Mythology of Pussy, A Rite of Passage, Draft #2

The Mythology of Pussy, A Rite of Passage

Marvin X

Cast:
Ptah Allah El, poet
Raynetta Rayzetta, choreographer/dancer
Rehema Bah, dancer
Rashidah Mwongozi, singer, muscian, dancer
Augusta Collins, singer, musician
Phavia Kujichagulia, poet,singer, musician
Ayodele Nzingha, director, poet, actress
Roxanne Ware, poet
Paradise, poet
Tatiana Green, actress
Geoffrey Grier, actor
Marvin X, poet

Mythology, 1st Movement

Lights up on Rasheedah singing "Pearls" (India Arie version). She is joined from stage right by Mechelle and stage left by Augusta who join her in song. From center stage come dangers in African costume, led by Raynetta, soon joined by Rehema who takes center stage. Eventually Marvin X enters to recite For the Women over the top of Pearls. Raynetta performs dance to For the Women. Marvin is joined by Ayo who recites with him. As song and poem fades, dancers and singers exit. Marvin begins narrative of Mythology.

For the women

For the women
who bear children
and nurture them with truth
for the women
who cook and clean
behind thankless men
for the women
who love so hard so true so pure
for the women
with faith in God and men
for the women
alone with beer and rum
for the women
searching for a man
at the club college church party
for the women
independent of men
for the women
searching their souls
for the women
who smoke crack and freak
for the women
who love only women
for the women
who play and run and never show
for the women
who rise in revolt in hand with men
who say never never never again
for the women
who suffer abuse and cry for justice
for the women
happy and free of maternal madness
for the women
who study and write
for the women
who sell their love to starving men
for the women
who love to make love and be loved by men
for the women
of Africa who work so hard
for the women
of America who suffer the master
for the women
who turn to God in prayer and patience
for the women
who are mothers of children and mothers of men
for the women
who suffer inflation recession abortion rejection
for the women
who understand the rituals of men and women
for the women who share
for the women who are greedy
for the women with power
for the women with nothing
for the women locked down
for the women down town
for the women who break horses
for the women in the fields
for the women who rob banks
for the women who kill
for the women of history
for the women of now
I salute you
A man.

NARRATOR

Pussy is a many splendid thing. Pussy power has been known to help construct civilizations and destroy them. Wars have been fought over pussy. And the most powerful men in the world have been brought low behind pussy. What a powerful thing it is, totally confounding men time after time, season after season, century after century. The more men learn about pussy, the more they forget—or shall we say, they got it (theory) but didn’t get it (the practice).

It would probably be proper to first discuss the mythology of dick before discussing the mythology of pussy, but for dramatic effect we will continue our discussion of pussy, for it is common sense that what is good for the goose is good for the gander. And furthermore, there is more oppression in the world caused by men’s attitude toward pussy than toward their dick, although the patriarchal society gives dominance to the dick, but in the male’s headlong rush to enter the pussy, he becomes blind to his own sexuality and consumed by the need to plunge his organ inside the vagina. In his blindness and his resulting sexual pathology, he becomes numb to the reality that the female is more than pussy, that pussy has a mind, a brain, a cornucopia of emotions based on phases of the moon. “If you believe I am just a physical thing, you'll never see the spiritual power I bring”, says a poem by Phavia Kujichagulia entitled YO YO YO: AUSTRALOPITHECUS AFRENSIS (Enter Phavia)

PHAVIA

yo…yo…yo…in case you didn’t know

I’m a woman, a mother, dred daughta, soul lover

sweet solid chocolate rock of Jah womanhood

money in the bank, soul sistah

knock on wood it’s all good

after the years of tears

the fears

the lies

the cries

somebody better recognize

(somebody better recognize)

duck and dodge, comin’ up like God

sistahs surviving the odds

so drop the sexist hype

stop the stereotypes

‘cause I’m an ebony Goddess

Queen mother doing it right

you’ve got to fight to survive

the things you see on t.v.

you can believe in the media hype

or you can believe in me

‘cause if you believe I’m just a physical thing

then you’ll never see the spiritual power that I bring



believe I’m the Eve to the Garden of Eden

know that I’m the virgin that gave birth to Jesus

Australopithecus Afrensis

since 3.5 million B.C.E.

everybody on the planet had to come through me

from the Olduvia Gorge human life was born

from the thighs of momma Africa’s Great Rift Valley

so take a tally, take notes

whatever it takes to rock your boat

but just know that I’m the Eve to the Garden of Eden

know that I’m the virgin that gave birth to Jesus



I’m the first

I’m the last

I’m the present to your past

Sumerian princess from Kemet’s Nile

Babylonian, Dravidian, Olmec child





ire daughta gave birth to one human race

that’s what you see upon I & I face

though the media tries to disguise my name

I’m the mother of justice

Ma’at is my name

so no more blame

no more shame

no more pain

no more games



yo…yo…yo…in case you didn’t know

I’m a woman, a mother, dred daughta, soul lover

sweet solid chocolate rock of jah womanhood

money in the bank, soul sistah

knock on wood it’s all good

after the years of tears

the fears

the lies

the cries

somebody better recognize

(somebody better recognize)

duck and dodge, comin’ up like God

sistahs surviving the odds

so drop the sexist hype

stop the stereotypes

‘cause I’m an ebony Goddess

Queen mother comin’ up right

you’ve got to fight to survive

the things you see on t.v.

you can believe in the media hype

or you can believe in me

‘cause if you believe I’m just a physical thing

then you’ll never see the spiritual power that I bring

I said… if you believe I’m just a physical thing

then you’ll never see the spiritual power that I bring



yo…yo…yo…

just thought you ought to know

(used by permission, all rights reserved by Phavia)



NARRATOR

But rather than consider the totality of pussy, let’s limit our discussion to the physicality of pussy, although we may, by the end of this essay, arrive at a more holistic attitude toward pussy. In our initial discussion here, let us then deal with pussy as a physical thing, somehow unconnected to the phenomenon known as “woman.”

Let us begin by saying pussy is transient, elusive and ephemeral. “See,” a woman demonstrated to me as she jumped, “When I jumped my pussy jumped—therefore my pussy belongs to me.” Thus the locus of control of pussy is with the pussy, not any external source such as a man, based on marriage rites and patriarchal social definitions of authority, or de facto slavery when the female is viewed as chattel (personal) property. “I pay the cost to be the boss.”

