Poem by Obama's Poet

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Poem by Obama's Poet

Postby jakimbro » 17 May 2011, 01:40

Here's a poem by the poet Obama honored just last week at the White House. Carl Sandburg, he ain't.

The Bitch in yoo
by Common

(Yeah, for your nation...
for your nation...)
Verse One:

A bitch nigga wit an attitude named Cube
Step to the Com wit a feud
Now what the #@$% I look like dissing a whole coast
You ain't made shit dope since AmeriKKKa's Most
Wanted to cease from the Midwest to the East
On the dick of the East for your 1st release
Your lease is up at the crib, house niggaz get evicted
And videos wit white boys talking you get Wicked
Natural Born Killa, nigga you natural born God
Read, rich, got the nerve to say you rob
Hyprocrite, I'm filling out your Death Certificate
Slanging bean pies and St. Ide's in the same sentence
Shoulda repented, on the 16th of October
Get some beats besides George Clinton to rock over
Rap career is over, better off acting
What trouble I see, you're managing WC and Wack 10
You backed in to a Four Corner Hustla
Lying on your dick, said you was fuckin' her
Use Higher Learning, don't take my words out of text
Went from gangsta to Islam to the dick of Das EFX
It'll take the Nation of Millions to Hold Me Back
From giving you mouth shots or hit wit the pipe Ralph got
Chris Tucker ain't around, it's your Friday, it was good
I was insulted, she was wit the Boyz N the Hood

Chorus:

I see the bitch in you when you don't speak your mind
The bitch in you, looking me in my eyes lyin
I see the bitch in you, to be hard you tryin'
The bitch in you but yo it's coming out

Verse Two:

The ump on this rap shit, Cube, I'm calling out
I break in and smack niggaz that's in the Slaughterhouse
This ain't no East coast, West coast, none of the above
I'm from Chi, I went to Cali, niggaz gave me love
There's a thin line between the fake and the real
Grafted ass nigga, I see through your Glass Shield
Had skills once upon a time on this project, yo
I'm a have ta wreck a Ho'shea
I heard a ho say you her favorite rapper
(So what) so I had to slap her, ugn
And violate you, a Muslim drinking brew
Your nigga ain't no Mack 10, he's a 22
I seen you, you ain't say shit in ATL
Cube, I like that diamond charm, I might cuff it, then sell
It out, like you sold Kam and Threat
A year ago, you wasn't talking shit about the West
Guess you knew you're shit was done plus the one got you cable
Hoo Bangin, you ain't banging shit but the table
in the Circle Mad, ain't got no choice but to fight
Ain't none of y'all muthafuckas got a chance on the mic
Anytime you come out, jo, I'm a talk about you
Until you let that bitch in you, walk up out you
Any last words before I hit the switch
From the immortal words of one, a bitch is a ...

Chorus

I see the bitch in you when you don't speak your mind
The bitch in you, looking me in my eyes lyin
I see the bitch in you, to be hard you tryin'
The bitch in you but yo it's coming out
jakimbro
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Re: Poem by Obama's Poet

Postby jakimbro » 17 May 2011, 01:49

Carl Sandburg was Kennedy's poet. He also was invited to the White House by Kennedy to honor his work. Here is one of HIS poems...

UNDER THE HARVEST MOON
by Carl Sandburg

UNDER the harvest moon,
When the soft silver
Drips shimmering
Over the garden nights,
Death, the gray mocker,
Comes and whispers to you
As a beautiful friend
Who remembers.

