Yuki Jackson     Tampa             (Dustin Brookshire)
Katara  (for real)                     


I am the One 
who brought the great flood 
of warriors onto your shore–
roaring, majestic life from the Motherland, 
hear that rumble–
our gale force winds have broke the chains, 
see it all come rushing as change–
so fast best believe that’s whiplash 
on behalf of the ancestors–
in fact we are them–

you see the energy stored 
from all the injustice we bore 
only passed on–
isn’t bending blood 
just like bending water?
the avatar of God, call me Katara

truth is, we began at the bottom–
in that space so dark and deep, 
we couldn’t be seen–
the only light is produced from our own heads, 
projected in third eye position–

it is here where pressure is most profound, 
where we make our way through the rhythm of sound, 
manifesting waves from our vibration–
this is what it means to sea deeply, 
that bass throbbing as pulse that begins tsunami–
born from the underground, 
that place closest to the core, 
creating waves as crescendo, 
following lines that lead us to the peak 
above that mountain in the distance–

you know energy travels as spirals, 
winding up like a cork to pop the top off this bottle, 
shaken up, this blood we drink to form our sanctity–
isn’t it once there was no word for the color blue, 
so we called the sea “blood”–
like the stream we laid the beat upon, 
with enough room to lay our verses 
and move the masses 
even before we perform–

this means the mass we gained 
has been invisible–
but it's been stacking up, 
all this pressure, 
all this attempt to hold us down 
has only made us stronger–

no we are not woke, 
we are awake, 
as in a wake, 
as in those ocean waves created 
when a vessel moves through a medium, 
as in the medium cannot be compressed, 
as in this wake cannot be suppressed, 
as in the wake when we gather 
to pay respects to the dead with their body present–
I am that body who gave all this labor–
“what life through yonder water breaks?” 

this is the real Genesis, 
meaning these are the generations, 
a generator cord pumping through these children, 
aka warriors, 
best believe these MC’s came out by the dozen–
you can’t fade the mother of all creation, 
the original, the source, 
follow me and you’ll find your birth–
to return to that side we lost, 
making us complete 
in this narrative of human history– 

we are the evolution, 
the new branch in the story–
but in order to understand life, 
you must reckon with your birth–

even Hokusai couldn’t imagine 
what was coming–

born as arsenal to seal our fate, 
best believe I came to slay–
and here I will deliver the arc–
not as in a ship to escape, 
as in we ARE the great flood–
like the arc in my arm raised 
as they bow to my power–

I am the Great Wave Off Kanagawa, 
I’m atomic, I’m nuclear–
and now we’re in the delivery room–
you wanna know how the universe began? 
One word: BOOM


Originally published in Creative Loafing Tampa Bay.