Phora -Hope Lyrics -Powerful

The post before this one was also by Phora. I listened to quite a few songs he has recorded. His music cuts like a knife. Young people live in a world that my generation didn’t experience. Sure, every generation has had different issues to deal with, but we (the baby boomers) weren’t handed a world with little hope, dangerous food to eat where corporations like Monsanto had the right to destroy our food by putting chemicals in our food and tell us we were too stupid and confused to read a label, and corporations like Nestles who says people don’t have a right to water, and during a drought they have the right to steal it and sell it back to us for profit – and get away with it. All of these things create a world where lyrics like this are needed. Wake the fuck up.

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We didn’t used to live in a world where we thought we needed a gun to protect ourselves from our neighbors in the grocery Store, until the NRA said we needed to. We also didn’t need to live in poverty unless we chose to live that way. Today, unless you are born into a family with enough wealth to assure you an educated life that didn’t take the rest of your life to pay off, the only hope you had was love, which is followed by extreme hardship to have a life together that you want to keep on living.

Today, if you are black, the chances of being born into a world of possible education and today’s version of middle class – yesterday’s version of poor – living week to week – is slim. Music, sports and prison are the basic options. Since prison takes 1/3 of black men, that statement is very real. What are the other options except being poor.

Phora’s music makes me feel such sadness. There is such pain. It makes me want to put his head on my shoulder and lie to him like mothers do and tell him everything will be okay. He learned money does not buy happiness. He knows there is such a thing called happiness but it has eluded him. No one taught him what it was and how to get it. From his lyrics it seems he thinks that it is something outside himself that will bring him happiness – in this case, the love of a woman. But that love doesn’t last when you think it is two halves that make a whole. If another person completes you, eventually the cookie crumbles from stress.

Probably because of my generation, the baby boomers, my favorite music is from the 70’s and early 80’s. Rap was born when my children entered their teens in the 90’s, along with size 42 pants. It was too violent and crude. There wasn’t much music being played by musicians who spent years honing their craft. It was music meant to shock and offend. Over those years it has gradually changed. When you play this Youtube video take the time to listen to more of his music.

http://facebook.com/jamielifeinprison . . .Blog posts and news about injustice in the world

Sonni’s Pinterest boards

Second of Clarity, Lifetime of Reality

I found this blog today @Duc Nguyen WordsOnEmptyEars  and also this song. The poetry is good and the song will rip your heart out. The artist – Phora and the song – Simmer – is not an inmate but I feel his life has been a prison.

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Many people don’t understand the life of someone who want born into the average life of being raised in a “normal” family atmosphere with advantages of guidance and love. I have no idea -yet- who this artist is, but no one could write about a life like that if they hasn’t experienced it.

With whatever time I have left on this earth I want to spend it making a difference in lives that come across mine. My last post was on hate and hate filled people. That is an ugly way to live that comes back at you. I want something different coming back to me and it comes from how you treat others. Please, you should really listen to this and pass this post and music on.

http://facebook.com/jamielifeinprison . . .Blog posts and news about injustice in the world

Sonni’s Pinterest boards

Words on Empty Ears

She shows me all of these songs.
I like every single thing about them.
The melody and the lyrics say everything about me.
And I’m wondering how these sad words always get to me.
Simply forgetting how pretend I could be.
Being real, embracing the things I know how to be.
Wearing all of my scars as if they are merely my accessories.
I did always liked how scarred up I have always been.

© Duc Nguyen WordsOnEmptyEars, 2016

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