The time is way past for men to get a grip on themselves regarding the matter of pussy and their warped attitude toward it that is primitive, reactionary and in the modern world forces men into court mandated anger management classes, and often jail and prison as a result of domestic violence. The purpose of this discussion is to bring about progressive consciousness on this matter so that men finally “get it,” and in the process free the woman of oppression and free themselves as well, so both man and woman can pursue their divinity by transcending the focus on sexuality to reach the higher level of spirituality.

What If (Call and Response)


POET

What if there was no God but God

No Allah Jesus Jehovah Buddha Marx Lenin Jah Damballah

What if there was no God but God

No religion but God

No Muslim, Christian, Jew, Buddhist, Hindu

No God but God

No Baptist Sunni Shiite Zionist Hebrew Communist Sikh Catholic God in Christ

Methodist Sufi

Atheist

No God but God

No woman man child grandmother grandfather uncle aunt

No God but God

No holiday except everyday is holy day

No Sabbath but everyday no Juma’a but everyday

No prayin but all day

All day we say nothing but No God but God

No more Bible Qur’an Torah

No God but God

No conversation no sermon no speech no words but silence and

NO God but God

No moaning no laughing

No God but God

no tears no wars

No God but God

No killing no lying

No God but God

No Al Humdulilah

No Hallelujah

No Hail Krishna

No Jah Rastafari

No God but God

The One

The Unity

Eternal

Everlasting

Loving

Peaceful

Maker

Owner

No God but God

What if what if what if

Maybe maybe maybe

Believe it believe it

Because it is

One God One Truth One Reality One Unity

No sects schisms divisions religions boxes tribes nations

One humanity One God

What if there is no God but God

What if what if what if

No temple no church no masjed

No God but God

No preacher no imam no rabbi no priest no minister no shaman no poet

No God but God

No prophet no messenger no messiah

No God but God

What if gay marry gay

Lesbian marry lesbian

Man marry woman

Man marry women

Woman marry men

Ho’s be with tricks

Tricks be with ho’s

What if what if what if

There is No God but God

No one beats woman

No one beats man

No one beats child

No one kills no one

No God but God

What if there is no war

What if there is peace on the planet

No God but God

What if guns are no more

No God but God

All is God

God is All

God is the people

God is the cow

God is the horse

God is the tree

God is the river

God is the fish

God is the child

God is the youth

God is the old people

God is the poor

God is the rich

God is the hungry

God is the sick

God is the dope fiend

God is the alcoholic

God is the sinner

No God but God

What if what if what if

There is no God but God

What if God is the captive you won’t liberate

The child you won’t love

The mama you hate

The daddy you hate

What if there is No God but God

What if God is the fear

You won’t release

God is the pain you won’t release

God is the love you won’t release

God is the tears you won’t cry

God is the lies you tell

God is the mountain you won’t climb

God is the success you won’t try

God is the beauty you don’t see

God is time

Running out the hourglass

God is the body you refuse to heal

God is the mind you refuse to feed

What if what if what if

What if God is ready when you ain’t ready

What if God is ready when you get ready

What if what if what if

What if there is no God but God

What if God is the forgiveness you won’t give

What if God is the denial you drown in like a hog in slop

What if what if what if

What if God is the peace in your house

The love in your life

The joy on your face

The happiness in your heart

The thankfulness of your smile

What if there is NO God but God

What if my life and my death are all for God

Not for woman, not for man

Not over a woman, not over a man

Life and death are all for God

What if what if what if

What if I grieve for nothing

Because God is everything

Whatever God wants I want

Whatever God don’t want I don’t want

Whatever God has I have

Whatever God don’t have I don’t want

What if what if what if

There is No God but God.

NARRATOR


Of course the roots of this sexual dysfunction are religious based—and nearly all the religions are guilty, certainly the patriarchal religions, Judaism, Christianity, Islam.

The educational system enforces the religious order by the sin of omission or saying nothing. After all, a person can attend the highest universities in the land, Harvard, Yale, Stanford, without ever having a class on human sexuality or male/female psychology and socialization.

And so the male, in the absence of manhood training, is left to his own ignorant notions of the nature and value of pussy. His main concern is that the pussy is his and nobody else’s. That he can come and go into the pussy at will, at his beck and call. Of course this is a mental blindness he must overcome immediately so he can enter the road to spiritual maturation.

He cannot continue throughout his life in these enlightened times with such backward notions of pussy. Pussy is never static but ever moving, dynamic and fluid. Pussy told me, “I can come with anyone.” But in the cave man’s mind, pussy is static, thus the man is shocked when pussy shows its fluid and dynamic nature jumping in tune with another dick or pussy for that matter. These days, pussies are jumping in tune with each other, partly due to male ignorance of feminine psychosexuality, but more importantly due to the effeminization of black males by societal forces or institutional racism.

The social construct has always been to keep the black male from the reins of power. In the Sisyphusian mythology, we advance to retreat, for with each advance the rules change so we must renew the march up the hill, for the closer we get, the more the mountain top retreats to higher ground. The 60s was the great leap forward in black manhood, but it was crushed of necessity by the US government—black men were determined to take power by force of arms—which could only mean civil war, so they had to be stopped—no society can risk civil unrest by its slaves or former slaves and/or their descendants.

This rush to manhood had to be stopped by any means necessary, infiltration, agent provocateurs, disinformation, sabotage, conspiracy, murder, false charges leading to imprisonment or exile, drugs, sex and rock and roll.

Perhaps a well disciplined army could have withstood the barrage from the oppressor America, but brothers went mad with power, misusing pussy while the government used pussy to destroy the movement by using pussy power to cause chaos in the movement.
Sonia wrote, “What a white woman got cept her white pussy?” She also told us about brothers taking pussy in the name of Fanon, Fanon, Fanon—the “revolutionary screw!”

As activist parents were terrorized by the oppressor, the men in turn terrorized the women, often beating them in the name of black power. The children took note of this parental behavior and some of the males emulated their fathers. And daughters emulated their mothers by remaining passive and submitting to male oppression. The religions enforced this notion of male domination or “leadership.” But when the blind lead the blind, they both fall into the ditch together. How can the male lead when he is ignorant to knowledge of self? Has no knowledge of Supreme Wisdom, or if he does, he doesn't know how to apply it! So he is blind, yet he is supposed to be in authority over his woman—his pussy, rather. This doesn’t make sense!The women fled from this ignorance to embrace each other, finally free from male terrorism, the man who only saw her pussy as pussy, never having a name, a personality and spirituality.


