Poet Blackman Preach

Stray bullets still ring out around South Minneapolis the 34th block & Chicago— as the Fall season stands still for Tyesha— Tyesha Edwards the intellectual they’re killing our messengers in who’s time there was no time as tears pierce the blue siding where the sobbing will never end for the guardians of Tyesha — who…

I saw coffins as I lie on the backbone of a flat-bed pick-up scared to hell for denying Christ in the darkness of my night while the trumpet sounds of sirens where loud—everybody was aware of the road-rage cops on Winston’s tail. I saw coffins as I lie on the backbone of a flat-bed pick-up…

STATE OF THE GHETTO ADDRESS It should be the loudest movement of all times of all times OF ALL TIMES Black, coloreds, negroes, Africans in America—Africans WHATEVER you may be when you tune into—no news station, radio or whatever medium you visit this day— the address will not be televised for static will be the…

Invasion 45 seconds to pronounce the real deal- DEAL mass destruction by hands HAND? many hand steering airborne cancers that kills Killed Dorothy to LUNG CANCER? and she didn’t smoke I guess Miss Evers great-great-grand children carried my mother’s-mother to the land mill in Mississippi it airborne fumes & rich crude oil Is that all…

Death March It’s on all over the world— at the Louisiana Superdome the death march has been initiated for a total excavation of Black people even if you are in denial—the evidence is not living proof read up on Sudan, Chicago, Rwanda, Minneapolis, Somalia— Camden places where you and I live comfortably journaling our experience…

next to God these women whom I credit will never let me fail. BlackCommentator.com Spoken Word Columnist, Poet Blackman Preach (Cedric T. Bolton), is a poet (spoken word artist) and producer, born in Pascagoula, Mississippi and raised in Paterson, New Jersey. Cedric received his Bachelor of Arts degree from Western Washington University and currently resides,…

Bumpy Tymes The revolution is a plow digging six feet deep with the splinters of its’ handles caving to the bone of the people resisting the storm is raging & blows out the night on the wick of the candle— the rain is coming fire is hard to come by, now— drenched by the puddles…

Camden Camden residents are dying a fast death billed as the worst— living in hell are families, media reports but what’s getting priority, is not priority and the rumors, the rumors of the murder rate— Is it really ten times the national average? kids acquiring illegal weapons and hungry with an appetite for torture sick…

PowerLess Somebody lied to us, Black men after the doctor slapped in life patriarchal man said, “don’t cry” “be tuff” & what’s real star power, brother? deny the people, gain access and showboat your end-zone dance with twenty – 150,000 dollar cars, flossing with 3 mansions you hardly sleep in, now – to prove you…