I Asked Her Who She Voted For In 2004, We Were Discussing Politics And Religion And That Was The First

The Woods

Your dreams will take you into the woods and when they do don’t get lost when it gets dark put the fire out they’ll come for you they smell you with their fangs out or their hands out they want from you I see you struggling what to bring but dont make noise or draw attention pack light move swift they track you by your footprints they’ll call you don’t turn back don’t slow down or get taken they’ll bait you they’ll love you don’t fall for it don’t give in when they howl at the moon they’re lonely and they’ll tell you you’ll be just like them lonely too don’t believe them they’re bitter they’re broken once hopeful now hopeless they wear disguises dressed as sheep they try to blend in hide their teeth don’t tease them they’re weak you are what they used to be but they’ll love you they’ll lie too they want to be just like you they’ll tell you about their dreams sleep with you then devour you lick your bones clean but listen to me if you don’t make it or can’t outrun them don’t become them I’ve been there I’ve been you now I’m among them one of them once they see you they’re coming they’re coming this is a warning

Who shot ya!? Hey, Pac, I’m still on the case because ever since they murdered you none of us have been safe. Was it the police? Was it your homeboys? Was is the KKK? On the Vegas Strip after a fight I’m surprised nobody got it on tape. I remember being nine on the cusp of defiance, rejecting all the heroes I was assigned in my sociology class. I told my teacher they were all murderers or murdered or make-believe, then I played her “Only God Can Judge Me” before she ran to the stereo and threw my cd in the trash. And that’s when I knew you were the hero I’d look up to, somebody not in the history books someone real I could grasp. And then I saw the news you had been shot you had been killed. Then I came back to school and my teacher just laughed. She said I should pick better heroes, somebody not as aggressive, someone on a much better path. Then I had to remind her of Malcolm of Martin of Huey of Fred of Medgar etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, and told her it didn't matter, black heroes don't seem to last. Who shot ya! Hey, Pac, what are we gonna do? How are they gonna find who kills us if they can’t find who killed you? I Wonder If Heaven Got A Ghetto, verse three you sounded something like a prophet. You predicted 20 years ago that police would be out here killing us and we couldn't do anything to stop it. You said, “cops give a damn about a negro, pull the trigger, kill a nigga he's a hero” and now, “the streets are death row.” The cops are judge, jury and executioner and apparently every bit of it’s legal. And I don't know if Heaven’s got a ghetto, but I know its got a long line and there’s some people waiting to get in that could use your comforting because we know Tupac cared when nobody else did. I’m sure we keep you busy up there, we’ll make sure you died for something. Who shot ya? Hey, Pac, your killer is still on the loose. I don’t know if you heard, but they got BIG too. They’re killing everybody that we looked up to. And I know there’s people who will hear this that won’t understand “He was a thug” “He got what he deserved” “His music should have been banned” And those are the same people who fear us when we band together in death. They mock us they incite us when we riot or protest. Who shot ya!? Hey, Pac, maybe it’s best we never know. Jokes on them because they will never be immortalized and you will forever be the hero.

Finally got to paint both of my grandparents for their birthdays.

“Black people in this country are in a state of emergency” - As an artist it can take me weeks or months to find the time, energy, and inspiration to create something new, but these past couple of months have put all other art on hold as I try to process and respond to what’s going on in this country. Black people are under attack. As I’ve seen many post before - don’t tell me you’re sorry as if you take pity on me being Black, and don’t tell me you stand with me, tell the racists you stand against them.

Shoutout to all the artists who have found the will and energy to create anything during such emotionally draining times. And shoutout to the artists who haven’t created anything in months because we are still processing, or because artwork has taken a back seat to survival. #blacklivesmatter #socialdistance #socialjustice

What Do You Believe In?

I never really knew if the earth went around the moon or the sun around the earth, but I still went to church when you asked me to. I still held hands and prayed with you even though I had questions about your prayers and your God and your Heaven and the stares I used to see your momma give to the Reverend when he sang hallelujah. But I never questioned your truth. I admired you for the fact that you could believe in something so blindly without ever needing proof, and that was enough to make me believe in us. I believed in love.

They say God is love so I thought my love was your truth, and I made sure I loved you exactly how you asked me to. On Sunday mornings at 8:00 am so we could get an early start on repentance for the sins we committed the night before. I was never sure what you prayed for, but I went through the motions with you even though all my prayers were ignored. I prayed for us.

I even turned my back on my own Catholic Jesus to pray to yours, despite the fact he and I still had some unresolved issues between us.

You shunned my philosophy. I held your hand as we believed in all your contradictions and hypocrisy.

You prayed for everything but us. You believed in everything but me.

I never had a religion, but I believed in you and you let me down. So what do I believe in now?

Every time I see my Grandmaw she asks me why I never come around.  I tell her I’ve been busy doing things, like missing you, and leaving town.