The gay/lesbian revolution caught the fallout from the failure of the pussy culture, the deconstruction of the patriarchy that could not remain in the process of the modern technological revolution that forced the woman out of the house as chattel slave--and once she saw the city, she would never return to the country. World War II brought her the beginning of economic independence with the desecration of the male population from the war. It instituted the matrifocal household or female dominated culture that would become pervasive as we entered the new millennium. The 60s revolution was the last outbreak of black manhood, afterwhich came the crushing power of the state to crush his nuts back into the sands of time, drugging him out, imprisonment, lack of economic opportunity and homosexuality took its toll.

POET

(either a mime or dance to the following poem)

I love Lesbians
Cause they excite me
in their rejection of m
I love them cause they hate me
in their hatred is drama
I love drama
standing next to them
chest to chest
cheek to cheek
they step backward
at my manly aggression
I love their honesty
in defense of community
of course I don't listen
understand no part of no
my arrogant masculinity
macho disrespect
but I wouldn't take the pussy
have become wiser
in old age.


NARRATOR

After losing control of the pussy forever, some men turned into pussy, became weak and passive, a disgusting representation of the macho man so familiar to the female who concluded if she was going to have a woman she might as well have a real woman. Terrified of the new woman, the pussy man turned to his own kind for support, adding to the devastation of his gender. Do not think societal forces had no play in his deconstruction, for the 60s terrorized him as much as he had terrified the state--and of course the state won with its awesome police and military power. The state went a step further: it turned the male against himself, his brotherhood, by supplying the drugs and guns that would further deplete the male population by creating internal fear as well as external.

As his woman seized power allowed her by the state and given her by the powerlessness of her man who suffered a military and political defeat after the 60s rebellion, the next generation of males tried to continue the sexual domination with the rise of hip hop culture, the culture that is the direct descendant of 60s black power culture. The young males saw their fathers abuse their mothers and continued the tradition, even trying to extend the pimp/ho culture. So the black woman had a moment of glory when she became a "queen" in the sixties, but by the 80s she was depicted as ho, dog, bitch, even with her advance education and attempt at economic parity, thus equality. In short, his woman was completely and forevermore out of control unless he accepted reciprocity which was anathema to the patriarchal ideal of dominating the pussy.

But with female economic security, the woman would not tolerate his reactionary view of her as pussy. Or maybe she would flip the script and make him her boy toy, to be kicked out at her whim, depending on her emotional disposition or phases of the moon.

Alona Clifton, a political woman in the Bay Area, asked what happened to the love revealed in the song, I Love You Porgey? Indeed, the passion is gone, the chase, the capture, the triumph of domination. It is all fake these days. No one is true, but lies prevail and pervade the love ritual. What has love got to do with it, Tina asked? And Janet said, "What have you done for me lately?" And so we have arrived at a moment in the sun wherein the Creator has things fixed, as Sun Ra taught me, either do the right thing, or we can't go forward or backward in our relationships. Relationships are fragile at best, with men and women filled with insecurity.
Look at the tragic love affair of the young quarterback. It represents the woman asserting her rights to the dick, and so the script has flipped. She owns the penis now, are we not to assume, to the extent that she would blast him four times while he slept. Young men beware, things ain't like they used to be and never will be again. "If you think I'm just a physical thing, wait til you see the spiritual power I bring," says Phavia.



NARRATOR


Brother McNair, may he rest in peace, was an NFL quarterback who made it to the Superbowl, but in the Superbowl of Pussy he was an abject failure: he could not quarterback his team of pussies. In the end, pussy triumphed a thousand to one, meeting him on the one yard line and knocking him into eternity. Poor soul, his patriarchal mentality of "I pay the cost to be the boss" didn't mean anything when pussy stood up to confront his proposition of male domination. Clearly, he thought, like men of patriarchal socialization think, that he could have all the pussy he wanted, without a consensus from the pussies. At least the Muslims get a consensus in their polygamous fantasies. I was lucky to escape with my head. One of my pussies said she thought about killing me in my sleep for abusing her. And my father-in-law said he would have killed me a long time ago if his granddaughters didn't love me so much. Pussy is a life and death matter, as we see with McNair and millions of other men who are meeting their fate these days in the pussy rebellion sweeping the planet.

Some time ago I went to speak at a court-mandated domestic violence session. I had come early to the men's session, so when I arrived a women's group was in session, so I sat in. I was amazed to hear the women speak of what they were doing to men these days: from violence to threats of violence over the phone. Brothers need to study the psychology of pussy.

As the great mythologist Joseph Campbell noted, women know they are women after the first cycle. When do men know? All primitive societies had manhood rites that taught about womanhood and manhood, but in modern society this training is absent, so men rely on the ignorance of their friends or some reactionary pimp psychology. So when do men get the lesson they are dealing with a spiritual being, a being who can actually take more pain than they--who can bleed for five days without dying while a man cannot bleed for five minutes! Brothers need to get a healing real quick, quicker than you can say Jackie Robinson!

POET

Golden Eggs For Ama

by Ptah Allah El

Poor sista! She bears the burden

Of sin of all nations.

Had bad relations with all the previous

Men in her life.



In her last relationship it wasn’t

So easy to say it is over.

Because even though she not that sleazy.

She still like to het her eggs done over easy.

She say, “Baby don’t tease me.”



On that night

She felt a special sexual spark.

But he hit it- And quit it.

Then left her in the dark.



Now she likes her eggs Sunny side up

And she prays for brighter days.

Her child she’s trying to raise.

But EBT only pays for the bare minimums.

She dreams of leaving the projects

And moving to condominiums



But Jack thought he was the Mack

Of the block.

So he climbed up her bean stock.

Since he heard she was a little loose,

And saw that she was thicker than the Goose that laid the Golden Egg.



The future family plans are foiled

Jack turned her out without a doubt

Now her eggs Are hard boiled,

Rotten, and spoiled.



Still she is the mother of civilization

And through her monthly menstruation,

She bleeds for the nation.



Washing away the sins of man and

When rain drops fall from her eyes

She cries tears for years.



That thang between her ears

Has been used abused and rambled.

Too many brothers like track

Stars ran through her.

Now the eggs between her legs

Are scrambled.



Even though her eggs might be scrambled

I still gamble with a sista.



