They gave Rapper Kendrick Lamar a Pulitzer Prize for, “Self Expression” …. for putting in “work”. Here are 3 short poems… lyrics … that influence how “Art Imitates Life.”

Never forget–not for a second–that we live in a Colonizer Nation… that sits in a colonized world. Therefore, Anything that’s in your neighborhood… it’s because the colonizer wants it there. If there’s guns or drugs in YOUR neighborhood–it’s because The Colonizer WANTS it there.

I Have a Rendezvous with Death—A WWI poem by
Alan Seeger, 1888 – 1916

“I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

“It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.
God knows ‘twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear…
But I’ve a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.”

“Here Bullet” From Iraq War soldier-poet Brian Turner

“Here, Bullet
If a body is what you want,
then here is bone and gristle and flesh.
Here is the clavicle-snapped wish,
the aorta’s opened valves, the leap
thought makes at the synaptic gap.
Here is the adrenaline rush you crave,
that inexorable flight, that insane puncture
into heat and blood. And I dare you to finish
what you’ve started. Because here, Bullet,
here is where I complete the word you bring
hissing through the air, here is where I moan
the barrel’s cold esophagus, triggering
my tongue’s explosives for the rifling I have
inside of me, each twist of the round
spun deeper, because here, Bullet,
here is where the world ends, every time.”

Now… read lyrics from the young black man they gave a Pulitzer Prize award to. A HUGE pat on the back, ENCOURAGEMENT … and some silver for doing his part:

“Pussy Nigga” by Kendrick Lamar

[Hook: Woop] (2x)
“I would never sleep on a pussy nigga
I would never eat with a pussy nigga
I woudn’t do no dirt with a pussy nigga
Cause baby I’m a fucking pussy nigga killer

[Verse 1: Woop]
“My dog lost his life to a pussy nigga
How a pussy nigga kill a real nigga?
I guess that in my city ain’t nobody pussy
Cause all them pussy niggas seem to pack a pistol
And all these pussy niggas claim they bout they issue
Woop rule #1, hang with real niggas
I never been a talker thats just played out
100 rounds out of a drummer what we sprayed out
I would never let a nigga disrespect me no
Niggas know I keep it 100 I don’t sugar coat
If a nigga pull up on me crazy I’mma let it go
Me and my niggas we professionals

[Verse 2: Yo Gotti]
“It seem like once a month a pussy nigga on his period
And thats the reason i dont fuck with niggas period
These niggas act like hoes they to indecisive
Gossiping ass niggas call these niggas trifling
I’ll never leave my house without a pistol nigga
And I think every rap nigga is a pussy nigga
I ain’t a rapper I’m a drug dealer
I do this for the killers and the thug niggas
Stop the beat let me talk to them acapella
He a pussy nigga if he acting jealous
Chase over hoes nigga man up
It’s money to be made get ya bands up pussy”

No… “art form” … in the history of African people, has been the backdrop … of so much self-destruction… so much black-on-black murder and violence and ignorance and self-loathing and the hatred and violence against women and the hatred and violence against men and the celebration of being locked in slavish cages, and the fear and traumatic, lying embrace of homophobia as Hip Hop and Rap.

Plato said, “…you write the laws, but let me write the songs because the youth will act out the songs.”