MAILBOX WEEKLY

  • Too Short Narrates American Morning

    Flip the switch. Press the gas. Cruise Waterside Drive until sunlight blurs the traffic lights. Icarus before the crash. Maybe. Too Short talks that talk. Runs down the science of hustle. Rock the Bells on… Read more

  • Audio Leak Sundays: Savage Life

    THANKS FOR LISTENING. MAKE SURE TO SUBSCRIBE TO MAILBOX WEEKLY! Read more

  • Our Father’s Flag Is Quite Different

    Freedom and liberation hop and skip down broken boulevards and polluted streets. Decay is decay, no matter how one explains it. Metallic rhetoric chips the air. Only valid when the right complexion is involved. It… Read more

  • ‘Murican Monday

    Not of this planet. Navigating polluted winds is essential, like jazz finding synergy after a few minutes. Coltrane’s code to the heavens. American politicsare boring. I stretch. I yawn. I liberate with each breath. A… Read more

  • AUDIO LEAK SUNDAYS: STRANGE DNA

    TAKE A LISTEN TO STRANGE DNA AND THEN SUBSCRIBE TO MAILBOX WEEKLY! Read more

  • No Half-Pints in My School Daze

    I could worry. Or go with God. A superior man doesn’t fold though. Alpha. No Greek letters. No fraternities. No hierarchies. No dances. No colonial rituals or silly names to prove my worth. No Half-Pints.… Read more

  • To Be Dangerous is the Highest Good

    Back against a crumbling wall, a creed weighing down shoulders with urban pressure. To break from this monotonous clutch or cage is special. Driving along interstates; a unique aggression crosses his face. Anger is a… Read more

  • Wake Up to Resistance

    Flex them chops. Craft soul until they aim faulty pistols or use sharp knees or interpretationsof American law. No need to comply. Refuse tradition. Establish new religion. Normal stuff. We are built for this savage… Read more

  • Transformation is an Animal

    Early fall creeps into September, like Hendrix playing riffs for a light crowd. Determined to shed the dead weight of colonial creeds, actions, and pigs that don’t fly straight. Life is a trafficjam, with gritty,… Read more

  • Sunflower Seeds and the Work of Tomorrow

    No filters up here. Alone on a tightrope above the noise, the metal, the grit, the social pollution; miles away from a soiled Constitution, I sharpenthe edge of a brain fixated on survival. Laced up… Read more

  • Tethered to the Master’s Feet

    High-stepping over snake-like structuresseems to be easy when avoiding them filthy cherry pies. I keep moving, like grit is a small bird perched on my shoulders. Trump hollers about immigrants with darker hues. New identity… Read more

  • Dopamine Drip From Cracked Pipes

    Don’t chase the temporary high of click bait and sophisticated ways to steal attention. We have been reduced to mindlessly scrolling for our enslavement–prisoners trapped behind walls, claiming we are free because the Constitution says… Read more

  • Delineation for Dummies

    Delineation without nationhood is cosplay. Delineation without nationhood is COSPLAY, is cosplay, is cosplay, IS COSPLAY. They love them red, white, and blue apples, falling from Empire’s ripped garments. They pray to colonial fathers to… Read more

  • No Mercy in the American Jungle

    Mercy can’t live in a jungle. This experiment is deadly, a creature that tries to fill its belly on the flesh of humans. A game of click-clack starts as soon as boots touch the ground.… Read more

  • Late Autumn Talks in Tongues

    Balancing weight for the fifth time this week. Subtle. Heavy. A bluesy rhythm set to the tone of American hustle, muscle. Carlos Santanna strums a melody for a sun hanging on a cold day in… Read more

  • Used to the Weather

    Adapting to the changes. To changes, I adapt. Eerily. Patiently. An early November morning winks her eye. Still gambling with old dice, trying to outlive the poison of snakebites or out hustle the pigs at… Read more

  • Words and Beats at Sundown

    Joy is a state of mind. Even a crooked smile has value. Changing tires in the wilderness has become a thing. Greg Lee unpacks the gear for another small crowd. We fall in with the… Read more

  • With Outstretched Wings

    American politics weigh the equivalent of a night without Bobby Womack’s raspy voice filling this space. Eerie. Boring. Slightly neutral. Need some Soul to waist away the evening. Maybe some Blues from John Lee Hooker.… Read more

  • Tell An Entirely Different Story

    Allow wings to stretch, like the doors of a Cinnamon-skinned Ford Explorer cruising through the late 90s. Dad used to crisscross state lines, while I used to catch snoozes in the back seat, listening to… Read more

  • Militant Kiss at Lunch Time

    Step through empire, leave ruins on the bottom of black boots–lace themthings for struggle, for the gamble, for the hustle,for the swollen knuckles, for the donkeys, for the elephants, for the fat cats. Swell the… Read more

  • New Poems in The Skinny Poetry Journal!

    Peace and greetings! I hope this message finds you well and finding some semblance of peace in the current whirlwinds of the American experience. The Skinny Poetry Journal has published two of my poems, James… Read more

  • Unbothered: After Election Time

    After voting time, my face is still shaped like a fist. Tightly screwed. Unbothered. Huey P. Newton behind a podium or Fred Hampton trying to build class solidarity. The truth lives in a gray area,… Read more

  • Nation-Building Escapes Fingertips

    “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us.”–Marianne Williamson Allergic to nation-building and… Read more

  • Get Your Copy of This W.O.K.E. Is Not An Act!