And I know she a chicken head.

And everybody know, chicken heads don’t

Lay golden eggs but they sho’ make

Beautiful ghetto babies.



Ain’t it funny, how the Easter bunny

Try to hide the eggs. But chicken heads

Around my way have beautiful ghetto

Babies everyday.



Every month they become full of life.

Ready to be man’s wife.

Yet Madia say, a good man is hard to find.

But still the bride is ready to meet

The bridegroom in the mystic room of the mind.



The mother of civilization through

Her monthly menstruation

Bleeds for the nation washing away

The sins of man.



Releasing the cosmic egg,

Yes your PMS causes me stress.

But your body is the precious nest

That protects the egg of life.



Oh Ama, your wisdom gave birth

To everything of spiritual

And material worth.



And we thank you because

You are the mother of civilization,

And through your moon menstruation

You bleed for the nation.

Washing away the sins of man.

(used by permission, all rights reserved)




NARRATOR

Brothers, don’t ask for the pussy. Wait until she offers it to you, after all it is her pussy. Please, brothers, get an immediate understanding on this, no matter how much you pay on your pussy bill, it’s still her pussy. Your ignorance on this point has caused many of you to be locked down in prisons and jails, some for the rest of your lives, simply because you thought, in your deranged patriarchal mentality, that you owned your woman, that she was your chattel or personal property, causing you to kill your brother or friend. I had friends no longer on this earth because they got caught up in the pussy game.

I sincerely miss my friends and wish they were here to enjoy the fall of Western civilization with me—and the fall of Eastern civilization, for that matter—all the reactionary myths and rituals of the East must fall into the dustbin of history as well, the domestic violence, female genital circumcision, child marriage, honor killings, the whole range of reactionary, archaic, ignorant male mythology pervading the religions and culture of Africa and Asia.

And obviously, women need a healing as well. The woman who killed the quarterback thought she owned her man’s penis. Just as your pussy is not his, his dick is not yours, he can and will give it to whomever he likes. Get a healing on this point and you will advance in your spiritual maturation.

These days, you can’t get on your cell phone and call baby boy to tell him you’re gonna “key” his car because your girlfriend saw him riding down the street with baby mama.

Nobody owns nobody, no matter what the marriage papers say, no matter what shacking laws say. We are free spirits and only when we recognize this will some relationships become lasting, after all, what does flesh have to do with it? Flesh has nothing to do with love and I can use myself as an example—read my essay The Maid, the Ho, the Cook, in my book In the Crazy House Called America. I describe my love for a prostitute who sold her love up and down San Pablo Avenue, one of the longest streets in the Bay Area.But when she showed up at my door I was happy as a puppy dog, so don’t tell me about flesh. It wasn’t a physical matter, but a matter of the heart. I didn’t give a damn how many men she had slept with since the last time we were together, just come on in the house and give me my moment in the sun.

And what is life except a moment in time? That’s all we have with each other, a moment or two, so enjoy the one you’re with for the moment it is and have no regrets. Get rid of all that sexual greed and guilt from religious socialization that have you inside the box of sexual madness and depravity.

Ask any prostitute or sex worker, her pussy will be just as good tomorrow as it was yesterday. Come out of all that holy Joe bullshit that he violated my trust or she violated our vows. Grow up, what do vows have to do with the reality of life? Human beings are subject to do anything in the course of a day. A large percentage of black women admitted to having sex on the job with the boss in Jet Magazine some years ago. Now you know Jet is the Negro Bible, if it’s in Jet, it’s got to be true!

So love the one ya wit, give them all you can for the moment you are with them and have no regrets, since nothing lasts forever, know this and grow in your spiritual maturation. Let our boys become men with this knowledge and our girls become women. Don’t be a fifty or sixty year old man or woman still tripping about pussy and dick! Oh, he/she was unfaithful! He/she lied to me. He promised to be true.

How can you worry about her pussy when you can’t safeguard your dick? You want to stick your dick in every hole yet worry about what dick is going in her pussy. Get a life! What does it matter what dick is going in her pussy when you don’t even know who she is as a spiritual being and she doesn’t know you accept as a hard dick?

POET

You Don't Know Me

You don't know me

you had a chance to know me

before we made love

you had a chance to know my mind

understand my fears

learn about issues

help me heal some things

but you wanted to make love

so you don't know me

we made love

but you don't know me

don't have a clue

think I'm a good dick

or some good tight pussy

but you don't know me

and never will now

because you wanted to make love

you wanted to get a nut

we didn't even talk much

a little bit leading up to sex

I went along

I was horny too

but you don't know me

and I don't know you

now we never will

we blew it forever

because we made love

too fast too quick too soon

now you think you own me

I can't breathe

can't talk on the phone to friends

because we made love

because I gave you some dick

you gave me some pussy

now I'm no longer human

I'm your love slave

you're my slave

we're in love

but you don't know me

we gonna get married

but you don't know me

we're gonna have children

but you don't know me

you're gonna beat my ass

but you don't know me

you're going to jail

but you don't know me

we're getting a divorce

but you don't know me

now we're friends

"Just Friends" Charlie Parker tune

But you don't know me

and never will.




NARRATOR

Brothers, clean your hands before entering the pussy, cut your fingernails, remove the dirt. Otherwise, you will wonder why your pussy is not feeling good, but it will be because of your filthy hands causing infection, to say nothing of your filty dick that might have been in any hole it could find, even a hole in the ground. Pussy is delicate, treat it gently, not like you are entering a machine, even though some pussies like it rough and hard, so accommodate those pussies, even though bad results will appear sooner or later. A friend tells me her doctor friend told her we can't imagine some of the problems pussies come to her with as a result of how the men treat pussy, the objects they put in it, beyond dildos--sometimes fists and arms up to the elbow. But pussy is to be treated gently for it is a vital, the most vital organ of the female, well, maybe not equal to the heart, but life comes through pussy, so threat it right. Let it rest from time to time, something I had to learn in my cave man days. In general, the woman's body is precious and complicated. You cannot beat it down and think it is going to serve you forever because it is going to break down. If you beat on your car with a sledgehammer how would it look.
We do the same with our woman in general, beat her down then expect her to function at her best. Sometimes we beat her while pregnant with our child. What can come of a savage who does this--nothing of good, no good luck, as my mother told me time after time when she learned I was abusing my women (as if I owned them).


