EBONY KING

Wars with great valor for the subsistence of your nation,
For their dignity, collectivity, identity reformation.

Shaped in prominence by the Creator who sits Most High,
Leading knights' endeavors, those with wounded pride.

Such a valiant warrior, your march confident; revered,
Eyes ablaze with knowledge, bestowed by The Most Feared.

Through debasing and brutality of his people, who were wronged,
Through shackles. Genocides. Slavery, you stand strong.

Through degradation, lynchings and malevolent commissions,
Through deceit and mendacity of which you thwarted the fruition.

For your commitment to your roots and the courage that you bring,
A tribute, my fearless warrior, my Proud Ebony King.

In honor, faith and wisdom, throughout time you have grown,
Come claim you rightful place, my Black King upon his throne.

Your Ebony Queen awaits you.......

THE QUEEN

Your womb impels the gifts of the prophets,
hearts of the combatants have reckoned your show of resolve
and great kings of grand nations across the beginning of creation have sought your guidance.
Your strength revealed through the ebony gaze of prospect upon your countenance.
The anguish and probabilities of the masses lumber your soul as you've nurtured and
sustained the seeds of your people in obedience to your SELF. The CREATOR.
Your exquisiteness crested by an unsullied halo of no subsist replica; a natural, absolute
sphere of beauty surrounding you.
SELF created you foremost to all mothers, to all Queens. The First Queen, the Alpha Centauri,
who sits amongst the heavens, your nimbus illuminating the brightest, The Queen, THE Original Queen.

KNOWING WHAT I WAS TOLD NOT TO

(I am a big fan of great Poets of the past, such as Langston Hughes and Gwendolyn Brooks and those who continue on in their work and in our struggle, such as Maya Angelou and my particular favorite, Nikki Giovanni, who's various styles of writing and sentence structure was and is pure perfection in its simplicity. This is my ode to her great style. Peace and Love)

gaze no longer shaded as my heart and mind ascends
as I move closer to perfection
closer to love
closer to knowing what I was told not to
when I went outside that ole sun swept me up
wrested me away to sway in its warmth
my mind ablaze
I glow knowing what I was told not to
and oh that mountain that I climbed welcomed me
now I see all the heavens from where I stand
I do not fall off
I'm high knowing what I was told not to
I went to all the seas and plunged myself into its purities
absorbing its fluid purpose to sustain the existents
my heart swimming
I'm drenched knowing what I was not to
forced to stand before the cotton fields, with gunnysack in hand
breathing deeply as I walk slowly through the dense pain
I emerge on the other side with a sword in hand
I'm strong knowing what I was told not to
I am free for what I know
ready to die for what I know
ready to live for what I know
ready to share with you what I know
I know THE TRUTH

NEED

I open my eyes.
It has no end. It drives me toward and toward,
restraining me, freeing me to BE.
Hungering, yet gorged and powerless to consume further.
I turn and turn and I turn with unfettered strength
to cease the flow of likely design.
Tolerating incursion of contemplation for my own selfish gain,
muffling the heave of it upon content.
I close my eyes and sleep.

TIME IS

Time IS on my side as I soar gracefully across mountain tops, drape my skin in ocean silk, brush tree tops with tear filled kisses, radiating laughter as the warmth of a million stars burst open inside my soul, joyfully propelling me into eternity and closer to my King who awaits me patiently, standing tall and proud as the sun warms his back and the beast of the land kneel at his feet...soon...

DEFINITIVE ILLUSIONS (Dedicated To The One Who Freed Me. Who Brought Me Back Into The LIGHT)

Definitive illusions reminds me of what I used to be. Discovery has no end, my will to bend.
Shape. Mode. Damn I'm bold. Do you, can you, feel me, see me, touch me, love me, free me?

AMERICA

I define AMERICA as the land of the free, the home of the SLAVE. Full of the graves of those who shed life for their freedom as it seeped through the cracks in their backs.....WHIPPED. BEAT. HUNG. RAPED. Yet, still unbroken, except for the token, few, that is. These Uncle Tom niggas who keep dancing these jiggas.....like fools do. You sell your own daughters for pennies and quarters while you drive fancy cars and get high as Mars. Oh but your reward is in hell as you blaze and yell.....right along side yo masta.