Monthly Archives: January 2013

Get Up

Every time I fall down, I get up.
I get up for every nappy haired knock kneed boy who was called a nigger.
I get up for every little kid that came from a broken home.
I get up for every kid that was taught to get low at the sound of gunfire.
I get up for every student that’s had a teacher who didn’t believe in them.
I get up for every brother who’s been attacked, cuffed, pushed down on the street, and thrown in the back of a police car for not having a California license plate.
I get up for every human being who’s been told that they ain’t shit, will never be shit, and can’t do shit about it.
I get up for every person who’s been told they’re going to hell for not going to church.
I get up, for every person who’s ever had an unrealistic dream.
I get up, for everyone who’s ever been poor, oppressed, endured racism, and fought through sickness without health care.
I get up for everyone who’s too afraid to get up.
I get up every time I fall so that you know,
Lying on the ground is no place for a child of God, regardless of what man thinks about you.
I get up for you.




When fear greets you, it’s important that you look straight into its eyes and don’t flinch. It’s necessary that you stand your ground without giving a single inch. When it moves forward, no matter how scared you are, it’s imperative that you respond by taking a determined step forward and let it be known that you are calling its bluff and will not back down to its loud bravado. Fear is a bully, and like most bullies if you succumb to its will, it will punk you every opportunity it gets. But if you stand your ground, if you fight back, if you keep pushing forward; fear will be powerless against you. ~ Sean King


Thoughts on Poetry

It’s okay to write beautiful words that leverage an extensive vocabulary, are laced with erotic innuendo, and structured in one of the infinitely beautiful preexisting forms of poetry that go back thousands of years. But sometimes it’s necessary to break from tradition and style and to write something raw. Something dripping with emotion and truthful to its core. Something that stands in front of you naked, jiggling and flopping in your face, defiantly refusing to veil its body for your comfort. Sometimes it’s necessary to take your pen to the street and speak on behalf of the voiceless souls clawing for their small piece of the pie. Sometimes it’s necessary to write something where the whole purpose is to reach the very core of man and to jump start his soul into action. Sometimes it’s necessary to forget about the art and to reconnect with the being that is human.