Written by Podigal Peezy on 06 March 2010
I am the purveyor of love
The healer of hearts and minds
My purpose is two fold
Save the world and get the girl
I enter the phone booth at the corner of faith and redemption
There I don a cape quilted with the wisdom of the wisest
Threaded with gold
My ancestral inheritance
Look for me flying upon the winds of destiny
And upon arrival to my destination
I hope they will call me hero
I am spoken and written words
Off the pages, out of mouths
Into the minds of the masses
Let each one teach one
so knowledge proliferates amongst the youth
Stanza upon stanza flowing like the seven seas
Should you drink at the banks of legend
Allow the words to move through your bloodstream
Into your soul
As it is written
I ask that you call me poetry in motion
I am hell bent on finding heaven on earth
My aspirations transcend my physical location
Forever leaving as I’m forever dreaming
My exploits will take me to the furthest lands
Only to bring it back to the people, my people
Thus I dream a prodigal journey
Hoping for warm welcome
I hope against the state of things
Some would call me hopeless
I think you should call me promising
I am the fruit of the labours of love
Although Not yet ripe
I guess I’m a little green
Still covered in the soil that holds my nappy roots
I am yesterday, tomorrow
Still a derivative of my ambitions
Potential energy encased in a sum of imperfections, flawed
I say I am as you are
We are one in the same
And if you are what you are
Then I am what I am
A poetic promissing hero
constantly in motion
So I ask that you call me these things
Or don’t call me at all
Tags: *Snap Snap*
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Written by Podigal Peezy on 04 March 2010
After reading The Cereal Daters’ man-hating post on supporting black men, I expressed my contempt via twitter. They responded with “our posts don’t hate they are intended to stimulate and educate 
.” Fair enough. But the smiley face stimulated intense irritation and a desire to educate women in the same spirit The Cereal Daters have tried to educate us men. Thus, I present to you ten reasons why Players are able to do what they do. Some may say I’m breaking the code. To which I would respond “step yo game up you jive turkey.” And ladies if I offend you, good. Let’s talk about it in the comment section.
#1 You have tunnel vision
Your prototype or “Dream Guy” is a figment of your imagination. I always hear girls say he has to have this or he can’t have that. That guy on the bus might be heading to that job interview that will change his and maybe your life. That man with kids may be the family man you’re looking for. Having a “type” is blocking you from seeing that Mr. Right might show up when you least expect it. Everybody wants the lead singer. Maybe you should “give the drummer some.”
#2 You keep dialing 1800 Fix A Brotha’
A little bit of potential is all you need to keep hope alive. This is why it is The Player’s weapon of choice. With “Dream Guy’s” as scarce as they are, a skilled player can sell a woman a dream by just listening to her talk about her past relationships. He doesn’t have to be sincere to paint a picture of perfection. But eventually actions will speak louder than words and some of you won’t even be listening. Instead, against conventional wisdom, you invest heavily on a fixer upper and pray that he changes. It’s not likely.
#3 Because of The Jump-off
Milk prices are at an all time low because this heifer is giving it away for free. Not really much you can do about it. She’s going to live her life and get exactly what she wants out of the situation. She may even take your man completely. Get over it as quickly as possible and move on. No use crying over spilled milk right?
However, sometimes the jump-off is just the clean-up woman. I’m not excusing cheating by any means, but your nagging, insecurity and sour apple bitter disposition will drive a man right into her arms. Or legs. Which brings me to my next point.
#4 You are the Sour Apple Bitter Chick
Everyone should be innocent until proven guilty. There’s nothing worse than being sincere and having to fight through the emotional walls a woman has put up to keep the last man out. A woman scorned is no good for anyone. You’re pessimistic outlook on life and love is a red flag. It says damaged. My Nana always says “you catch more files with honey than with vinegar.” But flies are attracted to shit too, so that may not be the metaphor I’m looking for. How about “your attitude determines your latitude?” Better? Ok.
#5 Misery Loves Company
Watch the company you keep. If you are rolling with a Sour Apple Bitter Chick, she’s usually a hater. Nothing your dude does will be good enough and she’s definitely not shy about letting you or him know. Nine times out of ten she doesn’t even have a man. Ten times out of ten she’s about to lose him to The Jump-off. If you must consider her advice, know where it’s coming from and take it with a grain of salt. Actually, two grains. Otherwise, politely tell her to mind her own damn business.
