The Right to Remain Silent


The Right to Remain Silent
A pecha kucha (Inspired by the iTunes top 20 chart)

[Blank Space]

When I was six years old

My best friend was white.

We smiled, laughed,

And ran across the playground

Trying to play freeze-tag with time

[Do They Know It’s Christmas]

Int: Split-screen, one white household, the other black.

Scene 1:“Daddy! Mommy!” he screamed as he

Un-wrapped his shiny new go-kart.

Scene 2: Eyes glistening, “I don’t think Santa is going to make it this year baby.”

His mother whispered while staring at the floor.

[Take Me to Church]

One time I asked my father,

“Who created God?”

He stared at me and thought carefully

Before answering… 

[Shake It Off]

There were certain sounds that came and went

Like the footsteps of my grandfather.

So he listened carefully,

Taking notes from a father

He never had.

[All About that Bass]

Jazz has its’ way of soothing the broken.

It gives meaning to the word music,

Bending chords that could mend a heart,

Pouring out rhythm

To quench a depraved soul.


We all thrive off others.

The flesh that remains on your plate after you eat

Was raised by a farmer.

The flesh that remains within me comes from the divine,

Or at-least when I break bread.

[Night Changes]

He told me that his parents

wouldn’t allow us to be friends anymore.

I laid crying on the pale shoulder of my mother that night.

While my dark dad yelled into the phone

In the distance.

[I’m Not the Only One]

Allah, Brahma,

Buddha, God,

Jehovah, Krishna,

Shiva, Yahweh


“We don’t have money for that.’

“But Chase has it!”

Words were mentioned that he didn’t understand,

Sometimes the words white and black

Are unrecognizable when viewed in other languages.

[Steal My Girl]

Lips pressed up against each other

In between the polyester sheets of a Motel 8

Just south of Crenshaw Boulevard.

This is what lust is,

This is what life is.

[Just Staying]

He stayed here for me.

That is what I will say

To the 5 million other children

Of my race that cannot say the same.

He stayed here for me.


12 years to become a graduate.

18 to become an adult.

21 to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life.

75 to live.

13.8 billion to compare.

[I Don’t Fuck with You]

Ext: normal home, party going on next door.

Reader 1: “Hey, you niggers keep it down or I’m coming over there!”

Reader 2: “Nigga, what? Fuck you,

 fuck crackers, and fuck you again.

Look at me, at my skin, and tell me that you won’t pull the trigger.”

[Lips are Movin’]

I have felt chocolate trickle down the sides of my tongue,

Filling my cravings with a satisfaction only she can tell.

As so the ivory that touched my skin,

Checking each note, loving every inch of my body.


My real father died on Tuesday.

That’s all I really remember.

Yesterday my son was born.

Today is Wednesday.


“Put the trumpet to your lips!

Like an eagle the enemy comes

Against the house of the LORD

Because they have transgressed my covenant

And rebelled against my law.” – Hosea 8:1

[Bang Bang]

A worker sorts bullets on an assembly line.

A white male, 28, places a badge upon his chest, telling his family he loves them.

A black male, 18, decides he needs money…now.

A shooting.

A country separated even though only 1.3 million Americans are legally blind.

[Stay High] 

Twirling from the edge of your lips

Lies, fears, pains, and tragedies.

So, inhale.

Let it capture your mind

Only escaping when reality frees you.


Send them to the plank and throw them overboard,

But don’t swim through them, you will drown.

When I am stuck in America’s rip-tide,

I swim sideways,

Escaping the current.