No One Can Stop The Rain

[Assata Shakur]

Watch, the grass is growing.
Watch, but don't make it obvious.
Let your eyes roam casually, but watch!
In any prison yard, you can see it - growing.
In the cracks, in the crevices, between the steel and the concrete,
out of the dead gray dust,
the bravest blades of grass shoot up, bold and full of life.
Watch, the grass is growing.
It is growing through the cracks.
The guards say grass is against the Law.
Grass is contraband in prison.
The guards say that the grass is insolent.
It is uppity grass, radical grass, militant grass, terrorist grass,
they call it weeds.
Nasty weeds, nigga weeds, dirty, spic, savage indian, wetback, pinko,
commie weeds - subversive!
And so the guards try to wipe out the grass.
They yank it from its roots.
They poison it with drugs.
They maul it.
They rake it.
Blades of grass have been found hanging in cells, covered with
bruises, "apparent suicides".
The guards say that the "GRASS IS UNAUTHORIZED"
"DO NOT LET THE GRASS GROW".
You can spy on the grass. You can lock up the grass.
You can mow it down, temporarily.
But you will never keep it from growing.
Watch, the grass is beautiful.
The guards try to mow it down, but it keeps on growing.
The grass grows into a poem.
The grass grows into a song.
The grass paints itself across the canvas of life.
And the picture is clear and the lyrics are true, and the haunting
voices sing so sweet and strong
that the people hear the grass from far away.
And the people start to dance, and the people start to sing, and the
song is freedom.


Watch, the grass is growing.
-Assata Shakur

[Queen_Samiya]

I feel what you are coming from with your poem.

[Jalili]

Originally Posted by Assata Shakur

Watch, the grass is growing.
Watch, but don't make it obvious.
Let your eyes roam casually, but watch!
In any prison yard, you can see it - growing.
In the cracks, in the crevices, between the steel and the concrete,
out of the dead gray dust,
the bravest blades of grass shoot up, bold and full of life.
Watch, the grass is growing.
It is growing through the cracks.
The guards say grass is against the Law.
Grass is contraband in prison.
The guards say that the grass is insolent.
It is uppity grass, radical grass, militant grass, terrorist grass,
they call it weeds.
Nasty weeds, nigga weeds, dirty, spic, savage indian, wetback, pinko,
commie weeds - subversive!
And so the guards try to wipe out the grass.
They yank it from its roots.
They poison it with drugs.
They maul it.
They rake it.
Blades of grass have been found hanging in cells, covered with
bruises, "apparent suicides".
The guards say that the "GRASS IS UNAUTHORIZED"
"DO NOT LET THE GRASS GROW".
You can spy on the grass. You can lock up the grass.
You can mow it down, temporarily.
But you will never keep it from growing.
Watch, the grass is beautiful.
The guards try to mow it down, but it keeps on growing.
The grass grows into a poem.
The grass grows into a song.
The grass paints itself across the canvas of life.
And the picture is clear and the lyrics are true, and the haunting
voices sing so sweet and strong
that the people hear the grass from far away.
And the people start to dance, and the people start to sing, and the
song is freedom.


Watch, the grass is growing.
-Assata Shakur

Wow this is one of those poems you say "Damn I wish I thought of this"

Beautiful poem

[JAH - GREEN]

The grass is there right before our eyes
We inhale and breathe to polarize
Each other's selves we keep in mind
For always remembering our futurized
Thoughts we walk along with the times
Letting the drugs to the mimes...who're tired

As you SAY, dearest leader, be your self...

And may I add, the grass will provide you air...

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Ok, just wanted to say I've loved the poem and that I'm glad for all the sense of spirituality that can match with any of our souls. Sure all found a way to identify and see for themselves what Natutre can bring, share or give at anytime of a lifetime...Love&Respect.

Jahgreen. One.