Under the summer roses
When the flagrant crimson
Lurks in the dusk
Of the wild red leaves,
Love, with little hands,
Comes and touches you
With a thousand memories,
And asks you
Beautiful, unanswerable questions.

http://www.library.illinois.edu/content ... OX=1&REC=6

I don't KNOW about YOU- but I can't even see Common's work as POETRY.
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Re: Poem by Obama's Poet

Postby jakimbro » 17 May 2011, 18:41

Here is the infamous poem that is Common's praise and an ode to a copkiller-terrorist Assata Shakur http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assata_Shakur. Besides this penning this elegy- Common went to visit her in Cuba, and named his daughter after her.:


A Song For Assata”
by Common

In the Spirit of God.
In the Spirit of the Ancestors.
In the Spirit of the Black Panthers.
In the Spirit of Assata Shakur.
We make this movement towards freedom
for all those who have been oppressed, and all those in the struggle.
Yeah. yo, check it-

There were lights and sirens, gunshots firin
Cover your eyes as I describe a scene so violent
Seemed like a bad dream, she laid in a blood puddle
Blood bubbled in her chest, cold air brushed against open flesh
No room to rest, pain consumed each breath
Shot twice wit her hands up
Police questioned but shot before she answered
One Panther lost his life, the other ran for his
Scandalous the police were as they kicked and beat her
Comprehension she was beyond, tryna hold on
to life. She thought she’d live with no arm
that’s what it felt like, got to the hospital, eyes held tight
They moved her room to room-she could tell by the light
Handcuffed tight to the bed, through her skin it bit
Put guns to her head, every word she got hit
“Who shot the trooper?” they asked her
Put mace in her eyes, threatened to blast her
Her mind raced till things got still
Opened her eyes, realized she’s next to her best friend who got killed
She got chills, they told her: that’s where she would be next
Hurt mixed wit anger-survival was a reflex
They lied and denied visits from her lawyer
But she was buildin as they tried to destroy her
If it wasn’t for this german nurse they woulda served her worse
I read this sister’s story, knew that it deserved a verse
I wonder what would happen if that woulda been me?
All this shit so we could be free, so dig it, y’all.

[Cee-lo vocals]
I’m thinkin’ of Assata, yes.
Listen to my Love, Assata, yes.
Your Power and Pride is beautiful.
May God bless your Soul.

[Common]
It seemed like the middle of the night when the law awakened her
Walkie-talkies cracklin, I see ‘em when they takin her
Though she kinda knew,
What made the ride peaceful was the trees and the sky was blue
Arrived to Middlesex Prison about six inna morning
Uneasy as they pushed her to the second floor in
a cell, one cot, no window, facing hell.
Put in the basement of a prison wit all males
And the smell of misery, seatless toilets and centipedes
She’d exercise, (paint?,) and begin to read
Two years inna hole. Her soul grew weak
Away from people so long she forgot how to speak
She discovered frredom is a unspoken sound
And a wall is a wall and can be broken down
Found peace in the Panthers she went on trial with
One of the brothers she had a child with
The foulness they would feed her, hopin she’s lose her seed
Held tight, knowing the fight would live through this seed
In need of a doctor, from her stomach she’s bleed
Out of this situation a girl was conceived
Separated from her, left to mother the Revolution
And lactated to attack hate
Cause federal and state was built for a Black fate
Her emptiness was filled with beatings and court dates
They fabricated cases, hoping one would stick
And said she robbed places that didn’t exist
In the midst of threats on her life and being caged with Aryan whites
Through dark halls of hate she carried the light
I wonder what would happen if that woulda been me?
All of this shit so we could be free.
Yeah, I often wonder what would happen if that woulda been me?
All of this shit so we could be free, so dig it, people-

[Cee-Lo]
I’m thinkin’ of Assata, yeah.
Listen to my Love, Assata, yeah.
Your Power and Pride, so Beautiful…
May God bless your Soul.
Oooh.

[Common]
Yo
From North Carolina her grandmother would bring
news that she had had a dream
Her dreams always meant what they needed them to mean
What made them real was the action in between
She dreamt that Assata was free in they old house in Queens
The fact that they always came true was the thing
Assata had been convicted of a murder she couldna done
Medical evidence shown she couldna shot the gun
It’s time for her to see the sun from the other side
Time for her daughter to be by her mother’s side
Time for this Beautiful Woman to become soft again
Time for her to breathe, and not be told how or when
She untangled the chains and escaped the pain
How she broke out of prison I could never explain
And even to this day they try to get to her
but she’s free with political asylum in Cuba.