Yet, you make me feel guilty whenever I ask for your company; I’m too needy,  get too attached, you can’t be all up under me. And I told my Grandmaw what you said, that I should spend more time alone, get to know me,  find myself,  do a few things on my own. 

Now, her memory ain’t the best, but she remembers that she never liked you much. Said that you were the needy one, so out of line and out of touch.

She told me that she missed me, but I’ve been going about it wrong. Grandmaw said we should treat love as a visitor and never as a home.

The D Train

I saw you tonight waiting for the D train. I was going uptown to Harlem and you were headed to downtown Manhattan, or Brooklyn, I don’t know, you were on the other side of the tracks so I couldn’t ask you.

You looked dead at me though, like you had something you had been waiting to tell me and you finally got the chance, but I was just out of whispering distance. So, you walked to the edge of the platform

like you wanted to jump. Not into my arms or anything, but like you realized you were about to get on the wrong train and you needed to hurry and get to the right side of the tracks. There was something you needed to tell me.

It’s an impossible leap, you would never make it. Plus, now the train is coming. I guess you didn’t care because you did it. HOLY SHIT, YOU DID IT! You actually ran to the edge and jumped

like you had been practicing your whole life for this. Like a gymnast who had never won a gold medal in anything in her life and now this were your Olympics. Just as you jumped, you opened your mouth to say something

and the train came and cut you in half. It was intense. There was confetti everywhere. I couldn’t wait to see if you were ok or anything because I had a train to catch. It was late and the D train runs funny at this hour.

I mourned you all the way to 145th Street until I remembered that you don’t even live in New York. Neither do I. I came to this island just to get away from you. I guess I should have chosen somewhere slightly more deserted.

8 million people in this city, I was bound to see you somewhere, in someone. Now I’m bound for the Bronx because I missed my stop and I have no idea how I’m going to make it home, or if I want to.  

Pick up the new book (and the old one) at Studio Be in New Orleans or visit my website nikrichard.com

My brother, the brilliant @nikrichard dropped off some copies of his new book at @studio_be_ , pick up your copy while supplies last. #studioBE #ephemeraleternal #ADreamForSale (at Studio Be)

Spam

LoveAndWater: Hi how are you? www.meetmehere.com

NikRich1986: Re: Hey, I’m good actually. Been so long since we spoke. I thought you may have deleted me from your life all together, I guess it’s kind of hard to delete an email address from the internet. It's the piece of technology that gives all relationships their last bit of hope, lol. I saw a wrecked white Jeep Wrangler yesterday and thought about you, us. Hoping it wasnt you inside. I’m guessing you’re ok. How have you been?

LoveAndWater: Do you like music? Click here!  www.mp3fr.com

NikRich1986: Re: I’m always looking for something new to listen to. I’ll check them out. Music has been my only company these past few months. I say, listening to music is like always having a friend around. The thing I like about music is that it always takes you back to where you were the first time you heard it. Like a time machine. But time machines have drawbacks, some parts of the past are best not re-lived. How’s your job? Do you run the place yet?

LoveAndWater: When is the last time you went camping? Check out these deals! www.kayakthroughyourtears.com

NikRich1986: Re: Haven’t been since I was a kid with my dad. I remember we talked about going camping a few times, but it never really worked out did it? Do you still hate nature? lol. I can find us a cool spot in Mississippi and we can cross at least one thing off the list of the many things that we never got to do together. I can finally show you how to fish! October is probably the best month. Are you free then?

LoveAndWater: I just won a new iPod by filling out this survey! www.areyoudeadinside.com

LoveAndWater: Hey, I think my email has been spamming you. Sorry about that! I’m going to delete it so don’t bother messaging again. Thx.

“Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world” =)

NikRich1986: Re: Wow… I guess we haven’t spoken in so long that eventually some part of our subconscious would reach out to each other. Its funny that you can think about somebody hard enough for so long and the universe finds ways to manifest them for you. Its almost like my heart hacked into your computer. Its pretty romantic if you think about it, that’s some real soul mate shit right there. Anyway, call me sometime, or text. I prefer you text. Just to let me know you’re doing alright. 301-5320 Same number it’s always been.

Failure Notice: Message Undeliverable

We love the beauty of flowers so much that we rip them from the ground take them out the sun put them in a vase and then watch them die. Such an ostentatious display of decadence and decay for one to think they can plant a garden inside. But whatever it takes to reaffirm us that we possess just a little bit of light to make tulips bloom in a dimly lit living room for just long enough to give us a glimpse of all the wonder the world has to hide. For just a brief moment we kept something alive. Even if we knew that it would eventually fall apart, we tried and we held out hope because for that short amount of time it was beautiful and we thought we had something to do with it. We felt we were the reason why when those petals finally opened up despite all the darkness we provide.