Is it love for character
or hype over stereotypes?
All types of stereos
have Othello's Blues on repeat
as tears drop nonstop to the beat.
All types of stereos let Othello's Blues play,
but Angela wouldn't give Calvin the time of day
and tagged the term "SPIT"
over his pastoral portraits to her.
His annual income was enough to pay bills
but not enough to make her smile.
Calvin once asked her what was on her mind,
but she held up three fingers
and told him to read between the lines.
Nevertheless, he would treat her like a queen,
and she beat him like a peasant.
Angela wanted the pleasant life
and figured that only a white man's hand
could grant her the blessing.
She talked with enough disgruntled girlfriends
to suspect that black men were boys
who would never get their act together.
Then, on a rainy autumn night,
the weekend when clocks fall back,
she responded likewise at a club
as brown eyes met blue eyes,
white guy spied her black thighs,
and it was lust at first sight.
She and Matt flirted and left
the desks of Logic 101 deserted
as they leaned back to the DJ's tracks,
getting lost in the gloss of strobe lights.
It's just what she dreamed:
a white guy dressed in the best of success
with Benjamins, Cris, a slick whip
and a Rolex dangling from his wrist.
Yet, all he wonders is, "What's next?"
Matt just wanted to be fulfilled
by those tip drill skills that he watched
sisters shake in video shows,
so he figured her to be no more than a ho.
Later that night, her "Mr. Right" did it right
but couldn't remember her name between moans
because Lust wants to get and please self
while Love wants to give and please others,
which is what Calvin tried to give her everyday.
A true "Mr. Right" will give his last two mites
to please the woman he loves,
beyond her skin to what's within her heart:
character, respect and spirit.
So in the morning after Matt vanished,
Angela laid in anguish across her bed
and put Othello's Blues on repeat,
spinning, like her head,
in her CD player.
Is it love for character
or hype over stereotypes?
All types of stereos
have Othello's Blues on repeat
as tears drop nonstop to the beat.
Kyle lived two doors down
from Miranda's apartment,
where he would slip love notes
under the door, only to get the boot
due to his Korean roots.
He felt no need to worship her white skin
because it was only one of the aspects
that made her a knockout to him.
Kyle went the extra mile
to profile his affections
and promised Miranda protection
if only given the chance,
but that was a dance
she chose to sit out
since all she ever heard about Koreans
ranged from docile freaks
to computer geeks.
All that Miranda wanted
was someone strong in his build
with broad high-roller shoulders to cry on,
and she figured that she found them in Ron,
a self-proclaimed big name in the thug game.
This is all that Ron ever knew and embraced
when it came to defining the lines of his race,
and Miranda fanned herself
with late night thoughts
of laying next to a black stud
who proves he's the boss
because deep down don't they all
want to scale her white hills
on elephants like Hannibal
and conquer her kind like concubines?
O.K., so every now and then,
Ron would get a little flared,
call her out of name
and yank her blond hair,
but didn't that only suggest
that he really cared?
Miranda thought she couldn't
be a brother's lover
without being able
to handle the rought stuff,
so, in his clout and in his pants,
Kyle could never measure up.
One day, Ron stomped down her hallway,
too busy checking his two-way
to notice Kyle filing through his keys,
so Ron knocked him to his knees
and flew by like a cool breeze.
Kyle wasn't weak but remained
strong enough to turn the other cheek,
watching him pounding on Miranda's door.
She let Ron inside and practically cried
when he accused her of playing hide
and seek with one of his crew.
Now what's a broken woman to do,
not knowing where to step in a heated kitchen
without upsetting eggshells?
These borderline crack-ups
aren't worth the brain cells she expelled
falling for a hood caricature
instead of good character.
Ron punched and crunched her jaw,
ordering her to step before she gets swept.
Hearing the sound of Miranda's body
folding down to the ground,
Kyle walked outside his door,
only to see Ron take off running.
Seconds later, Kyle met Miranda
curled on her floor with her door left ajar,
and all that his heart could compel him to do
was ease her afoot, look into her eyes
and wipe them both dry
as her stereo in the background replied:
Is it love for character
or hype over stereotypes?
All types of stereos
have Othello's Blues on repeat
as tears drop nonstop to the beat.
Copyright 2005. Streetlight Publications.
or hype over stereotypes?