[Cee-Lo vocals]
I’m thinkin’ of Assata, yeah.
Listen to my Love, Assata, yeah.
We’re molded from the same mud, Assata.
We share the same Blood, Assata, yeah.
Your Power and Pride, so Beautiful…
May God bless your Soul.
Your Power and Pride, so Beautiful…
May God bless your Soul.
Oooh.

[Assata]
Freedom! You askin me about freedom. Askin me about freedom?
I’ll be honest with you. I know a whole more about what freedom isn’t
than about what it is, cause I’ve never been free.
I can only share my vision with you of the future, about what freedom is.
Uhh, the way I see it, freedom is– is the right to grow, is the right to
blossom.
Freedom is -is the right to be yourself, to be who you are,
to be who you wanna be, to do what you wanna do. [fade out]

***********
Why can't they write nice poems anymore?
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Re: Poem by Obama's Poet

Postby jakimbro » 17 May 2011, 19:03

All of this shit so we could be free- is what Common concludes that we take away from this criminals 'heroism'. But lets go over again what her courageous acts were:

Criminal charges and dispositionsBetween 1973 and 1977, in New York and New Jersey, Shakur was indicted ten times, resulting in seven different criminal trials. Shakur was charged with two bank robberies, the kidnapping of a Brooklyn heroin dealer, attempted murder of two Queens police officers stemming from a January 23, 1973 failed ambush, and eight other felonies related to the Turnpike shootout.[3][68] Of these trials, three resulted in acquittals, one in a hung jury, one in a change of venue, one in a mistrial, and one in a conviction; three indictments were dismissed without trial.[68]

Criminal charge Court Arraignment Trial Disposition
Attempted armed robbery at Statler Hilton Hotel
April 5, 1971 N.Y. Supreme Court, New York County November 22, 1977 None Dismissed
Bank robbery in Queens
August 23, 1971 U.S. District Court, E.D.N.Y., Brooklyn July 20, 1973 January 5, 1976 – January 16, 1976 Acquitted
Bank robbery in Bronx: Conspiracy, robbery, and assault with a deadly weapon
September 1, 1972 U.S. District Court, S.D.N.Y., Manhattan August 1, 1973 December 3, 1973 – December 14, 1973 Hung jury
December 19, 1973 – December 28, 1973 Acquitted
Kidnapping of James E. Freeman
December 28, 1972 N.Y. Supreme Court, Kings County May 30, 1974 September 6, 1975 – December 19, 1975 Acquitted
Murder of Richard Nelson
January 2, 1973 N.Y. Supreme Court, New York County May 29, 1974 None Dismissed
Attempted murder of policemen Michael O'Reilly and Roy Polliana
January 23, 1973 N.Y. Supreme Court, Queens County May 11, 1974 None Dismissed
Turnpike shootout: First-degree murder, second-degree murder, atrocious assault and battery, assault and battery against a police officer, assault with a dangerous weapon, assault with intent to kill, illegal possession of a weapon, and armed robbery
May 2, 1973 N.J. Superior Court, Middlesex County May 3, 1973 October 9, 1973 – October 23, 1973 Change of venue
January 1, 1974 – February 1, 1974 Mistrial due to pregnancy
February 15, 1977 – March 25, 1977 Convicted
Source: Shakur, 1987, p. xiv.


Exactly how does litany of lawlessness this make us all 'free'?
Whom is it making free and what freedoms are resulting from Assanti's criminal record and career for Americans at large?

And lastly does Obama understand by supporting Common as a poet on a par with Carl Sandburg, that he is promoting Common's Ode to Assante Shakur to the same literary level as Sandburg's biography of Abraham Lincoln?
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