I'm sitting at the bottom lookin up. Nothing is holding me down but my own weight, but yet I feel as if I have a boulder on my chest. I'm surronded by treasures and my foundation is built upon the thirst of others. I'm still not satsified. I want more. But what I want doesn't cost a thing. Freedom is the most expensive neccessity in life. It seems to cost more than I can afford. I'm at the bottom still looking up. I reach for the skies above me for answers to my questions, but no response. I keep reaching until my hands are dreanched in blood and cut up. I'm punching thru a concrete sky. Concrete so hard that a jackhammer couldn't even penetrate. But yet I see others with no good intentions running thru the wall as if it was water. What makes their struggle so much more different than mines? Is it that they do not question the things they cannot see? I do. Am I the controller of my destiny? I'm still sitting at the bottom looking up. I see happiness and pleasure, laughter and joy, but I do not feel it. I want to laugh. I want to feel complete joy, But I do not. My life isn't bad, but something is missing....I keep looking up and want to run with the others, and what's funny about that is the others are looking down wanting to sit besides me. Would they want to know what I am thinking? I think not. I wouldn't want to put anybody thru that. I wear a mask that is so pure, filled with pure intentions. The mask brings so much happiness to others. When I go to the mirror to try and see what they see, the mask shatters in a million unfixable pieces. When I turn around to face another, it is back bringing harmony. My reflection does not like me. My reflection abuses me everyday and I hurt. Who can fix my mask?

I AM PROUD TO BE A WOMAN I AM THE CREATOR I HOLD THE SEED THAT WILL FORM INTO A NATION OF MILLIONS OF MEN MY FLOWER RELEASES POLLEN THAT FRAGRANCES THE WORLD THE INTELLIGENT SEEK ME THE IGNORANT ABUSE ME YOU CANNOT PLUCK THE PEDALS OF MY FLOWER IF YOU DO, I BECOME A ROSE WITH THORNS WHEN YOU TOUCH ME AGAIN I WILL MAKE YOU BLEED I HOLD THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD IN THE CREASE OF MY BACK I POSSESS THE POWER TO BUILD IN MY WOMB DONT QUESTION THE ABILITIES OF A WOMAN FOR THERE ARE NO ANSWERS NO ANSWERS BECAUSE THERE SHOULD BE NO QUESTIONS I BLEED FOR DAYS AND SURVIVE I CARRY CREATION IN MY WOMB FOR NINE MONTHS AND STILL AFTER, CARRY MY CHILDREN UNTIL MY DEATH I AM LOOKED UPON AS IF I WERE NOTHING THEY DO NOT REALIZE THAT I AM EVERYTHING THE ALPHA, THE OMEGA I AM A COMPLETE CIPHER OF KNOWLEDGE, WISDOM AND UNDERSTANDING I AM HISTORY A STRONG WOMAN WHO FREED MY PEOPLE FROM SLAVERY A STRONG WOMAN WHO SAID I WILL NOT MOVE A STRONG WOMAN WHO SAID IF A MAN CAN DO IT, THEN SO CAN I I AM MORE THAN JUST BARE FOOT AND PREGNANT I AM A CORPORATION THERE IS NO STOPPING ME I HAVE NO BOUNDARIES AND I MOVE STRATEGICALLY I AM THE ONE WHO CAN BUILD A NATION OR DESTROY A CIVILIZATION I AM THE AUTHOR OF MANY LIVES THE MOVEMENT OF MY BODY STREAMS NATURALLY I MOVE WITH ELEGANCE ACROSS THE LANDS I AM WOMAN AND I AM PROUD

I call this poem "If I call you my..." If I call you my friend...then I don't know what to say. You can be loyal or you can be around me for the wrong reasons. It goes either way with a friend. If I call you my homegirl...then I know I can hit the clubs with you, hit the tree with you, hit the bottle with you, freestyle and write music with you and have a dope ass time! If I call you my bitch...then it's ride or die with us. You gonna beat a chic ass and I'm gonna beat a chic ass! We're gonna beat up baby daddys, boyfriends and home wreckers! If I call you my fam...then I know that all of the above is in you. I can count on you most of the time. I might have to call you once or twice to remind you. If I call you my muf**kin peoples...when I'm tall, you're tall. If I begin to fall, you make sure that I don't. And if the fall is unbreakable, you keep my memory alive. You complete my sentences sometimes and know what I'm feeling without having to tell you. We have the same taste in alot of things. So much in common, but yet, so different. My peoples love Hip Hop and Culture! My peoples strive to make a difference in other peoples lives. Me and my muf**kin peoples bust shots to celebrate. I know your kids and you know mines. I've eated your home cooked meals and you've eaten mines. You call my moms...mom. You've had Bacardi with my moms. You've listened to my music and like listening to my music when I'm not around. You check on me to see If I'm good. You've paid one of my bills, and I've paid one of yours. You've always been there for me. I call you my muf**kin peoples because you are all of the above but not one. { written by...MECCA 07/2007 }

What is SEX? It is looked upon as an emotional and physical contact between two or more people. Let me explain my SEX to you. SEX to me is Searching Everything Unknown. Breathe your knowledge into my mouth and let the wisdom enter me with passion and gently caress my brain with information that I never knew. Let the words massage my mind and bring me to scream in ectasy. It feels so good to uncover it and see the message so clear. I will even except the knowledge that is not so pleasant to know. It bangs my intelligence until I can't take it no more and want to cry. It keeps pounding me and pounding me until I drop a tear. Unpleasant knowledge from the history of my ancestors. I keep going and searching like a fiend and until all of my hair follicles have been ripped from my scalp. Uncovering the joys of the past and the schemes of the future. I ask for more. Please dont stop giving it to me now. Stay the night with me and keep applying your energy into me. Keep importing your math, alphas and lessons into the deepest part of my body, which is my mind. Impregnate me your seed of knoweldge. MMMMM...I've never felt so much pleasure.................. ~by MECCA 2007

MY MAN If you want to holla at me about what my man doesn't do, then you must holla at me about what he does do and has done. Don't tell me about how he doesn't take care of his kids. Tell me about how he owns his own corporations in order to show his kids how to provide for theirselves since you discriminate. Don't tell me that all he does is sell drugs. Explain to me how the drugs got here in the first place and the whole science behind that secret masterplan that "the man" made in order to destroy my man. Don't tell me how my man only lives in the projects and ghettos. Tell me the reason that any person should live in those conditions when there is plenty of money in this country, but not enough opportunity. And while you're tyring to explain that, tell me what's the deal with all of the financing that is given to any man so he can put liquor stores and greasy ass restaraunts on the corners of each project and ghetto. But I must thank you....that food is good and from the hood. Don't tell me how my man wear's extra baggy pants. Tell me why you make pants too small for him to fit. Is it because you want to crush is manhood so he can't reproduce? Hmmm............. Don't tell me how he treats me bad. Tell me what caused you to whip me if I wasn't willing to be your sex slave. Don't call my man a minority, when my man has a population way greater than yours and that population is gloal. Amerikkka is a minority to the rest of the world. Don't call my man stupid! Don't you know that without him, you wouldn't exist? You wouldn't br credited with your stolen inventions. You wouldn't even know how to be civilized. You are the coward behind the desk. You are the real criminal. You are a savage in the pursuit of power. You are a barbarian. You are a liar. You are a murderer. My man is King. He is righteous. He is beautiful. He is my creator. He is your creator. He is science. He is an obvious example of the ability of upliftment. He is a warrior. He is an inventor. He is my man and your Father. Open your eyes.