POET

Confession of an ex-wife beater

(A dance accompanies this poem)

I beat her because she loved me
I beat her
gouged my fingers in her eyes
stomped her on the floor
because she loved me
because she loved my dirty drawers
I beat her
put my hands on her throat
squeezed until her eyes
looked like marbles
I beat her because she loved me
because she gave me a child that looked just like me
because I held her hand as our seed came forth
I beat her because she wouldn't give me some pussy
I beat her
tore her panties off and took the pussy
then beat her then said to her
"I love you, baby, I love you
I love you so much
you're so precious to me
let me kiss you."
And she let me
then I beat her for letting
because I was drunk
too much rum
I beat her
too much weed
I beat her
too much coke
I beat her
My you are so precious to me
I beat her
My I love you so much baby
I beat her
because she was faithful
because she was patient
because she was
I beat her
while my child stood terrified
I beat her
kicked her
sat on her
punched her in the mouth
in my madness
because she said the wrong word
because she said nothing
because she said the right word
because she had a thought independent of mine
I beat her
knocked her to the floor
because she called the police
I beat her
how could she call the white man on me
as black as I was?
because she called her mama
I beat her
because she picked up the telephone
I beat her
because she left me and I found her hiding in the closet
I beat her
because I took her to New York and she didn't smile
I beat her
and when I got well
when I stopped beating her
she packed her bags packed her baby
and left forever.

Brothers in prison and jail behind women, either directly or indirectly (those who committed crimes to satisfy your pussy, i.e.,pay your pussy bill) need to think hard, now that you have a moment to think. There's a right way and wrong way to pay your pussy bill. Don't kill half the community to pay your bill. Figure out a way to hustle without killing people because that shit comes back on you. All money ain't good money. Money with blood ain't no good--it will never bring peace and happiness. Have you seen any movie where the gangsters and murderers went on to live a happy life?

(Lights up on woman speaking)

AMIDA

“OH, HELL NAW (Standing straight up and starts walking and talking), you don’t never get used to it. (Pause) How are you going to get used to something that goes against nature? Ain’t nobody and nothin’ supposed to be locked up for years (Pause), decades at a time. Even plants lose all their color and change the way they look after bein’ under rock for some time…but they don’t stop growing....’cause it’s against nature. (To herself) they got nerve to call it The Department of Rehabilitation, a correctional facility. I’d like to know just who do they think they correcting, ‘cause it ain’t stopped nobody from going to jail.
(Personalizing tone) I’ve been going to prison all my life and never been behind bars. All the men I know end up going at one time or another…even I went to jail on my birthday to visit some dude. My Father…. my Brothers…my Husbands….almost my boyfriends. In fact I don’t think I know one male family member that hasn’t seen a jail at one time or another. All of our conversation eventually relates to when so and so got out or when so and so went to jail. When they do time (Pause) I do time. It’s starts to seem routine but NEVER normal.

(She turns and picks a man out of the audience and focuses on him)

I cannot believe I’m sittin’ here in the penetentary during visiting hours just so I can talk to you. No wait a minute, let me tell you about my day. I first had to get up at 3:30 in the morning, take the girls over to Becky’s place, give her some money I don’t have, then catch a bus downtown to wait for another bus to bring me up here. I then have to wait in the pre-screening room to find out if they have enough space for everyone and if they don’t I have to go home and try it again. Then I make to the waiting room and guard tries to push up on me. (catching her breath before kicking off into high gear)
Do you know what it’s like for a single female trying to make it out here with two kids, pay the rent, get them to school, feed them and myself with no job? And you ask me what’s wrong? Now I realize that it might be a little stressful for you with some of these nuts you are in here with, but they sure don’t look any different to me from the fools you used to hang out with on the corner…. So you otta’ feel right at home…. watching TV all day, having room service meals and sleeping all you want…. (frustrated) “Fuck You"

(from The Spot by Geoffrey Grier, used by permission, all rights reserved by G. Grier)

(Show video clip of Michael Jackson's They Don't Really Care About Us)


NARRATOR


Don't stalk your pussy from the prison house. Got your boys following your pussy around town to make sure it doesn't find a dick. It's gonna find something, if only another pussy since you played yourself out of pocket, thinking out of your dick head. Now your girl's girl got your pussy. How you like that Mister Big Time?

Life is a thinking man's game, so think before you act. There are very few things in life really important and pussy ain't one of them. Can you take pussy to the bank? Even so-called pimps know pussy comes and goes, rarely does pussy stay forever, so why you killing over pussy that was going to leave anyway--it was just a matter of time, dummy. Ask Fillmore Slim how many of his ho's stayed forever? Ask him where are all those ho's he had, where did they go--they went to pussyland where all pussies go. So appreciate the pussy while you got it, if only for a moment. Like Fillmore says, if you treat pussy right, it might come back, but if you treat it wrong, it will be long gone.

(Transition music, song and/or dance here)



Lick the pussy lightly, like a feather in the wind. Don't devour it like a Mike Tyson cannibal, "...so greedy for my lady, I turn her womb into a tomb.... Be cool, fool, go away and pray and pray and pray." Yes, pray on the pussy, bless it with kindness until the lips open and spread wide, stroke it til juices flow like Niagara Falls washing your face with love. Oh, the juice of love in the night or early morn.

(Need dance for this poem)

POET

Monday

Monday love ain't Sunday love
before work love
don't want to go to work love
before morning shower/coffee love
entangle
caress
tongue in mouth
down her valley of nile
safari
for the wild animal in her
ride each other till
earth quake comes
aftershocks
love talk
coffee
shower when she gets home
smell like each other
pussy in moustache
smell my underarms
sweet love funk
may not shower today
wear her all day
imagine her with me on me under me
me in her mouth
stroking me to perfection
relaxation
what is heaven about?
it's Monday
boss waiting
let the sucker wait
I'll be in late
boss man.

NARRATOR

(Dance here)

When joy comes do not spoil the hour with negative ideas, but open the heart of love as the bird cage opens for the bird to take flight only to return when it wills. There is no compulsion in love, for love is not to be forced but happens when it happens, so let it happen on its time not yours, for what do you know of love except when it speaks and you are silent, only then you gain understanding and wisdom. Be silent is the best mode, not the lips that chatter when silence is glory. In silence all things come to you for pleasure, because you are deserving and so the pussy runs over with the juice of love. And you have not touched it with tongue or finger or penis, but the silence of your mind is read by the pussy and so it came running as a lover in search of lost love, that eternal love beyond pussy and dick and silly gender notions of the infantile ones who dwell on the animal plane.

