I was born with a cracked voice and a staggering speech,
Sometimes it's harder to tell if I'm complaining or not....
I write poetry and listen to music like I'm on salary to do so,
But being part of a choir is something I'll never wish for...
Today I bumped into my younger self,
He asked for advise and I showed him some scars....the ones he's yet to wear in the next episodes of life,
In my speech to him from me or perhaps from me to him, I witnessed he's innocence leave he's eyes
If ******* would sing
I'd audition a thousand times
He'd sing the chorus I'd write the lyrics and we'd perform a bittersweet song...
It's amazing what comes to mind when you find the last adolescent pictures that survived in the fire....
Tribute to Dawn of Day: Stories from the Underground Railroad
From
Tennessee
Virginia
Mississippi
Kansas
Wisconsin
To free states in the north and Canada
I grieved upon the grave of the slave
Tears circling the tomb
Securing his name
For their bloodshed
From whips and blows
By the masters and relatives
On the countryside
Down south
Oral histories and tradition passed down
Children
An investment
Field hands
Skilled labor
Textile production
Seamstresses clothed the slaves
A hovering over of threat of violence
And a whipping
Secret prayer meetings held on the plantation
The Underground Railroad
Station masters housed runaway slaves
in logged cabins
Conductors run the wagon
$50 reward for their capture
Images of faces with no names
Abolitionists regarded as extremists
A threat to the order of the day
******* fought in the Civil War
Share cropping
And Jim Crow
Then migration to city ghettos or slums
Marckincia Jean
Narrative
09/26/19
He didn't mind his father, ran away from home
Barefoot boy, dressed in rags; hair never met a comb
Never attended church or school, lived down by the river
Taken in by a proper widow, he cursed his new caregiver
Huck Finn was lawless, vulgar, and altogether coarse
Smoked like a sooty chimney, had the manners of a horse
Grew up in an age and era where ******* were all slaves
His best friend, Tom Sawyer, hid plundered booty in a cave
Yes, Huck Finn was as black as any black sheep come
But though he wasn't book-smart, Huck sure wasn't dumb
So when he met a slave named Jim on deserted Jackson Island
Something stirred in Huck's heart; he lent old Jim a hand
Huck risked his life to help Jim escape from slavery to freedom
He threw Jim's owners off the trail; he knew how to mislead 'em
This rebellious ne'er-do-well, all regarded as a black sheep
But Huck fought for Jim, for what was right -- and what he sowed, we reaped
July 08, 2019
Black Sheep Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausin
Written upon the occasion of a notorious
Dominionist who is intolerant, racist, anti-science,
homophobic, misogynist, anti-catholic,
who teaches God does not hear Jewish prayers,
blames black people for causing slavery,
and who specifically asked the president to turn
America into a theocratic "benevolent" dictatorship
under which the Constitution becomes
secondary to the Bible, invited by Dolt45 to lead
the first White House Bible Study Group
in over 100 years.
Everybody stand and sing!
"Jesus hates the gays and *******,
Jesus hates moslems and jews,
Red and yellow black or brown
Jesus knocks them each one down,
If they're immigrants he makes them eat their shoes."
And for our second hymn:
"Shall we gather by the river
To stone somebody we dislike
Then their corpses we'll deliver
As offerings to the Reich."
The White House Bible Study Cheer:
"Death to Jefferson!"
Mirror Mirror, they're
always claiming 'bout thou.
They pronounce that
you're unfair to them,
because you don't
change anything faces
thou.
You're not the only
one that reflects,
they've forgotten
how water shows
and gleams to what
confronts it. But bother
not, because apparently
the way they make
hates on you is likely
how they enmited it.
Mirror Mirror, sometimes
it takes you an australopithecus
to declare illusions and
ramshackles.
Even though you mimiced
such, it's nineties time of
your brainy obstacles.
Those skeptics to you
will remain as how they
believedout in you.
They spend hundreds
decades but still discover
themselves as how
they left you.
I can remember reputely
the time those with red
ears used to visit *******
and deceit them by giving
them your parts like
mendaciouses.
Your hierarchy is more
further distanced from other inventiouses.
Many definations are synonymize
you with your demeanors.
I venerate you with all my
hearty ardors.
White Knights,
Aryan brothers
Sons of the Confederacy
loyal to the Cause
Black lives don’t matter much ...
******* are zeroes
in our Fourth Reich beer halls
White Knights,
Aryan sisters
Daughters of the Confederacy
trumpet the Cause
Picaninnies picking cotton
is the only thing tar babies
are good for at all
Lets make America great again
like it was way back when
Dixie slavery songs was the sounds of the South
at the opening and closing of the plantation gates
Squashing Antebellum rebellion with a good castration ...
lynching was the strange fruit we Union haters ate
And seeing them KKK days again is gonna be great
White Knights,
Aryan brothers
Sons of the Confederacy
loyal to the Cause
So evil strong and abiding is our hate ...