#6 It’s a “Player’s” Game …
… and the deck is stacked against those who have the most to lose. The Player is in the game for cheap thrills. Minimum investment for maximum returns. Sex is easy enough to come by these days. Your time, your heart and your commitment should be more expensive. But often women give all four away to men who haven’t earned it. Thus, it is undervalued and The Player gets more than he paid for. Furthermore, in any relationship, the person most willing to walk away maintains a strategic advantage. All is fair in Love and War and the only rules are the ones you set for yourself.
#7 Nice guys don’t finish last. They adapt.
When you were in kindergarten there was the boy who followed you around and offered you half his sandwich. He was also the only one who didn’t laugh at you when you peed your pants (yes peed). Then there was the boy who threw sand at you and pushed you out the way to get to the slide. He tormented you. When you asked your mother why she said, “oh sweetie that little boy just likes you.” She set you up for failure. By now that guy who offered you his sandwich has watched women run towards the sand all his life. Now he’s throwing sand too. Adaptation.
#8 Vitamin D Deficiency
That “Backstroke” is a mutha’ ain’t it? You know you ain’t going nowhere anytime soon if you’re getting that work! We know it too. Good Vitamin D is too hard to come by. You let us know that. I really don’t know what to tell you on this one. I could tell you to keep it on lock until you are certain he’s not an asshole. But the reality is a skilled player will show you what you need to see until you show him what he needs to see. So I guess good luck.
#9 You haven’t learned
Why are you finding yourself in the same situation repeatedly? You’re doing everything right so all dudes must be dogs right? Wrong. The irony is that I haven’t said anything most women don’t already know. However, you’re like children trying to stuff a square block into the round hole. A woman’s intuition should be based on the accumulation of life experiences. All men aren’t dogs, but the more you date, the easier it should be to smell one coming. When you do, don’t try to give him a bath and hope that he stays clean. He won’t.
#10 Finally
You eat cereal alone because it’s better than hating the way we eat cereal when you can do bad all by yourself.
P.S. I actually enjoy The Cereal Daters Blog. Keep it coming ladies. I’m learning. Further, I believe this is a pretty mild list compared to @sethbrundle’s forthcoming “Why Black Women Are Single” series. He’s going go in. #thatisall
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Written by Podigal Peezy on 05 February 2010
In an attempt to solicit financial and political support against the White House and Democrats in Congress, TeaParty.org sent out an email to its members likening President Barack Obama to a “health care pimp” – Bet.Com
Ok we all know he really didn’t say that … publicly. But it’s actually the first thing to come to my mind when I saw it right after a “Ha.” Not an “LOL”, “ROTFL” or even a “Hahahahaha”. Just a “Ha”and “pimpin ain’t easy.” I don’t get all emotional and angry when they disrespect our Commander In Chief. If I had kids I would tell them don’t worry about it. He’s black and black people have endured far worse.
I mostly smile and shake my head because at the end of the day, this is the best they can come up with. I mean why stop there. If I was a hating, small minded racist slob I would have went with the whole shebang. Why not photo-shop in a purple fur coat, a cane, one gold tooth, an artificial pinky nail and a goblet that reads “Helf Care 4 My Niggas.” If you’re gonna do it, do it big. Matter of fact, I’m offended. So my president isn’t worthy of quality insults? Look at the time and energy they put into Bush.
Now those our some presidential insults.
The irony of it all is that our entire diaspora has been, is being and probably will be (unless we wake up) pimped for the foreseeable future. Now we ain’t no “ho’s”, but yea we been pimped. So I’ll take this in stride with the notion that the leader of the free world is “African-American.” And while I’m at it here’s a *ye shrug* for the haters:
And why not throw in a “take that, take that, take that …” a la Diddy:
My President is Black Lame!
Tags: *Ye Shrug*, Barack Obama, Diddy, Pimpin', Politics, Take That
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Written by Podigal Peezy on 04 February 2010
So while I was in Vegas over new years I tuned in to the Jackson’s reality show. Most everyone has heard of it but I’m sure few have dared to actually tune in. And with good reason. Nevertheless, I watched and was instantly entertained and disgusted at the same time. Throughout the entire show I couldn’t help but to think, “look what they did to Jermaine Jackson.” I mean look at him. I say “they” because nobody in their right mind would do that to their self. He looks like a badly aged Ken doll. Why does he have finger waves on the side of his head?!
What cracked me up the most was his interaction with Tito. Tito don’t play that shit. I guess he’s picked up this prima donna attitude or since Michael passed. Or maybe he’s always been like that. At any rate like I said, Tito don’t play that shit. A&E has given the go ahead for a second season but it seems the brothers are holding out. Again, with good reason. Hopefully sleeping dogs will lie in this case. I’m not hating. This is just not the way I want to remember the Jackson’s.
