22 September 2013

SPOKEN WORD: "The Tree" (2003)






 "The Tree" (2003)

by Tik'al Storm Rydah


native man once told me:
“you don’t have no history!

no Pyramid of the Sun
a victim of the dog and gun
your voices never recorded
decimated tribe into extinction

you worked behind an ox
no beautiful tapestries
just some carvings on some rocks!”

african man once told me:
“you don’t have no history!

no Pyramid of Khufu
no lineage from Ra
no Shaka or Nkrumah
yo, what the hell is a 'bori-KWA' ?!

don’t have a nation of your own
you bastards were disowned
a country BUILT on muthaf*ckin' loans”

spanish man once told me:
“you don’t have no history!

no great cathedrals
no written language
you can't even talk right
4,000 years
of that illiterate word plight

children of pirates and moors
your destiny will STAY in the sewers
along with all the dog manure!”


I don't have no history…

...but, I have me

and “me” is the “three”

61 - 27 - 12*

that's how the strands come together
to form the consciousness of my 3 Selves

a DNA of understanding
understanding the key
free from racial inequity
double helix now defining me

the multiversal
often controversial
ROOT of my tree

 outwardly-growing
into the flow of the ages
multipliciously-moving
in creative-type rages

now, I 'm more able
no longer unstable
searing deep cosmic vision
that began at Nana's navel

whilst people kill each other over “race”

I understand the different parts of my “Be”
I overstand what it TOOK to become “Me”

so we
can see
and sit DOWN by that tree

contemplating its roots

as they twist and turn
letting our conscious burn

through the herb

which cuts
through the muck
of this polluted disgust
we call...

...Existence

let the sacred leaves crackle
as the chickens start to cackle
in this barnyard of the ignorant

third world styler
boricua SOUL provider
NEVER the profiler
better yet more prolific
nothing SHORT of terrific

harmonising mental word tunes
an areyto that awakes you...

...to WHO you are

more than a sp*c
you are keeper of the rainbow
more than a hick
from Deminan's backbone

born of Jikoteah

the turtle

our Mother Universal

which we cohabit with her children
on an island hopping-type dispersal

rise high and strong
you no good dirty Rican
listen to the herb cause it's speakin’
about your ghetto marvelous beacon

from under sidewalk crust
I'ma be what I must be
but, I'ma speak about “I”
and “We”

shucked all the labels
removed all the jewels
all that’s inconsequential
for me to attain monumental

there's still a world of shame and poverty
that needs to be lifted
by us who happen to be gifted

with life

and words
nouns working like verbs

now...
...I scribe like simplicity

no labels

just me

the easiest flow
for all the world to see

like the curving smoke of Ganja

from this one spot
I swirled into the etherness
to become...

...me

took that quantum leap
to become...

...three

no glit and glam
not even trying to show how much better I am

cause I am not

I am free
I am love
I can SEE

reuniting my root
all this genetic dispute

...over me?

...the boricua cypha?

see

I'm not gonna hypha-nate
or sit home & hiber-nate

come out into full view
with a searing tongue of fire

the gods are playing for me

the guy
the man
from NuYoRico

muthaf*cka, my name ain't chico

close your cheeks
stop spreading fecal
matter
like a hater

I am me
the three
taino… afro… arab
but speaking a language of scarabs

I am deep
 never average...

...cause average never adds up for me

lyrical mathematician
remove your left and right brain partition
observer of the material culture
of all these primal vultures

the true
the one
like Jet Li multiversing it
I’ma come through without rehearsing shyt

I am not restricted by the frozen words
of a thought
I just continue like
dot dot dot

into infinity
like an untouchable entity

I flow
with universal liquidity
I flow
connecting like serendipity

powerful auric cycles
coiling forever skywards

drawing Kundalini spirals
towards my godhead
and back down

completing the cypha
a mind getting riper

emulating me into Existence
on this spinning ball of iron
burrowing through the aqueous-ness of space

spitting fire out my god eye

the third of the three
this powerful tree
rising up to the sun
letting justice be done

spreading love all around
laying all this shyt down
I am the king who sits in a chair
with a colourful cardboard crown...

...or a baseball cap

caribbean cypha
laid out like an aztec calendar
running around 360
muthaf*ckas be like: “what the f*ck hit me?”

like a matrix scene
kicking around in a dream

I’ma be proud
don’t care if you’re ghetto-azz loud

f*ck what you say about me

I am the power of this tree
the one that is made by the three
the three that has become...

...ME.


copyright 2003 SoulChangoInk



* This is an average population reference in 2003 done on 800 persons
when Martinez-Cruzado first did mtDNA testing on
specific Puerto Ricans with actual significant native heritage;
mostly in the southwestern part of the island.
DNA testing was relatively new at that time.

My atDNA is: https://bit.ly/3N00fI1