We’re gonna turn back the clock,
and abolish those civil right reprobates
We’re gonna once again make America great
We are true neo-Nazi believers
who slave hard
at making our backward racial beliefs a sinister reality
Fourth Reich of July burning cross White Night
will be the darkest Independence Day in American history
Voting is the best vodka
******* ever drank
Gave 'em equality liquor dreams,
had 'em thinking they're something that they ain't
At least not in the eyes
of non-polite alt right society
Their thinking is:
being crammed in the back of a bus,
getting shipped off to another war for democracy
is the proper place for ******* to be
Black sardines go well with vodka, don't you agree
C'est la vie
Voting is the best vodka
coloreds ever drank
Gave 'em hangover equality dreams,
had 'em believing they're something that they ain't
At least not in the minds
of polite leftist intellectual society
Their thinking is:
create paternalistic policies to keep 'em pacified,
while allowing 'em to sacrifice their lives
in another war for democracy
Then try their next social experiment guilt-free ...
the coloreds will, of course, thank them properly
Black test tubes are the best glasses
for drinking vodka, don't you agree
C'est la vie
I ain't never been much of a drinker,
much less have a taste for voting vodka
Those poor comrades of disillusionment and discontent,
still have black Russian fantasies,
of which crack pipe dreams are made of
RAPE ON SONGHAI
Washington, Washington, their Washington
With a great hot flaming phallus in hand
Griped so tight, knuckles turn pale
You shield it up with the hood of this new religion
And thrust hard, deep, tearing Songhai’s hymen
This rape of dignity and pride, she breeds
You told Africa; Man, I come to circumcise
He closed his eyes to the pain, you castrate him
The hurtful ******* baptism of allegiance
Now, his sex starved Nimpho wives turn whores for you
Him no more but a Eunuch attending your models
Yet, you come back to a breeding Songhai
Have you no shame left in your dangling scrotum
Or you are again moved by your evil lustful greed?
Clam your laps and cover your thicket thighs
Use these black shrubs and hide your nudity
This Washington Devil has gone nuts with lust
Take your shame and cover your bare ****
He is cunning, will even pluck your ****
His phallus is hot with flames, can only sheathe
Thro’ your valley of juices, block your pots
Washington, please, hook your religion between your laps
Can’t you see she is in pains of your civilization
And breeding from the wounds your democracy inflicts
When your huge phallus tore her vagina walls?
The freedom songs the ******* sing
Every time the bells of slavery ring;
The anthem the shepherd boys scream
When hope is nothing but a dream;
The future beyond their very eyes
Whose passion gets colder than ice;
The tears on those bereaved faces
Of so many people in different places;
The agony of unanswered questions
That tend to unimaginable tensions;
The insults conceded in open shame
When no other would take the blame;
The fears of being for love forsaken
By those for which the choice was taken;
The path on which to softly tread
To never for once miss a daily bread;
The bed of roses on twinkling turns
Changing into ugly and prickly thorns;
These and more dazes this puzzled pen
When in the hands of I, of all men.
These two men died with a rope dangling
Them from a tree
Like they were ******* in southern
Captivity.
Why could they not make labor day in May?
The proper way to commemorate a life
Is on the day the life changed history.
These two men, they died
And history for all workers was the same
For all are now scorched by hate
That torch those who bears Afric's name.
They died manacled to their dreams
Coffled to our history
They died to change the workers lot
To put more food in starving pots
They died, and with them died
The movement's greatest pride.
Justice delayed from fringed time frazzled cry
Until the DREAM can heal itself and broken trust
******* shackled minds in the velvet shadows try
Evolving with a nation drunken in bloody lust
Trapped in tragedy of a blurred emancipation line
Edged to the margin of Reconstruction, it tells
Empty enactment lagging that Constitutional hell
Nattering historic lies, blood and tongue dispels
Truth against the moral lie, all brotherhood a shell
Heaven's rich cause stumble in raged hearts to fill.
You know who we are.
We're with you everyday,
We're from the ghettos, the project buildings
the neighborhoods with low incomes
You know who we are
We're considered in society as the minority,
yet we're the majority in poverty,
the 16th president constituted abomination
for the sins of those whose skin is pale,
still we're slaves to an American economy,
who blames our new generations
for the contamination of the crack sale,
You know who we are
We're college graduates,
we have High school degrees
we're doctors, lawyers, sergeons and teachers
we're diplomats, philosophers, ordained as preachers
We're American, African
players of Uncle Sam's past time
concieved in the Nile, raised along the Potomac
sold by our own, for collateral and material,
we're the New World's history,
workers of cotton gins, fighters for rights
You know who we are
*******, black,
beautiful as the dawnless night
He came on the brink of the ******* ascent to the White House;
A slave of an unusual sort.
He peered,
From the tiny window in the quarter,
At the snow
Smothering life,
And felt his predecessors’ woe.
Many, like Stella,
Came to find a groove
But purchased with perjury
Men with desires to excel;
To escape the clutch of privation
And scorn.
Ambitious to become house-wives
With uneducated spouses
And the need for the goodlife.
The unscrupulous requests grow intolerable
And recentments fester and prosper,
While the innocent observe
And absorb this lie.
Words cut like razor
And provoked the unthinkable;
Children, like chains,
And immigration shackles
Derailed the contemplations
Of living again.
On thy breast I suck
On thy belly I walk
On thy hand I cluck
On thy nose I cock
On thy orders I talk
With your knuckles I knock
With your brain I fork
With your tears I shock
With your mouth I pork
In your warmth I rock
In your agony I sock
In your sweat I work
In your strength I pluck
Mama Africa I know you sleep not
Your sleeplessness has watered the African root
You have suffered for all that is black in colour
You have laboured for the Negritude race
You have toiled for the Black *******
You remain our source of inspiration
You remain our point of innovation
You remain our fountain of knowledge
Your innate unique creativity remains our pride
Even if today is stormy and stuffy
Yesterday bouncy and bumpy
Tomorrow will be juicy and yummy
Mama Africa,
Sprinkle on us ceaselessly the water of life.