All types of stereos
have Othello's Blues on repeat
as tears drop nonstop to the beat.
All types of stereos let Othello's Blues play,
but Angela wouldn't give Calvin the time of day
and tagged the term "SPIT"
over his pastoral portraits to her.
His annual income was enough to pay bills
but not enough to make her smile.
Calvin once asked her what was on her mind,
but she held up three fingers
and told him to read between the lines.
Nevertheless, he would treat her like a queen,
and she beat him like a peasant.
Angela wanted the pleasant life
and figured that only a white man's hand
could grant her the blessing.
She talked with enough disgruntled girlfriends
to suspect that black men were boys
who would never get their act together.
Then, on a rainy autumn night,
the weekend when clocks fall back,
she responded likewise at a club
as brown eyes met blue eyes,
white guy spied her black thighs,
and it was lust at first sight.
She and Matt flirted and left
the desks of Logic 101 deserted
as they leaned back to the DJ's tracks,
getting lost in the gloss of strobe lights.
It's just what she dreamed:
a white guy dressed in the best of success
with Benjamins, Cris, a slick whip
and a Rolex dangling from his wrist.
Yet, all he wonders is, "What's next?"
Matt just wanted to be fulfilled
by those tip drill skills that he watched
sisters shake in video shows,
so he figured her to be no more than a ho.
Later that night, her "Mr. Right" did it right
but couldn't remember her name between moans
because Lust wants to get and please self
while Love wants to give and please others,
which is what Calvin tried to give her everyday.
A true "Mr. Right" will give his last two mites
to please the woman he loves,
beyond her skin to what's within her heart:
character, respect and spirit.
So in the morning after Matt vanished,
Angela laid in anguish across her bed
and put Othello's Blues on repeat,
spinning, like her head,
in her CD player.
Is it love for character
or hype over stereotypes?
All types of stereos
have Othello's Blues on repeat
as tears drop nonstop to the beat.
Kyle lived two doors down
from Miranda's apartment,
where he would slip love notes
under the door, only to get the boot
due to his Korean roots.
He felt no need to worship her white skin
because it was only one of the aspects
that made her a knockout to him.
Kyle went the extra mile
to profile his affections
and promised Miranda protection
if only given the chance,
but that was a dance
she chose to sit out
since all she ever heard about Koreans
ranged from docile freaks
to computer geeks.
All that Miranda wanted
was someone strong in his build
with broad high-roller shoulders to cry on,
and she figured that she found them in Ron,
a self-proclaimed big name in the thug game.
This is all that Ron ever knew and embraced
when it came to defining the lines of his race,
and Miranda fanned herself
with late night thoughts
of laying next to a black stud
who proves he's the boss
because deep down don't they all
want to scale her white hills
on elephants like Hannibal
and conquer her kind like concubines?
O.K., so every now and then,
Ron would get a little flared,
call her out of name
and yank her blond hair,
but didn't that only suggest
that he really cared?
Miranda thought she couldn't
be a brother's lover
without being able
to handle the rought stuff,
so, in his clout and in his pants,
Kyle could never measure up.
One day, Ron stomped down her hallway,
too busy checking his two-way
to notice Kyle filing through his keys,
so Ron knocked him to his knees
and flew by like a cool breeze.
Kyle wasn't weak but remained
strong enough to turn the other cheek,
watching him pounding on Miranda's door.
She let Ron inside and practically cried
when he accused her of playing hide
and seek with one of his crew.
Now what's a broken woman to do,
not knowing where to step in a heated kitchen
without upsetting eggshells?
These borderline crack-ups
aren't worth the brain cells she expelled
falling for a hood caricature
instead of good character.
Ron punched and crunched her jaw,
ordering her to step before she gets swept.
Hearing the sound of Miranda's body
folding down to the ground,
Kyle walked outside his door,
only to see Ron take off running.
Seconds later, Kyle met Miranda
curled on her floor with her door left ajar,
and all that his heart could compel him to do
was ease her afoot, look into her eyes
and wipe them both dry
as her stereo in the background replied:
Is it love for character
or hype over stereotypes?
All types of stereos
have Othello's Blues on repeat
as tears drop nonstop to the beat.
Copyright 2005. Streetlight Publications.
posted by kenneth white at 11:12 PM
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