Joseph

the innermost desire of the sufferah shall serve as your daily prayer
your fears shall yield to a strength unknown
your knees will straighten at the cry of your brother
his pain, to be claimed as your own.

the passing of life from this world to the next,
shall no longer be classified as death
while feelings of sadness and grief shall retire,
as love overrules our regrets

a joyful song shall be heard for the longer
each time that a life is conceived
not even the sick will long after pity,
for triumph has sewn all a seed.

Awakened

In the window of each moment
at the open of each day
I am in further retreat from the idea
that any man
who walks, breathes, and bleeds as I
could fit the qualifications pursuant to the title of my enemy.

L'Overture

I saw the color of the clouds when blood rained from the heavens to the sea
u speak of the Lord yet dismiss the least of the weak
Believe when I say it is me you ignore

cursed be the ground beneath your feet
for whatsoever is sewn for this soil, you see
so shall it be reaped by those dwelling on the opposite end
do u know what it is to look deep within?

close your eyes and feel the gaze of the sun
the blood in your veins, do you hear?
the voices,
listen as they shout

"I cry, pray & sing...yet nobody knows."

if only you would listen,
perhaps. you would hear and know
that ours began
not with birth
but at the advent of the dust
taken from the earth, animated by the words

LET THERE BE

but no
you fear the dead
the conquered keep your attention
while your freedom has long been bought...
with the blood of the one to whom the earth cries out

WILL YOU NOT SEE

if you knew your brother. you would know his pain.
water the soil, yet u neglect your sister

Mister,

may I remind you that both nurture the fruit,
bearing seed that is VICTOR

in triumph our story began,
to triumph so shall it return
neglect not those who walk and weep,
across, under, against & around
do not allow the eye to dry
for a cocoon is more than a place to die

live not by bread, but of the word
Lord bring I peace, but first a sword.

LIBERTE'

a nursery rhyme for the black child

frogs & snails and puppydog's tails
that's not what little black boys are made of
they are the seed born from black fruit that made love
I could never dis.re:spect
where black boys came from

sugar & spice and everything thats nice
is that what little black girls are made of?
was it the sky or the sea, that you came from?
and does the I contain WE in thy Kingdom...

Little Brother

u can go anywhere, any place.
so long as your heart remains full of love.
it shall be your passport to trod
not like a Lion, but as one.
the earth will gather to support your stance.
the sea will quench you with an offering of self.
the stars will hail and pray,
that God may grant their greatest wish
to be like their brother, that shining prince.
Who learned not only to walk on land,
but in the race of uncertainty, stand firm as a Man.

Til Somebody Knows...(Cry, Pray & Sing)

I Cry. Pray.
And Sing. But nobody knows.

sometimes I cry.
sometimes I pray.
sometimes I sing.

But don't nobody know.

For years I did fear, losing all that I had,
Gave away all I was, to gain all that I AM.

My Brightest did tell me,

“Though, this life is queer,
Yours is to live each day--in all things but fear.”
For just as life stems from the Father above
He sends death to rescue, His laborers of love.

When still, I can feel, the whip teething my back
Each stroke as it lessens, the flesh from intact
Songs of sorrow sung by dwellers of doubt
While broken winged vultures go lurking about

And as I take flight
on winds that life brings
I slowly do die...CRY, PRAY and SING

Gather me a score of black boys and girls
And find before thee, first seeds of this world.
let not your days, be darkened with hate
For nightfall to end, the Sun must indeed wake

Though family may fail you, and good friends betray
Faith will prepare you, a portion of strength
Beauty will fade, where mortality shows
Darkness will strike, yet one thing I know

If mine is to die, then first I will fly
to the peak where the spirits of ancestors lie
I'll unbind the ties that enslave the soul

then CRY, PRAY and SING.

til somebody knows...

The Pursuit

Papa played the trumphet, mama sang a song
daughters on the dancefloor, brothers on the wall
brown was in the bottle, green was in the eye
voices in the background, fire in the sky

Aunty in the kitchen, uncle on the phone
somewhere in the basement, kids was gettin grown
started with a slow kiss, gentle to the touch
followed by the light-switch, fingers start to clutch

"Maybe we should slow-down", babygirl would whisper
"OOOH, I'M TELLIN MOMMY!"....that was little sister
then would come the one song, people gather round
in a sea of rhythm, everybody drowned

Summernights was slumber, underneath the stars
youngins on the corner, playin, "thats my car"
neighborhoood depression, hopeless it would seem
still somehow we made it, just'us and a dream

Oftentimes I wonder, just what became of them
the ones I went to school with, the few I called ‘my friends'
They say the Lord will bless the child, who's got his own one day
I too believe, but til then, tis for the prisoner I pray.