Pick Me, Choose Me, Love Me, Pt. 1 (Imperfect Prose)

Scholars, politicians, activists, paperback prophets and ministers vie to be your next savior in the Obama Era, but while you recognize them as false prophets, do you recognize the falsehoods inside you?

(More after the jump)

Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where’s the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream
of what I need

I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero ’til the end of the night
He’s gotta be strong
And he’s gotta be fast
And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I’m holding out for a hero ’til the morning light
He’s gotta be sure
And it’s gotta be soon
And he’s gotta be larger than life

— “Holding Out for a Hero,” Written by Jim Steinman and Dean Pitchford

I’m holding out for a hero.

Nope. Not you, so please put your hand away. I’m just going to keep sitting on this hard ass ground waiting for Zeus meets Shaft meets MLK meets Ramses meets Moses meets Jesus in a burrito. No need to do the work. Someone else will do it. No need to join the fight. The fight is ready made processed with sodium to serve on sterling silver platters. Sporks and plastic knives. And everything is so mushy, you don’t even have to chew.

Yeah. I don’t like it much, but what can you do?

I’m waiting on a hero.

I’ve seen them, the pretenders. I’ve watched them go to the tome and push away the stone and remove his decayed flesh. I’ve watched them drape it over their own skin and smile. Arms open, books for sale in hand, they smile and the beg that they are the true one. They are the light. They know the way. “Follow me!” they shout, but it doesn’t sound strong like the want. They sound weak. 

The corpse was rotted and the soul was long gone and it was nothing a thing like spider webs and dust.

“Follow me,” they shout.

I sit. Martin’s skin rots. It smells.

“Follow me,” they shout.

The concrete hurts my hard ass, but I won’t move.

“Follow ME!” they beg. “Follow me! Pick me! Choose me! LOVE ME!”

But I won’t go.

I never go.

I’m holding out for a hero.

Offer me your hand and I’ll refuse.

I prefer the hard ass curb.

Yeah, I don’t like it much, but what can I do? Get up on my own? I don’t know how.

I hate the looks from the ones with books,
But I don’t have the sense it took to read the book.
The word anti-intellectualism don’t mean shit to me,
But fuck a nigga who think he smarter than me.
Dress walk talk like a white man,
But now the president’s a black man, so I guess that shit is cool.
But not really? Feel me?
Ignorance is my drug, I stay high
People think I’m lazy, but I’ll go far
Do anything for money
Never say broke
Got a car so clean
Got chains, got ropes
Got chains, got ropes, got tied to debt
I’m a slave to the economy but that’s how I like to be kept
At least this time I chose the curb
No one stole me from the step
I’m holding out for a hero.

I’m holding out for a hero.

10 thoughts on “Pick Me, Choose Me, Love Me, Pt. 1 (Imperfect Prose)

  1. You need a dope beat fer that!Beautiful Snob, that was powerful. I can’t wait for your own comments on it. Really.

  2. I knew instantly that "Holding out for a Hero" reminded me of the Bonnie Tyler song. It turned out that it is. Personally, I don’t have any heroes because I know we’re all flawed human beings. Our soul is the only thing that’s perfect. And I wouldn’t wait for a heroine to come along because that’s just a fairy tale.

  3. Finger snaps for the SnobIsn’t the black community too diverse now for one hero? What issues would he prefably SHE rally around? And Can we stop with the defending criminals all the time. Marching for the Jena 6 when countless black students drop out of college because they can’t afford to stay

  4. I don’t need any one to be a hero but me, I stopped depending on politicians and the like to rescue me or perpresent me a very long time ago. There’s no need for the world to change. We’ve got to set out to change it. The Civil Rights Era is over and the ways in which is was ran does not help in the 21st Century. What we need are 21st Century solutions to solve our problems. It will happen when we all become involved in leading our communities. These men and women preach nothing but the same old thing"wait on it" and they’ll set you free! Some people think that the goal of self-sufficiency is impossible, it’s not, it’s easily accomplished when more of us inject ourselves into politics, transforming ourselves and our communities without asking for hand outs. We still have along way ahead of us and we cannot let the next genration take a timeout. When and if they ever raise the standard will be referred to as B.O.(Before Obama) and A.B.(After Barack) And whatever monumental progress that we make as a group of Americans will be definately noted.

  5. I had a feeling the corpse was MLK’s. I feel you on this Snob.I think the reality is we all want someone with the strength to take the lead. I look at the world feeling deep sadness for what is, great fear for what is to come and a feeling of powerlessness to do anything about it.

  6. So many people feel disconnected from anything larger than themselves as you have talked about in this poem. As usual, Black America (we’ll just pretend it’s a monolith for now) is somewhat of a microcosm of what’s going on for the rest of the country. We ALL have to find our own way now and many people are looking for someone, something to lead them out. Danielle, as talented as you are it makes no sense that you have been struggling so since 2007 (as per one of your videos)-if the best and brightest among us are having it rough then how terrifying is it for the ones who need to catch up.

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