Simplistic Poetre’
By:
Keenan Gorham
(THE RENAISSANCE POET)


Street’s Is Watchin’

On the Harlem streets like Goines
where peace pipes play urban
melodies leavin’ souls high

Where inner city blues
huddle together throughout
the night as wind chills form
alleys that greet us like perfect
strangers wonderin’ why…

why bodegas lend us deuces
and shops pawn us off on ignorance
and sell everyone life bagged in revolvers
while morgues charge us rent the
first of every month

where parks censure seniors and
outline youth dreams and
vandalize developments in lots,
where blood runs down streets like
convicts runnin’ from parole and
where vials break without control
‘cause life ain’t what its CRACKED
up to be

Even long island promises are
stolen like bronx tales beaten to death
where twin towers are terrorized
and statues of liberty raped through
boroughs that burry themselves to
sleep and keep an eye open
all night long as malevolence
continues to creep

like on park benches to park place
and fifths of royal on avenues
by central parks backed in corners
around dead ends where the only meters
that matter are of chance and most
of us to short changed to keep
them running



by high rises that over look shady docks
like sapranos overlooking Queens and
under cover city officials tryin’ to
money launder ‘cause their habits
dirty and their backhands filled
with backstabbers and where
districts close for overpopulation
same time institutions grow due to
under surveillance all the while
precincts loose men of honor
due to men of temptation

and where main street lotteries and
juke joint hookers operate time square and
leave it time boxed ‘cause ain’t no more room left
for us good to think outside of it,
where base heads run more trains
on tracks than Amway and
slide through more tunnels than Fastway
even where stations excuse trespassing
when over night pickups give room
for one night stands and good night
fucks…

and unlike taxi confessions
only thing bein’ recorded live are crime scenes
and those fares just continue to add up
to misery and time all because
slums are lords and criminals kings so
the only thing left is the allowance
of residue to reside in bays like
chalk-lines residing in closed-door shafts
and unfortunately our million men refuse to march
the same time ghetto snipers prep for work

So now unfortunately New York must lie undercover
and all its law and orders forced to acquit their cases
and just sit back and be easy while the
city’s hill street blues continue to seep,
‘cause sadly those harsh and rugged
eyes that be watchin’ and dictatin’
those here in this urban life
be regrettably them
foul and merciless city streets’

Always remember…
“Street’s is watchin’!




©copyright08-K.Gorham/pending