Baub: Poet, Actor, Playwright

“If New Haven’s hip-hop community has a Renaissance man, it just might be Baub Bidon.”—

Jim Shelton, New Haven Register

baub2

Yes! I am finally sitting down to share with you an artist that I feel is keeping it real.  Baub speaks to the times, he speaks from the heart.  His pen is littered with truth.  He holds nothing back and stands behind everything he writes.  We have been sharing inspiration and poetry for more than a decade.  There are people who come and go and then there are people who lift each other up.  He is one of those people, one of those artists.  His poetry sticks to my thoughts and keeps me engaged.  I visit his page often for inspiration. He is mighty and strong, he uses the medium of poetry to bring wisdom, change and thought provoking messages to light.

Baub ( pronounced:Bawb ) Bidon is a Haitian/African American Poet, Actor, Writer, Playwright.

He writes to tell the stories often marinated from the ghettos, and jails throughout the United States. His poetry speaks of injustice and poverty. His hope is that his work uplifts and empowers those who are and have been victims of oppression.

Learn more: HERE

Jogging the Mind (6/30) 1986

In middle School,

Mr Neff, would have me read a dictionary

write the words, and definitions

as a way of punishment

eye would have to eat my lunch in class

in an empty room

while the other kids, would be in the cafeteria

eye could imagine some rapping,

and banging beats on table

but eye was alone

pounding, these webster pages

filling these legal sheets,

with words, eye didn’t care for

just wanted it to be over…

Father of,

translated into Arabic

is Abu

Prince defined

as Mumia

Put together, as…

Mumia Abu Jamal.

1986 marks, five years in prison

redesigned plantation

blamed for the crime, do the time

lose time, plant slavery in the mind

keep the body, close the blinds

the blind, don’t see injustice

nor read the fine print,

etched in the 13th amendment

my friend J-sun once said…

“slavery hasn’t been abolished, 

it’s just been polished”

Cleaned up, like a Philly crime scene

scarecrows, hide behind smoke screens

communities gated

the privileged keeps their suburbs

closed, to black hope

hope done died, with Jessie’s rainbow

Knock on Al Sharpton’s door

where’s the marches,

and all that freedom talk

what has it done, since he lost weight

privatized prisons, pockets much fatter

subsidized households, holds an empty plate

empty platter promises.

talk that freedom in your mind, Mumia

put it on radio, like hip hop

like, don’t stop

like, a head bop

bang on that wall my brothah

jog your mind, till it grows feet

till it knows how to defeat

till it runs out of that cage

and onto the streets

jog your mind…

till it becomes free

Copyright © 2017 Baub Bidon

 

READ MORE POETRY: HERE

#NEVAHBLACKDOWN

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