were of love, of the purest love, which planted seeds.
Sunflowers flourished, bringing the bees and butterflies, all under the most bluest skies…..
Month 2: was more of the same, but with the appearance of slight change, of all tree’s leaves and subtle disappearance of the
butterflies and bees…..All across the 7 seas…..
Month 3: brought radical beauty to the earth’s many landscapes, of the shades of rose reds, mango orange and canary yellow…..when
looked upon with a dire eye it made the soul mellow…..
Month 4: was of rainy drizzle, which drummed an ant-marching sound. The tree limbs were bare, because the now brown leaves fell
to the ground. Koby Rudy, it was time to go into the house…..because the cold northern Michigan winds were blowing people South…..
(smile)
Month 5: was as still as a mannequin in the window of a clothing store, as the white snowflakes fell from the sky like the milk in a bowl
of frosted flakes cereal you pour. Me and you’re Mama visualized a Princess in gleaming buffle, while we looked at the trees with
upside-down ice castles…..
Month 6: the snow angels and snowmen cried as the children play, the ice was melting away, the sun was shining brighter today. It’s
the change from old to new, wear a coat my child before you catch the flu…..
The 7th Month: like your life of 7 years, I shed internal tears, the collision of Southern winds of warm and Northern winds of cold,
created rainy dayz, hurricanes and tornadoes…..
…..That shook houses and buildings from their very foundation, striking fear within the hearts of all God’s living creation…..
…..Thunder and lightning clashed like the ringing of Heaven’s alarms. A gift beyond beautiful emerged from the storm, and that’s when
you my child, Koby was born!.....
Dedicated to my daughter, Princess Koby R. Bluitt, on her 7th soul day/birthday 3/12/03.
by Leon Benson
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
A Lost Lover I Can’t Get Over
Several years ago I found myself asking a lot of personal questions about life, destiny and love! Yeah love!
Would I ever find a woman to share my life, dreams and aspirations with, to love me unconditionally like my last lover? Have you ever
had a beautiful woman cut down your heart and thoughts and you still felt a powerful desire to be with her…..though some other man is
having the time of his life with her day in and day out? And I wonder if she still thinks about me the way she occupies my thoughts hour
upon hour! Someone once told me it’s good to have faith in love, but if I let her go and she comes back to me, it’s truly love!
What is love to me at this point of my life? I don’t know myself half the time. It seems like the longer I’m left alone at the bars my soul
is growing colder and colder by the second! So much pain without her hurts me now, I lean my head against a brick wall and sigh…..
I truly miss this woman in my presence. Her sweet smell. Her laugh. Her body. Her love for me and only me. The cotton soft booty
of her back-side in my palms. Her kisses on my face, neck, stomach and “AH yeah!” in a special way.
I miss the oh so pleasant scent of her rare exotic perfume, the taste of her tongue on mine! To this day, I can taste her nipples as my
tongue swirl around and around like a merry-go-round!
I miss her holding me inside her velvet hands, caressing me softly, yet firmly! “Look into my eyes when I make love to you,” is what I
used to tell her, as she baptized me headfirst into perpetual pleasure! The love from this woman still haunts me like destiny to the very
stoke of my pen to this page, dazzling my mind by the immaculate beauty of God’s most perfect creation!
Well, I guess the old cliché is true, “You don’t know what you got until it’s gone!” I feel so damn cheated out of my youth because of all
the time we spent together! How can I fix the shattered pieces of my heart and soul without her? “I promise to treat you right this time
my Goddess. I vow to never take you for granted again in my lifetime! So please come back to me. I’m not too proud to beg”…..
…..Baby it’s me and you against the world, as I hold you close to my heartbeat, you’re my only girl…..
…..And many sunsets we’ll see, as well as places we’ll go, and the love we’ll share only we will know…..
…..Even you said it’s a journey to my peak, like a falcon my anticipation rises to the point my love you can’t speak, when I’m
between the city and secluded country sides of your thighs…..
…..Whatever do you mean, the reason we’re broken up is a mistake? Then why so long you’ve been gone out of my life
without a trace?.....
…..Oh no, you left your graffiti message written on the walls of SHAWshank, but I did not stop to read ‘em…..So on July 6, 1999, a false
guilty verdict stole the woman I love, named FREEDOM!!.....
…..I still love you and want you back Freedom!
by Leon Benson
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
A Message to my Oldest SUN
This is a message to my oldest son…..I recall the feeling of happiness when you were born…..
I picked you up from the womb and hugged you, looked into your eyes, I knew you were mine. I deeply love you…..
May my life reflection, guide you in the right direction, giving you the inspiration to pursue political, social, economical -
education…..
So if WE go blind through your eyes, WE SEE. If WE lose oxygen through your lungs, WE breathe. After the storm, look at
yourself in the rain puddle, it’s a reflection of ME…..
But you’re destined to be a greater man, holding the entire world in your hands, like one grain of sand. Making plans from the
Midwest to New York, LA and Japan, Sun I will be there to shake your hand…..
Though you’re only six years old and can’t come off the porch, I’m-a still pass you the torch…..to shine brighter than any star in the
night’s sky, to sow our family ties…..
“Leon, it has to be great!” becuz I’m laying my soul down as a bridge for you to cross to calculate your fate…..
To the road of knowledge, wisdom and understanding that will shield you from the nefarious handing…..lies and confusion,
transcending illusions, and produce the proper solutions…..
