Calm (By Y. Shabazz)

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Original Photo by Y. Shabazz

The sands beneath my feet,

the sun upon my face.

The clouds above my crown,

drifting out into space.

 

The winds against my breath,

cool off with water spray.

The never-ending horizon,

inhale…another day.

 

The sun is gone adrift,

the moon will take its spot.

I learn to live the now,

and love the day I’ve got.

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Another Chicago Moment (79th Street in the morning)

Early morning on 79th street
Watching the sun spill gentle down gangways
Through the treetops
Gently it spills…
And for a moment, just for a solitary moment
Serinity lives here among us.
You see, we know peace too, we know love,
Grace, soul, and spirit
But the hunger pangs sometimes get the babies…
They get the babies
They get the babies
…riled up and angry in their search for sugar cause reallyall they searching for is something sweet to offset the bitter..
But in the morning… early in the morning
we bathe in the quiet beauty of 79th street in the morning…

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Abstract Motherland

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An abstract oil painting can be a lot more than just wall art. Ya’qub Shabazz gives us a taste of West Africa with this, the first in a series of African Mask oil paintings.Title: Abstract Motherland
Size: 24″ x 36″
Condition: Excellent Brand new
Type: Original Oil Painting on wrapped canvas

This painting will have texture unique just to this painting, a fingerprint that can never be repeated and each brush stroke is unique and impossible to repeat. Each painting I create is one of a kind.

Visit www.sankofastudios.com

 

Still Strange Fruit…(Never Forget)

They shoot me dead
When they see my face
They shoot me dead
when I forget my “place”
They shoot me dead
When there is no sound
They shoot me dead
When I’m on the ground
They shot me dead
Whether young or old
They shoot me dead
to sadden my soul
They shoot me dead
When my hair is wild
They shoot me dead
Because it’s the style
they shoot me dead
for chasing the bag
they shoot me dead
when my pants sag
they shoot me dead
while begging please
they shoot me dead
for smoking trees
they shoot me dead
for praising Allah
they shoot me dead
for driving a car
they shoot me dead
when I refuse their glory
they shoot me dead
then rewrite the story
they shoot me dead
to kill my root
they shoot me dead
cause I’m still strange fruit…(never forget)

 

 

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To embrace our space…

The city is alive with life.

Blacks grin in the sun through the hot winds and rains

happiness grows unique in hells fire

but there is relief,

relief to smile, relief to laugh, to scream,

embrace our space.

THIS IS OUR CITY!!!

And we don’t own, but who cares

we give the city color,

we give it spice, we give blood,

and we’re here to stay.

THIS IS OUR CITY!!!

We scorch the streets

careless with care, bleeding detachment

and we grin,

grin face to face with the fires of hell,

but there is relief.

Relief to scream, relief to laugh, to smile,

to embrace our space…

Still Wearing The Mask (Excerpt)

We grin when we hear our spirit manufactured for pleasures sake
We even find ourselves moving shamelessly according to these false vibrations seeking something familiar, something…..true
Yet you still look upon us an uncouth while we shimmer, pop, lock, and dance to shake away the pain
we sing to empty our  lungs so that the coughs born of smoldering legacies feel somehow justified
still
      while
               wearing
                                 THE MASK
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In honor of  Mother Maya Angelou and Paul Lawrence Dunbar