Tags: #EpicFail, Jackson Family, Jermaine Jackson
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Written by Podigal Peezy on 04 February 2010
Yo! What happened to Teedra?! With a voice as beautiful as her’s, it’s a tragedy she hasn’t reached mainstream success. To say she’s gorgeous would be an understatement. Certified #Spottieottiedopaliscious. Her album Complex Simplicity is classic. Everyone I know that has it loves it. My personal favorites would have to be “Be Your Girl” and “You Better Tell Her.”
Apparently she was slated to co-star in the upcoming Wendy Williams Biopic “Queen of Media.” but it appears she was replaced by Angie Martinez. Her next album The Young Lioness was supposed to be released in 2009. Where is it?! Google has failed me on this one. I haven’t been able to find any news beyond 2008. What yall know good?
*Update: 03/03/2010
A little late but if you haven’t heard Ms. Moses has dropped another mixtape. #Quality. Check it out.
Tags: #wherearetheynow, Spottieottiedopaliscious, Teedra Moses
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Written by Podigal Peezy on 04 February 2010
The mind can be a scary place at times.
We were all given brains whether we use them or not.
Sometimes after I have exhausted all other social options I am left to my self and my thoughts.
And I am left with no choice but to use my greatest gift and I think.
I think about how one slavery gave birth to another.
How our current state of economic enslavement is the progeny of mental and physical bondage.
400 years of rapture on the backs of descendant kings and queens whose own offspring have scarce knowledge of the greatness in their blood.
O the irony when the source of civilization has been diminished to a fraction of its potential.
So I think the first has become last.
And I think when the clock strikes 12 at dawn in any century, any decade, any year, any day, any hour, any second, there are, have been and will always be …Niggas.
In the since that one group, whether large or small, shall be oppressed by another.
Black niggas, latin niggas, asian niggas, white niggas.
Intelligent niggas, angry niggas, strivin niggas, triflin’ niggas.
Just niggas.
But I don’t think this is our destiny. I know its not mine.
I have been to the lands from which we came. I have stood on the banks of suffering in the dungeons of despair where the stench of hopelessness is still in the air.
I have stood in the darkness and heard the voices of our ancestors.
Where they speak to me.
They say its in my hands now.
They whisper the recipe’s of success in my ear.
They breathe strength into my soul.
I think about the things in my heart.
Anger in turmoil with gratefulness.
Grateful for the gift of hope.
Grateful that if we know where we have been we can get there again.
And hope, that quintessential emotion, is truly all that we need.
I think hope is the foundation of my sanity.
But I think the task is daunting.
Forgive my doubt.
But I grow weary with the notion that we our outnumbered and outgunned.
Unarmed with the knowledge that the strength lies within us.
Because the greatest lie they ever told us is that we are inadequate.
And I haven’t heard the truth in so long I feel our story begin to fade.
And then thinking becomes too difficult and too heavy.
And deeper still grows the chasm that encompasses my perception of what should be and what is reality.
And low and tired is my soul.
In my weeping heart is disappointment.
But I think… I hope tomorrow brings promise.
And I think that’s enough thinking for now.
And I don’t wanna think no more.
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Written by Podigal Peezy on 03 February 2010
And the miles I had walked had betrayed me
And the promise of life’s fruits had eluded me
And confidence and swagger had come and gone
And I wept and delved forward, pridefully, still
But the tears I shed did nothing to squelch the flames of the journey ahead and at my back
But through the fire I pressed on in search of cooler trails
But in blindness and solitude
But I fell, destitute
Alas out of the dark depths of my wayward soul a light shined
Alas a beacon of hope
Alas I was no longer alone
Alas I never was, ever
For though I could not stand, I was lifted onto the backs of others
For they knew that road
For they had passed through it before me
For they knew of its torment, treachory
Because in all my ambition, I never noticed them walking with me
Because they had forgiven me before I left
Because my journey was theirs
Because it was important, dire
So they carried me for a spell
So my ego fell off when they lifted me
So a new one would grow
So I rested and reflected, solomly
As the prodigal son returns to the land of his father
As learned as he never was
As strong as he never was
As humble as he never was, ever
Only until he is strong enough to leave again
Only never alone again because alone he never was.
Only his trials and tribulations could make them proud
Only on their backs can he stand, tall
Now I have stepped down and walk alone again
Now their strength is my strength
Now I don’t walk alone
Now and then they walk with me, always
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Ask me anything.