"Purple painted picture" , a collaborative poem by James Jeter & myself.
I come from a place of purple painted pictures.
This place, tainted
with watercolored tears of gang funerals. This picture, framed by
steel prisons of complacency. Black and brown beef mixing into tacos
on fair oaks street. Puberty deprived princesses with dwarfs kicking
in their bellies. the city of dying roses ... Pasadena, california.
In D, see indigo stained streets are cemented with broken promises and
misguided expectations, as though the C stands for clover, four luck
is seldom found in the battlefield that circumstance makes of you.
Dear nations capital, I use to call you home, but now repping blocks
turned into repping caskets and weeping mothers, I am a prisoner of
war in my own land.