Imagine, the pussy is far away yet so near you smell it, feel it, stroke it until it comes, yet it is not there, only a thought, a memory of time past when pussy was young and fresh and wild, and you ran to it and it embraced you on the beach, in the wind and sun. There was no shame, no guilt, no greed, just innocence of time and place, not even knowing you were in paradise, heaven. It was the best of times and they did not end but reappear even now in the fourth quarter of your life. There is joy and joy knows you and welcomes you home with open arms and lips. Be gentle, ask for nothing because all is yours. No one can have what is yours, for the door only opens for you and you alone. It is no effort on your part, it is the voice of the wind, the falling leaves say it is yours for your labor under the sun.



(Notes: Here we can do something from One Day in the Life and/or show video of 2Pacs Dear Mama--maybe show this at the end since it ends with reference to Dear Mama.)


Pussy ruled the world until along came Crack. Crack diminished the respect and value of pussy forever. It did not destroy the power of pussy but it wounded it forever. After Crack, pussy will never be the same. Its value became so low on the stock market, one could hardly find it, for it dropped worse than in the Great Depression and in this Second Depression pussy is fighting for its life, especially with young brothers thinking they can pimp pussy because the dope game has played out. But these days pussy can take your life, with one drop a man can die from the myriad STDs, not to mention AIDS. Yes, pussy has gone from the giver of life to the taker of life, from the power of God to the power of the devil. Oh, will the glory days of pussy ever come again. The young brothers in the barber shop said to me, "OG, when you were young and caught something from a girl, you only got a drip--today, when we catch something we die!" The times, they are a changing and so has pussy.

Brothers coming home from prison are infecting their women from the joy of prison life. Some women are infertile as a result of their man's homosexual behavior in prison that he denies until it is too late: his poor, innocent woman suffers a death dealing blow because of his dishonesty and debauchery. See Ayodele's great play Death by Twilight. The woman has so much faith in her man she never admits he is the cause of her dying from AIDS.

And then older women go to bars and nightclubs for that one night stand and never recover from their evening with undercover brother who looked like a man but was all bitch inside, even beyond bitch because he was a lier and deceiver, a wicked devil in the night, who stole the woman's heart, body and soul.

Michael said Remember the Time! Remember the time when pussy was golden and pure, pasteurized and homogenized! Today pussy is filthy as the harlot's, or maybe hers is cleaner than the square girls because the harlot knows how to clean hers, the square girl knows nothing because mama taught her nothing because mama didn't know being the Crack ho she was. But I agree with Tupac, "You might be a Crack fiend, Mama, but you still a black queen, Mama!"

(Could use video of 2Pac reciting this classic)

Dear Mama by 2Pac
You are appreciated

[Verse One: 2Pac]

When I was young me and my mama had beef
Seventeen years old kicked out on the streets
Though back at the time, I never thought I'd see her face
Ain't a woman alive that could take my mama's place
Suspended from school; and scared to go home, I was a fool
with the big boys, breakin all the rules
I shed tears with my baby sister
Over the years we was poorer than the other little kids
And even though we had different daddy's, the same drama
When things went wrong we'd blame mama
I reminice on the stress I caused, it was hell
Huggin on my mama from a jail cell
And who'd think in elementary?
Heeey! I see the penitentiary, one day
And runnin from the police, that's right
Mama catch me, put a whoopin to my backside
And even as a crack fiend, mama
You always was a black queen, mama
I finally understand
for a woman it ain't easy tryin to raise a man
You always was committed
A poor single mother on welfare, tell me how ya did it
There's no way I can pay you back
But the plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated

[Chorus: Reggie Green & "Sweet Franklin" w/ 2Pac]

Lady...
Don't cha know we love ya? Sweet lady
Dear mama
Place no one above ya, sweet lady
You are appreciated
Don't cha know we love ya?

[second and third chorus, "And dear mama" instead of "Dear mama"]

[Verse Two: 2Pac]

Now ain't nobody tell us it was fair
No love from my daddy cause the coward wasn't there
He passed away and I didn't cry, cause my anger
wouldn't let me feel for a stranger
They say I'm wrong and I'm heartless, but all along
I was lookin for a father he was gone
I hung around with the Thugs, and even though they sold drugs
They showed a young brother love
I moved out and started really hangin
I needed money of my own so I started slangin
I ain't guilty cause, even though I sell rocks
It feels good puttin money in your mailbox
I love payin rent when the rent's due
I hope ya got the diamond necklace that I sent to you
Cause when I was low you was there for me
And never left me alone because you cared for me
And I could see you comin home after work late
You're in the kitchen tryin to fix us a hot plate
Ya just workin with the scraps you was given
And mama made miracles every Thanksgivin
But now the road got rough, you're alone
You're tryin to raise two bad kids on your own
And there's no way I can pay you back
But my plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: 2Pac]

Pour out some liquor and I reminsce, cause through the drama
I can always depend on my mama
And when it seems that I'm hopeless
You say the words that can get me back in focus
When I was sick as a little kid
To keep me happy there's no limit to the things you did
And all my childhood memories
Are full of all the sweet things you did for me
And even though I act craaazy
I gotta thank the Lord that you made me
There are no words that can express how I feel
You never kept a secret, always stayed real
And I appreciate, how you raised me
And all the extra love that you gave me
I wish I could take the pain away
If you can make it through the night there's a brighter day
Everything will be alright if ya hold on
It's a struggle everyday, gotta roll on
And there's no way I can pay you back
But my plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated

[Chorus]

Sweet lady
And dear mama

Dear mama
Lady [3X]





POET

Fetus

Mama please don't kill me
don't you see I got my daddy's head hands feet
mama please don't kill me
don't flush me down the toilet
I might be a prophet
come to save the world
mama
please
don't
kill
me.

NARRATOR

We support a woman's right to control her pussy and the fruit thereof. At the same time we condemn men who deposit their semen in the pussy of a murderer, for we agree with Mother Theresa who said, "Abortion is the first murder, after which all other murder is possible." And prophet Muhammad said, "Do not kill your children for fear of poverty." Abortion would not be possible if men did not have sex with women they know favor abortion, so I put the onus on men, not women. Men should ask the woman if she gets pregnant will she kill the unborn child? If she says yes, he should depart from her in haste, unless he favors murder as well. Why are you jumping in a woman's pussy you know is a killer? Now if you want her to kill your seed, that is another matter--the matter is why? What if your parents had aborted you?

