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Hunted to be Taunted; I hate periods

The present is my hero
I was rescued from my past
Where I was trapped in my woes
The challenges of yester times
Has no power over my soul
They have metamorphized into something else.
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(more…)

Why Die Not

Why die not?
When breathing,
I live for others

suicide13n-2-web.jpg (more…)

Children of the Masses

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We are the children of the masses
Watching our parents work and toil with great mass
Hopefully we expect good reward for their labours
But their fruits taken into others habors. (more…)

The Unashamed Clarion

slave

Langsyne,
I was jumping and touting in bondage
My wrist noised in chains
When darkness is all I could behold
A slave to what should be my least slave
Torment; my greatest friend
Led me blindly to the destination death
Death; the price for my inherited debt
The more I live, the interest of my sin blooms
My life not sufficing for my debt
And shame filled me deeply
O doomed man I was
Born into the generation of poverty
The debt I owed,
My lineage would forever owe
And clinch to the scene of sin
Only to be seen to my lynching
Where hope is an abomination.

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Suddenly, a light shined
A hope I never sought, found me
The life I never asked, possessed me
A water I never requested, filled me
I looked to the light,
The light is a being,
I saw Him pay my “death”, no debt no more
My hope restored
It was “God’s Redemption At Cross’ Exposition”
The light, my benefactor was, is and would be
Just Ending Satan’s Ubiquitous Superintendence”
Am not ashamed to proclaim Him Rabboni
Because He took my shame
Wore it as a garment.

breakdance

I am a clarion for him
I will make a loud sound
Developed from the depth of my heart
Will sing with my tongue
My feet would jump to dancing
My palms would do the clapping
I am full made His clarion
All to make known his praises
And am unashamed

My complaint: The Microphone’s Protest

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Long enough I’ve waited
Waiting to be unleashed from my disease
Men tossing me up and down (more…)

Rain

th (9)

In this rain
When vision seems fuzzy
Splashes of water on my head
Soaked and drenched on this mid-road (more…)

SUMMARY of ADDISON GAYLE JR’s “From the Black Aesthetics”

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Around the 1950s and 1960s, the art of the black people became so noticeable in its beauty, that even the most bias observer of the period, would notice. At this point, the whites realized that they cannot judge nor elucidate the art by Negroes effectively, (more…)

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