Brooklyn, New York, 2012, by Cain Nkosi:

He said they came from Costa Rica
With fire in their heart
Said their pay
Was the accolades
The endless days

The process of processing
Davinci
Picasso
Ibo Bonilla
Said they throw flames of colors for revolution
Fierce red like Shango
Speaks the ancient mother tongue of change

Call them scribes
Griots
GreenNoise
Flame throwers of yesterday with fire in their eyes
I swear I saw them paint the sky green
The color of nature’s gifts
Supernatural gifts of the third kind
And I wonder
Wonder if they see potential
In my baby girl’s eyes
Told my son that he could become
One two
A flame thrower of tomorrow
Painting yesterday’s story
Telling his truth with his brush
Singing our song with their spirits

I tell GreenNoise
I see you
Magnificent green and blue hue & all
Non stop drips and strokes reminds me
of Jackson Pollock & all
I see you

Reliving our yesterdays
Chasing clouds with jaguars
Recreated Brooklyn skylines
Through the stroke of your brush.