What is wrong with putting an unwanted child up for adoption, since there are many women who cannot have children? There are couples who would love and cherish that unwanted child, so why is there a need to kill it? And even though a woman's body is her business, it seems to me the man should be informed--supposedly, in the woman's mind, it's none of his business. This is why I say the man was wrong to enter her pussy in adverse circumstances.

Even in the case of rape, why not put the child up for adoption? If the life of the mother is in danger, this is another matter--abortion must be considered.

We are absolutely opposed to the right wing Christian anti-abortion hypocrites who favor murder to stop murder, even to the point of assassinating doctors. Furthermore, these right wing Christians--where in the Bible does Jesus advocate murder?--only want to delay the death of the child, allowing it to grow up so it can fight and die in imperialist wars across the planet. So these Christians are no different from the pro-abortion women, it is only a difference of time, the objective is the same. Does it matter if the child is killed in the womb or 18 years later in wars for the expansion of capitalism and slavery?

If the woman (and man) is too poor to feed the child, put it up for adoption. A dear friend of mine adopted a child from Jamaica whose family could not afford to feed. She brought the child back to America and raised him like a prince. She paid for him to received manhood training at the African Village in South Carolina. She adopted and raised four other Crack babies, giving them a wonderful life, even though they yet appreciate it--like most children (even the "normal ones")--they are ungrateful.
Often times economics is not the problem but education and psychology or the mental state of the parents, especially the woman--although the young man or father is in the same situation, ignorant and often mentally ill. The result is child abuse. Too many young mothers are ignorant of how to feed a child, even hold a child. I know young mothers who habitually feed their child and themselves at McDonalds--breakfast, lunch and dinner. Many young ladies were drug addicted when they got pregnant, thus unable to breast feed their child. These mothers need community support. We see these babies with babies on the streets of Oakland. We see their stress, how they curse the children, calling them motherfuckers and sons of bitches. They need community support because often grandmother (thirty, forty or fifty years old) says she's "too old" to be a grandmother. One grandmother whose son has two children, says she wants her son to stay home with her rather than live with his baby moma who's struggling for dear life with two children at 26 years old. This poor mother grew up in Berkeley but had never been to San Francisco. She is no different than young people in Newark, New Jersey who've never been to New York.


POET

Strawberry Gave birth to Tangerine

by Ptah Allah El

My first girlfriend, Tangerine

Used to sing and play lead tambourine

For the church choir.

But as her little body got flyer,

Flyer, and flyer, lust and desire

Invaded her innocence.

When the preacher proclaimed

She was the forbidden fruit

And he began to pick and peel,

To taste and feel the sweet nectar

Of Tangerine’s sex appeal.

Tangerine Tangerine. It was so obscene.

Her body say 21, her brain say 12-teen

Poor Tangerine Tangerine she was ripe

On one side, on the other side green.

Still he squeezed and pleased

Until he seized her mind and turned

Tangerine into a sex fiend.

His original sin made Tangerine comprehend

That her strength and beauty

Was the weakness of men.

On the day she ran away, she asked herself

A fundamental question.

What is the difference between

Pimps and preachers?

She answered:

The preacher has more whores

And she got flyer, flyer, and flyer.

But went lower, lower and lower

Because nobody bothered to show her,

What it mean? To be a Yong Black Queen.

Now she is out on a limb. Trying to find her roots.

Her role models are bitches and prostitutes.

Tangerine Tangerine stepped on the scene,

But didn’t realize it was going down like a

Submarine.

And she went lower, lower and lower.

Nobody bother to show her.

She is out on a limb.

She wants to find her roots.

Yet her role models are all rotten fruits.

Substitutes for the queen Tangerine longs to be.

She need MGT and GCC.

She got flyer, flyer, and flyer

And went lower, lower , and lower.

Until she went under. Still she wonder.

What it mean?

To be a strong black queen.

She is going lower, lower, and lower.

Lower, lower, and lower.

Nobody bother to show her.

Tangerine Tangerine. It was so obscene.

Her body say 21, her brain say 12-teen

If you happen to see Tangerine

On the scene. Please remind her she is

A Young Black Queen!
(used by permission, all rights reserved)


NARRATOR



Babies with babies is not helpful to our community progress. Often the mother, father and children are doomed to poverty unless they are determined to rise up in spite of circumstances. And community support is greatly needed. Teach the young people manhood and womanhood rites or how to restrain themselves until they mature. At eighteen when I fathered my first child, I was a baby with a baby, and soon followed another child before I was twenty. I am happy for the children, but they could have been delayed until I finished my education. I am happy my children restrained themselves sexually until they completed their education. Thank God they had more discipline than I. I do know that one of my sons (now deceased, RIP) impregnated an Asian girl while in college. He asked me what to do and I told him not to abort, but he did so anyway because he said the girl could not return to Japan with a black child. As I've written elsewhere, she could have left the little Tiger Woods here and took her funky ass back to Japan.


POET

What Is Love?

What is love?
only kisses hugs
what is love
only meetings of the minds
what about times
when minds do not meet
is love not present in the air
in the blood of loving souls
too ignorant to know the test of love
the many ways it strives to be and not be yet is always and forever
not always tender
sometimes rough and sharp
like a razor cutting to the heart
love is pain we take to grow
be strong again
with tears in the night
alone again
we find ourselves wondering
if love was even real
yet it was if we see if we look
beyond romantic notions
of everything is cool always with love
but we know the blues of love
when we miss the words from lips
so tender in truth
but we miss them in haste
to be the authority on love
yet love has been around since eternity
and will stay when lovers have gone away
it will stay
in spite of all the tear the fights the verbal bouts
the put outs and come backs
and gimme my keys
and why don't you call
and don't you still care
and why did you go
and do you really lover her or really love him
after all the time we shared
how could you do this to me
after all I did for you in the night
what is love
sometimes we must enjoy the hurt the pain
only to grow be wise again
this time with God in the center of things
but try
for love is precious
and time is short
and life must be lived with joy
somehow through it all
let joy arise and take control
of love.

