“A Chance Discovery”/ Poetry by A. Dacosta Brathway

A world I used to be a part of, I now despise/
As I view it with x-ray eyes…
The big slave convention in March
The slave masters watching their charge,
Go through the motions of the order
That lends itself to the broader

Scheme,
Perpetuating the nightmarish dream.

The gods manage from the headmaster’s chair,
The orderlies toting their cross to bear
For their supper.
On scholarship without the academics lends itself to no abrupt fix to a world with any future,
Sends the wandering slave into a drunken stupor
While the master lives, rich, on the plantation,
Preparing the next crop’s orientation.
Increased marching lines with no degree
Unprepared to be
A pillar of strength
When functioning from a deficit disorder
Which makes the problem that much broader.

There is no solution to Vertigo
Unless heavy doses of the prescribed medication are in full effect
Creating the effect of a free fall slow…
Disgraced face
When set to the pace
Of the master’s agenda.
The mindset of March in the psychological castration of a slave mentality gender.


On Inspiration

Who would have thought that
Taking a shit
Would inspire such wit
From an insane brain
As it spiraled down the drain?

CRAP/ My Journal by Al Brathway

May 29th, Tuesday/ The holiday is over and things are back to normal. I'm back to doing my thing... sitting at the computer and thinking about what I would be doing if I had a boatload of money. The TV is on and some program about Orange County Housewives is on. Okay, I get TV. It's entertainment. It's staged stuff. I get it but do people, like what I'm watching, really exist? Are there really people this shallow living on Earth? Last time I checked there was a war going on under the guise of protecting American's freedom.(When translated means people are dying to allow shallow people, like the ones who live in Orange County, to stumble in stupidity.) I mean this show is hard to explain. You have to see it to believe it!/ So I'm thinking/dreaming about having a boatload of money but my fear (now) is if I had all that money, would I be shallow and stupid like those people in Orange County? I have a friend who told me, a few years ago, that American society was being divided between the "haves" and the "have nots!" I usually don't pay attention to that kind of conversation but I'll be damned if he wasn't right! (I mean gas is $3.00 a freakin' gallon now!) I need a car but if I had one, I wouldn't be able to afford the gas! But, w/out a car, I can't get to the places I need to get to when I need to get to them. So my social life suffers because of that and I sit at the computer writing about this stuff while I quietly go insane while this stupid program is on the TV. I'm not even watching it but I have it on to keep me company because the computer doesn't talk. Yeah, I could change the channel but there would only be another stupid TV show on. I used to think that it was only my life that is fucked up but I realize that I have a lot of company! I'm not as alone as I once thought! (And where is Orange County anyway? Pluto?) CRAP!

CRAP/ My Journal by Al Brathway

May 23rd, Wednesday/ I was on a city bus the other day and there were some kids in the back doing what they do. It was three of them but I wasn't sure that they were all the same gender. Two of them were definitely girls but I wasn't sure of what the third one was. Anyway, they got up to get off and the one I'm not sure of had the sagging pants thing going on. Personally I have no problem w/ the style. All generations go through their stages but I really don't get the sagging pants thing. At the very least it has to be very uncomfortable to walk w/ your pants strangling your thighs while you walk. But, you also have your FULL ass hanging out in the process! My mother used to tell me to make sure my underwear was clean in case I got into an accident. Now-a-days kids have eliminated the accident part. Kind of brings a new meaning to the term ..."showing your ass!" But, like I said, each generation has their thing. Guys are always motivated by what girls think... I'm sure that has something to do w/ it. Today the "bad boy" thing is tats (tattoos), street cred, and the look of having a load of shit in your pants!/ In a way I'm jealous. In my time, all I needed was some movie money, a car, and some interesting conversation. Now I would need plenty of money, drive on rims more expensive than the car, and the ability to call a woman a bitch and a 'ho in the same sentence. ("Yeah Dawg, I can see her getting hot off of that!") I remember being embarrassed to go into a drug store to buy one condom. Today, you have to buy the box set and in different colors!/ I have to admit to being facinated w/ the whole thing. I just don't understand how it works!/ In spite of it all, they look like they are having fun. CRAP!

Poetry Dept: Real Rappers Grab Their Roscoes by A. Dacosta Brathway

Pumped up on pumped out lyrics,
Cause and effect hysterics…
Modern day mind control on
Strapped straphangers...

Hanging...

Vying for protection, and attention
Accessorizing baggy jeans w/ boots and pitbulls,

Platinum crucifixes anointed by false gods,
Preaching rhetoric to the empty domes…

Chickenheads cluck their displeasure about the negative stereotype(s) they perpetuate, while pulling that tight g-string out of their ass.

You need to be schooled so you won’t be ruled by the likeness of the Virginia Laws,
Set in place w/ all its flaws…


“Where ignorance is bliss,’tis folly to be wise,”
Behind the bravado, you can hear the cries!
Amid all the hurt, the ignorance and pain,
“The more things change, the more they remain the same!”

(c) A. Dacosta Brathway, 2005

The Belly of the Beast by A. Dacosta Brathway

A substance takes significant control
As it seeks it’s own level,
The mindful work of the devil.

The dissemblance of the order,
The everyday doings become increasingly harder.

The loss of control,
Under control,
Taking on a significant role.

The creation of the abyss, that never-ending hole,
Altering the state of your disappearing soul.

The emergence of defiance,
The formation of negative alliances…
No guarantee of reliance.

The need for exorcism, to bring you back,
To bring back your soul in tact,
To unravel nerves that has been racked.
To rescue your mind that’s under attack.

All these things, to say the least…
Prey on the mind and hold a feast,
That hold must be broken, a new found release…
It’s Dante’s Inferno, the belly of the beast.
c A. Dacosta Brathway, 2002