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  • American Jazz in Late October

    A different path. A different frequency. Flight is an idea, a way of life for people who are locked into alternative methods of screaming into the void, an American thing. The Last Poets talk fear… Read more

  • These Times Call for Good Trouble

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  • Audio Leak Sundays: Junk Food

    THANKS FOR LISTENING. MAKE SURE TO SUBSCRIBE TO MAILBOX WEEKLY! Read more

  • Stand Down, Stand Up, and Kneel at the Same Time

    Avoid cosplay by any means. Ten toes down. Actors can’t live here. As an Orange tyrant drives a filthy machine through traffic, hoping to convert sleepy people into patriotic minions. Toxic. Life in the margins is… Read more

  • Resistance as Lullaby  

    Say no to empire, to both wings of the same filthybird. Parties of failure and gas lighters. Let the teacher bless cold classrooms with fiery lessons from US history. Let young Emmett Till get his… Read more

  • No Emotions for a Failed Party

    Hakeem Jeffries kneels for the umpteenth time this year. Tap shoes grind down to the soles on men who don’t have souls. They float, like bees, but sting and shuck, like worthless pigs, sporting power… Read more

  • Get a copy of Blues in June Today!

    For the next 7 days, readers can purchase copies of Blues in June, which is a small collection of poems from the forthcoming Blues Man on a Tightrope Vol. 1! Click on the image and… Read more

  • Balancing Weight On Sunlight

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  • Choose Smoke: If You Must Interact With Donkeys or Elephants

    Dramatic. Like Gandhi tucking a firearm into the waistline of a three-piece suit, asking Congressto pass the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act. Or like Tupac spitting at reporters, and then speeding down the street… Read more

  • Audio Leak Sundays: Hustle for Essence

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  • Hampton, Like Fred

    Hampton boulevard buzzes. I stalk sidewalk. A Free Palestine flag flaps in front of an old tree, towering, like a symbol of an American today, a tale creeping along flesh, begging for the right interpretation.D.… Read more

  • Audio Leak Sundays: Road Less Traveled

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  • Rapid Decay is Beauty to Them

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  • Audio Leak Sundays: Volume Tied to God

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  • AUDIO LEAK SUNDAYS: Action is a Loaded Word

    LISTEN TO THE AUDIO FOR ACTION IS A LOADED WORD! THANKS FOR LISTENING! CLICK ON THE IMAGE BELOW AND DONATE TO THE CAUSE! KEEP THIS CONTENT FREE! Read more

  • AUDIO LEAK SUNDAYS: American Funk

    Listen to the audio or read below! Morning begins.Sun leans. 10:27am. Protein pancakes and boiled eggs provide the nutrition.Random birds talk, whistle, bounce from branch to branch in neighbor-hood trees, spray painting natural graffiti on greenery.… Read more

  • AUDIO LEAK SUNDAYS: Island of the Mind or Listening to Miles Davis

    Listen to the audio or read below! Solitude is King. Isolation is a type of God. Some may not understand ambitions, goals, and appetites. Nothing satiates the Hunger, like the grit of living for the… Read more

  • A Healthy Distrust

    A healthy distrust for Wings. Left wing. Right wing. Same old dusty things with colonial voices, circling their decaying bodies. This is most of the time, like brewing coffee on Monday mornings– Kenyan blend– placing… Read more

  • Sundays in the Machine

    Hit the pavement with aggression. This race toward heaven got bluesy stories and risky gambles. Break open the machine on a Sunday morning. Allow intentions to sidestep traditions and polluted creeds. D.C. politics still rage.… Read more

  • Today’s Thoughts on Empire

    No open palms in this crooked land. Only clenched fists and iron-like ideas  can survive in this social wilderness. I dig into this militant bag. Fela Kuti  runs down anticolonial chants to awaken morning.A fresh brew wafts into  spacious rooms–Kenyan blend.… Read more

  • Jazz Hangs on a Saturday

    Avoiding noise,like vibes consumeskin. Constantly. Fixing flats onpolluted earth,patching up holes onliberated wings.Snatch up purpose andmemorize thecracks in culture. Jazz hangson flesh. JohnColtrane. Dexter  Gordon. Mr. TheloniousMonk taps keys, altering moods. Rick laughs at an episode of Malcolm… Read more

  • More Human Each Day

    Cocoa scented skin wafts for moments–an epic simile–like my man Reggie, twirling a piece of raw chocolate from a Haitian cocoa tree. The years fly by. We grind. Buildto act, to protect,to love, to resist,… Read more

  • Poem Written After Watching an Episode of Goliath

    California license plate on a yellow bug. “Baby, I got your money,” she says, misremembering the codename. “The name is Fernando Vasquez,” he says. A lawyer with a bloody nose and a poor disposition slides… Read more

  • In June, A Little Boy Simmers

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  • Mailbox Monthly Vol. 2 is Still Available!

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  • Enter: We Were Supposed to Be Quiet?

    Good morning! First and foremost, thanks for continuing to read the poems of Mailbox Weekly! I will continue to add new content at least once a week. You may receive two poems in a week,… Read more

  • Gas Lighters Tap Dance in the Comments Section

    Spare me the fan fiction. Spare me the counterfeit morality. Spare me the bankrupted hymns of polluted country. Allow me to dig into my black crate for liberation music,for the perfect anti-system record to make… Read more

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