Black Poetry : 400 Years Later Aint Know Walls To Shelter The Pain

ASHANTA

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Jan 15, 2003
1,859
74
Brooklyn N. Y.
The Sons of the Thieves That Wear My Skin
4OO years I have felt the scars of the whip
400 years I fought the battle that you may be free
400 years I birth a King
400 years you shall not disgrace the name of my King
400 years I have died and return

400 years I have risen to a new day
400 years I have wore the blood in the palms of my hands
400 years I was the masters play toy and I be
dam If I shall live it through my sons.
400 years you sold my inheritance to the lynch man
400 years my sons died in the name of freedom
I be dam if you lynch me from the tree.



Deny my self of mind
There shall be no
bargaining with the devil, there is no
Reasoning that I seek
Society Program Integrity, fear of slave mentality,
extermination, destruction of a reproduction See
and self-deceptions, Black glutton walk like a King
talk like a serpent, hiding behind black face.
My back has carried the scars of civilization, the blood is
in the palms of my hand, my children are dying, I cry
rebirth, Rise me to the heavens, Rise me to the Universe.




I am tired and my back will no longer take this curse.
Freedom, Freedom, Freedom, Freedom,
Deny my self of the Universe
Ego not to small not to large
Human evolution process denied
Jump in the womb an reconnect
Love used and battered
love an hate difference
I heard God call
I got the Gun an waited
I brought you here I will take you out.
Ready to leave this earth.
Freedom a death chamber when man
Bleeds for attention, killing anything and one,
Who gets in his way?



Ignorance intimidated by intelligence,
listen how the boys call there women *****,
laughing at the morality they display,
Laying with the slave masters daughter, lynch them
under Satan authority, slave to Satan, prostitution
to the slave masters revenge
Insecurity and fear of success, a tool of destruction
When man needs to control the substance of matter,
Nevertheless if he is wrong or right
A death chamber of self ,

Eastern Wisdom an Idea between an Idea
Revolution suicide
Drug addicted society floating on air
Hero nothing but a sandwich
Living in darkness the belly of the beast
Free your self from this disgrace
Inherited family of humanity
Surrendering my life to revolution possibilities
Freedom insecurity slavery man to self


400 years


Spine less in the deception of those who kill the image of women, every women is an individual don’t judge me by your abomination, that continues to kill black hope, I am the moon, and you are the son, my children have given you your fame, and know you sell me out to the devil who signs your checks, beware what is given in just, shall be taken back from the old mighty God, I don’t willow like a snake, killing the image of black pride, beware one day that lost soul might be your daughter, and your words like a dangerous sword, the only sin I regret is loving you to much.

A fool has no delight in understanding, when the wicked shall surface, which comes in contempt, and with ignominy reproach. Better is the poor man that walks with integrity, than those who perverse in his lips, and is a fool. There is many devise within mans heart,

Nevertheless the counsel of thy God, shall stand. The just man walks with integrity; his children are blessed after him. The blood the wars that stands before, the Oh Say Can You See. Darkness that reveals a smell of rotten death, The new world order has sold its self to Satan demands. Come not with the cloak of forgiveness, when the trail of blood leads a path of the dead that can no longer speak for self. Cease no longer exists to the sons, to hear the instruction that caused to err, from the words of knowledge.

400 Years Later

Blasting Guns, Chains that sings out loud,
Killing sisters and Brothers, the hopeless child,
Subservient to a cause here my cries,
the slave of my history .
The seeds of the future, living in darkness,




You been crying to long pick up the torch
and save your self, I shall not be your punching bag
the slave trade is in hell, find your self.
The laws of miss knowing, the close mind
will only confuse you.



The slave ship of the darken
Ghetto the brothers and sisters who refuse to let go.
A hope less dreams, refusing to read singing
oh Mary don’t you weep.
Your extension is about to be deleted.
Is anybody listening?


400 Years Later

Traders to black retribution, prayers on the air,
Blink, Blink, Blink
Shaking their *** for the world to see;
Don’t be deceive the image you see
My name is black women and the only
Thing will be shaking is my tambourine
Rise my sisters you are worthy of more,


Noumi Collectives @2007​
 
Hi Sister ASHANTA
I know sis I know
We can't give up.
It is a struggle, and sometimes all we can do
at this time is remove what stones
and branches that blocks the path so that the
ones who are behind us can take the lead, when our time come
to pass the baton. feeling you sincerely
Much love to you sis.

Peace~N~Love
 

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