(Part One ends with song/dance of Stevie Wonder's Ribbon in the Sky. Part Two
opens with actors in white face reciting I Love Everything About You But You and I Love Everything About Me But Me by Paradise. Try reading these two poems silmultaneously and rapidly like an explosion of the mind with truth as we enter phase two of the ritual which is the peer group healing session that allows the people to speak their minds in a safe place. This might be followed by Ptah Allah El's Spare Some Change and Marvin X's Can You Change, then the peer group to recover from the addiction to white supremacy (mythology) begins with the focus on sexuality but within the framework of the 13 Steps to Recover. This ritual may take place over several days in a retreat situation.

I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, BUT YOU!

They want the black spirit
They want the black mind
They want the black soul
They want the black behind

They want the black muscle
They want the black heart
They want the black music
They want the black art

They want the black rhythm
They want the black hips
They want the black power
They want the black lips

They want the black style
They want the black talk
They want the black skill
They want the black walk

They want the black rod
They want the black heat
The want the black coffee
They want the black meat

They want the black land
They want the black gold
They want the black diamonds
They want the black coal

They want the black oil
They want the black race
They want the black earth
They want the black space

They want the black dollars
They want the black gods
They want the black everything...but me and you
Now that's odd!
It's like they're trying to say what?

I love everything about you, but you!

They want the black neighborhood
but not the black neighbor!?!

I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, BUT YOU!

(c) Copyright by Paradise, 1995
"I Loved Everything About Me, But Me!",

by Paradise

I got the white spirit
I got the white dreams
I got the white hopes
I got the white schemes
I got the white grades
I got the white college
I got the white degree
I got the white knowledge
I got the white job
I got the white bread
I got the white meat
I got the white spread
I got the white car
I got the white house
I got the white neighbors
I got the white spouse
I got the white religion
I got the white the white hair
I got the white diction
I got the white flair
I got the white credit card
I got the white coke
I got the white membership
I got the white smokes
I got the white sugar
I got the white salt
I got the white diet
I got the white gout
I got the white doctor
I got the white disease
I got the white hospitals
I got the white surgeries
I got the white bill
I got the white stroke
I got the white pill
I got the white croak
I got the white funeral
Where somebody told a white racist joke

I had the white everything
But I still wasn't happy
Cuz I loved everything about me
But me!?!!!


CHANGE

BY Ptah Allah El



Excuse me.

I don’t mean to disturb you

but can you spare some change?



Because the ghetto is getting more

strange and deranged

So can you please spare some change?

Because ghetto youth

Need better education

Knowledge of selfology elevation

It’s a strange situation.

How they can’t read, but they

Know the words to every song

That comes on the radio station.

And they idolize commercial gangster

MC.’s who change their clothes every two seconds

On these music videos.

But what they really need

To changes is their flows.

Because every time he flows his nose grows, like

Pinocchio’s.

And he look at me strange

When I ask him for some change.

And I ain’t accepting no wooden nickels,

So I can’t accept no wooden niggas

Yet these niggas with big figgas

Spend their money on SUV’s

Sittin’ on dubs and spinners

With Play Station, DVD’s and five TV’s.

Amps speakers and a 24 CD disc changer,

But when he sees his gangsta homie

Walking down the street

He passes him by like a stranger.

He’s riding, he’s riding, he’s high siding.

But danger’s on the way

Said he’s riding, he’s riding, he’s high siding

But danger’s on the way

Because he done turned down the wrong street,

Where them car jackers stay.

Pow! (Gunshot!) Couldn’t get no change that day.

But some people change sex partners

To get their kicks quicker than ho’s turn

Tricks with strange Toms and Dicks.

I don’t mean to be rude but

All original people are being subdued

Getting fucked and screwed by

The devils six six sick.

Fascist politics tricks that’s got

I need a remote control to change

The channel, because in the new millennium Hommies are still gang banging

Over blue and red flannel.

I ain’t trying to start no scandal.

Don’t think that I’m strange

This is the way I panhandle when I’m

Begging for change.

Because the ghetto is becoming

More strange and deranged

That’s why it is time to change the times.

Time to change our minds, because our thoughts

Are only as big as our minds

And if all we want out of life

Is nickels and dimes that’s all

We gone have as a people, is crumbs

In these ghetto slums.

But I hope one day

Change’s change comes.

Meanwhile I’ll be on the corner

Hanging with the bums

Begging my people for change.

Excuse me … can I get some change?



used by permission, all rights reserved)







Can You Change

by Marvin X

Can you change your wicked ways
your dirty pants
can you change America
put down your warrior ways
wash your bloody hands
can you change Palestine
clean up corruption
share power
can you change Mr. Jew
give up ancient myths rituals
fairy tales nursery rhymes
can you change Mr. Jew
exhausting tired world
stressing us out with endless delusions
choseness
give peace a chance
peace for land peace for security peace for justice
can you change Africa
full of diamonds gold uranium
can you change Africa
poverty ignorance disease greed lust
presidents for life
let God again own the land
let the people own the oil diamonds gold precious metals
can you change Africa
be your glorious self divine self royal self
can you change Africa
stop hacking arms legs clitoris
domestic violence child marriage
tribalism neo-colonialism

can you change Latin America
stop peasants growing coca for gringos
flooding streets of America
keep workers home
give a living wage
no more one dollar daily
from can't see to can't see
can you change Latin America

can you change Iraq
run Americans out
take oil build new society
chase uncle abdullah down the street
ancient land of Babylon
stand again Iraq
let the jihadists have their run
like Russians in Afghanistan
run Americans into the sands
share power with Shiites
long suffering Kurds
give Kurds their nation
let Sunnis know justice
let peace come after Bush I and Bush II
bathe in Tigress Euphrates
can you change Iraq

Can you change India and China
put down warloards Afghanistan Pakistan
Pakistan India put down nukes

Can you change Asia
majority of the new world so rule
take power China India
be better than the tired greedy West
where sun has set and night is white
change Asia

Can you change Russia
land of Pushkin the African
change the czar Putin
change the blood of Stalin
send Putin to Siberia or Chechnya
make him a Muslim
can you change Russia

Can you change Europe
with union euros
can you be a better people
no more white supremacy
justice to your colonial children in ghettoes
ancestors you raped robbed bled in native lands
making you rich filthy
can you change Europe
can you change
all of you
who hear me crying in the night
can you change
please change
be your better self
for your children with bright eyes
who hunger for knowledge truth
change
for the billions who love peace
who love to love
please change
for your sons and daughters
and their sons and daughters
please change.