Never carry the burden of sorrow. I was yesterday, part of today; you are part of today and tomorrow…..
You will understand why I wasn’t with you to play catch, teach you how to fight, teach you about your true history, or just having
family fun…..
…..A message to my oldest Son!
Dedicated to my son, Prince Leon V. Bluitt, for his 6th soul day/birthday 5/3/03.
by Leon Benson 5/1/03
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
America: This Is What You Made Me
…..Life’s so crazy, I’m missing
My babies, I’m ready to snap
America, this is what you made me…..
Mother America, why have thou
Forsaken me? I’m trapped in this
Whirlwind too much for me to see!
I lost all my assets, and my worldly
Things! Injustice afflicts my brain, while
My life is running down the drain!
Amerika targets my music and my
Friends! I pour out gin, cuz most
Are dead or in the pen!
They’re building these prisons, that’s made
For you and me! Too many Catch 22’s
The system’s bound to catch a “G!”
You lose sometimes, when you’re raised to “hold
Your own!” These lessons were taught by older
G’s way back from my home!
I pick up the phone, and call my
Mama, she’s alone! Becuz she’s been in
My corner all this time since I’ve been gone!
I grew up in poverty, I lived
Off selling drugs! It’s really a miracle
For ones to beat the hood!
I’m away from my family, my son is
Getting grudge! I hope the pain that
He feels one day won’t force him to
Face a judge!
Look at these criminal cases, they’re divided by
Racists? Look at all the time the young
Black drug deala’s facing?
If you’re Black, don’t cut your braids or
Fix your pants! Cuz in America’s Court
Rooms, you’ll never have a chance!!!
…..Life’s so crazy, I’m missing
My babies, I’m ready to snap
America, this is what you made me…..
Inspired by a Discovery Channel prison interview with me that went bad!! (Early 2001)
- A Revolutionary Thug -
by Leon Benson AKA “Tha Revolutionary Thug”
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
Prison Pain, Part#2
.....In my quest for justice, time became my enemy. Every second ticking off the clock, it feels like the devil pinching me!.....
…..The day I blew trial, another dealer was made. It’s a price to this life-style, but all the youngsters know is riding cars on
blades…..
…..I live with the forgotten, but I hear you saying, “What happened?” to Leon from the hood, the one that always had us laughing…..
…..But my name is fading from the streets, this life-style plays for keeps, the world only sees my face when hommeys blaze a Swisser
Sweet…..
…..Laced with Afghanistan, while I sit in prison in a trance, past voices giving me choices, but it’s no resentment, I’ll do it all over
again…..
…..But my time is steady spending, seconds turn into days, minutes turn into hours, hours change into days, days transform
into weeks, weeks flip into months, months transform into years, now years is decades!!!.....
…..I no longer have fear; I no longer shed tears. They dried like the Sahara, but the pain lasts forever! A hell of a revelation, it’s bars
instead of flames. Reality’s a muthf**ka while feelin this “Prison Pain!!!”
Inspired by my 27th soul day/birthday while incarcerated!
by Leon Benson 1/9/03
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
‘Ol’ Fatha Time
As I set here, time movez slowly, it seemz dat even fatha time knowz.
Knowz dat something iz ‘bout to happen, but it won’t come ta him, as the secondz tick away.
He knowz dat time iz slim.
He knowz dat time iz slim.
He scratches hiz head and thinkz back.
It confusez him. whatz the hapz?
2 minutes till de clock chimez,
Things just don’t slip fatha timez mind,
First time fo everything I guess? So fatha time set back to rest.
12 o’clock midnight straight up and down,
Still nothing came ‘round.
Fatha time kickz back wit’a cup’a tea.
BAM! De time waz 12:03.
Fatha time jumped up and checked de date,
July 18, 1996…..He knew he waz much too late.
De moral of this piece iz, time never stopz for anyone. We are in a constant state of change. Therefo’ in order ta
keep up wit’ de changin’ timez, WE must be willing to change wit’ de timez…..
In memory of Ziyon Yisrayah
– Abolish de DEATH PENALTY –
by BUBBA B
@ Copyright 2004 Billy Brown
Thug God
…..Hold my soul in your hands as we take a ride? Read my thoughts for half a second, they’ll make you cry?
“Born to defy,” I can read your soul, look me in the eyes!.....
…..Just spare my children before death is my last life reply! Thunderbolts fallin out the heavens for the ones who lying.
Rainy day z is a sign of ya homey crying!!.....
…..I know you got my messages laced with pain in the form of letters.
But ya’ll did n’t listen, you should ’ve listened.
Now Bently is cursed forever!.....
…..I asked you for help in my time of need, “But you turned me down.” All I needed was a place to stay that night,
“But you turned me down!” I cut my braids to get a job, “But they turned me down.”
All I needed was your open ears, “But you turned me down.” I got 60 years in prison, “The system let me down!!!!”…..
…..I used to smile, look at me now man I wear a frown!.....
…..“My heartache make the world shake,” and the highest mountain crumble! Each pulse shakes the Whitehouse and the
President fumbles…..
…..with his pen, not to sign a policy to go to War! But it’s a shame my sista’s and brotha’s blood is right there on the floor!.....
…..“THUG God deliver the innocent that’s in the game; THUG God deliver me from this prison pain!”…..
by Leon Benson AKA L. Bently
@ Copyright 2004 Leon Benson
