“Back in Time” by Kingsley Osei
With the tracks in the stars, the train travels to Money, Mississippi
While these moonwalks of youthful strolls, get tainted by hillbilly hickory,
Sly Till, Sly Till,
Is that temptation in your eyes?
Inferior tones get lashed by the unkind reddened white,
My ride soars like Coltrane’s towering plateaus,
But my fall meets the end when I’m deprived by Jim Crow,
So, I go and go—further and further on this train,
And I pass by a jubilant Malcolm, verbalizing his spiritual game,
House negroes or field zeroes,
What am I today?
1965—I’m mesmerized by the sax of Coltrane,
Trains blue-dyed azure, like the ’88 crack rise,
Bumping “Touch the Sky” while gliding on this black enterprise,
Enterprise, multiplied, of Neo-Soul and smooth Jazz,
I’m working, steaming and relaxing while stacking this mass cash,
With the tracks in the stars, my ride derails off the yellow path,
And then I think for a split second of things I’ve never had,
But if my ride or train precisely stops here,
Then my transformation is complete, and this will be my year!