Some icons
are
“World Historic Individuals”
some
battle principalities
some channel muse
some
seek to see
the very face of God
and translate
blessings for
humanity.
I sing
this
ode
like
A father, man, poet and priest because we
can’t bring back this treasure.
Drugs don’t discriminate and
the world is only elevated to what [we] make of it — by God’s grace.
So, we need to love each
other better than before
especially
in hard times.
We need to
heal, even the grandeur of our shadows
reflective
like the moon
the sun’s partner
on inner-troubled-DNA
greater than family
in tired circles.
I sing like
A father, man, poet and priest because
We are just singing, dancing, playing in the
Universe.
May God
heal
souls
now
and the sources of all their pain.
Discourage wrong
Bobby
brown,
Chris
brown plantation “buck-decisions”
restore our
humanity and villages.
Ordain instead
supportive guard-rails
and
exalt prophetically
since there’s only one earth
only one constant
God’s energy railing across
our history
(every people have one)
Place new balm on sun scars with
metaphysical pain because we were all intended to be here
intended to survive with intelligence.
But… our inner wounds are still open
open ended as real as the Atlantic.
As real as the
Middle Passage.
And it too
beckons and remembers
like unfinished business
magnetic and muse lore-ic to poet kinsmen
like a parallel universe
pulling music
from
sensitive hearts to the deep
for new arrangements
and
improvisation to
sing to.
As we
are all just
spirit
in our maturity
we feel the ageless
and indeed touch tongues
in tones
not English
separated by language and words.
We feel
the ageless presence.
We still babble to an
intellect,
spirit,
feeling murmuring
to us like guardian watchmen without faces
who can do but so much
echoing warnings of life’s sharp edges,
telling shipwrecks, curses and cures to slave deals
even when master is finished trades
and we are centuries later
millionaires.
God show your face
Now
instead of
bottoms with no end.
Let Whitney
be the last
taken by this world
and sent like…
a blood/youth
otherwise senseless
sacrifice…
for resolution.
May she be the last we offer
in our lack-of-family-culture.
May ancestors
too rest in peace
cease
to walk spiritually shore to shore.
Cease to send strong winds, strong concern and trouble waters behind them
across
the oceans filled with sacrifices and their bones lining the ocean with
live-skeletons.
Let us establish anew “why” we are here.
Establish anew that [we the people] will ordain humanity
and not just boundless enterprise.
Let us birth the need
for all women
to live on in peace!
I sing like
A father, man, poet and priest because
Drugs don’t discriminate
and the world is
elevated to what [we] make of it — by God’s grace.
We want to bury minstrel entertaining
and pain
never allow our girls again
to bed with
predatory bucks
or do business that they
can’t obviously handle alone.
Restore community
restore shelter for woman
loved by men
who have been sent from God.
We need families,
in the physical
discerning of
our sometimes troubled – DNA.
I sing like
A father, man, poet and priest because
Because we are
just singing, dancing,
playing in the
Universe.
Beautiful… And true
Beuatifully done. I love it.