Arts


People Get Ready: In Honor of Curtis Mayfield

Tony Robles/PNN
Thursday, October 2, 2008;

People get ready
There's a train-a-comin
You dont need no baggage
You just get on board

--Curtis Mayfield

Ordinary Guy: A Professor, music and poverty scholar with a "degree in streetology"--Joe Bataan

Tony Robles/PNNReviewforTheReVolution
Monday, April 21, 2008;

I don't drive beautiful cars
And I don't own an elegant home
Don't have thousands to spend
All chits I got is for the weekend
I'm just an ordinary, ordinary guy
Afro-Filipino, ordinary guy
That's what I am
The ordinary man
You left behind

When We Were Kings-harassed, gentrified, silenced, criminalized for playing his drums in San Francisco

"To me, the drum has been the communicator since the beginning of time. I'm sure it was the first message ever sent. When I think of the beat centuries ago, it was the only thing that kept us together."
--Lloyd Price

Happy Birthday Uncle Al

Tony Robles/PNN
Wednesday, February 17, 2010

February 16th is Uncle Al's Birthday. Uncle Al was a person who made things happen. But he did it in such a way, in such subtle ways, that before you knew it, what needed to be done was done, what needed to be said was said and what was needed most was provided for.

Mama said Knock YOU Out: A Mixed-Race Indigenous (Pacific Islander) woman chasing the lie of the "American" Dream

sadya maalam
Friday, March 12, 2010;

You know growing up I always wanted a white mom
White mothers knew how to drive cars
They would pick you up from school & have chocolate chip cookies waiting for you when you got home
They were calm, collected, and didn’t yell
They spoke slowly yet surely
They didn’t hit you
Shit, everybody knew white American parents didn’t beat your ass and I was sick of getting my ass beat.
They would help you with your homework
Talk to you about puberty
They would tell your friends to call her by her first name

Felicita Pedroza - Poverty Scholar and Boriqua Poet: A Poem

Felicita Pedroza
Saturday, March 13, 2010

LET ME

I want to blast the resonance of your voice to dance on your lips
I want to jump on your breast and glide down to your hips
Let me unwind on your cheeks and leap over your pores
Let me dwell deep within your heart’s core

I want to bathe in the flush of your cheeks
I want to be your valor when you feel weak
Let me roll around on your tongue
Let me breathe my passion into your lungs

I want to climb up your spine
I want to leave traces of kisses behind
Let me taste your neck and collarbone

Poema para pachamama/Poem for Mother Earth 2010: Marlon Crump's Poem

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

The Sun you clouded, the Sons you ousted

It was all here for you to feast

But you shared your crops and lives, even died for the nature of the beast.

fruit from the poisonous tree

Replaced by sons hung who grew land

Every single seed in it sad, sullen, and

Seething by the misdeeds, and acts of man

Seeds of man, seeds of woman

stricken with sicknesses to slow death

Health in the greeds, in the hands of wealth

The sun you clouded, the sons you ousted

Round ray of light for existence,

in great peril from the fires ignited

Poema para pachamama/Poem for Mother Earth 2010: An indigenous healing in honor of Earth Day 2010

Ingrid de Leon
Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Que rico olor de la tiera agradable porque esta mojada

Me recuerda al campo que me vio crecer

El olor incomparable .cuando cahe la llubia en primabera

Los arboles se sienten cortesudos y moroñosos

!como se siente la tierra por las mañanas cuando caee el llelo!

Escucho el aire por las ramas de los arboles y veo como las hojas se mueben de un lado a otro . con un silbido suabe .

Me recuerdo de aquellas lindas tardes .

Sin contaminascion! en el bello campo!

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