Health and Wellness : Beautiful Young Black Man

Discussion in 'Black Health and Wellness' started by BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE, Jan 4, 2014.

  1. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

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    He who knows his roots,
    not from words,
    but ground up,
    seeds kept,
    water flows,
    he knows,
    the streams,
    by himself,
    the reflection,
    is beauty,
    strength,
    endurance,
    universal,
    peaceful,
    times,
    he shall,
    reap.

    He who knows his seeds,
    he feels with intuition,
    one with weathers,
    and all seasons,
    a non-participant in their lives,
    a master over his mind,
    a kind smile,
    a healer,
    protector of his emotions,
    so may the waters still,
    plant his seeds,
    so may the land,
    be beautified to his taste,
    no best unto the all's taste,
    the vibration of peace,
    a natural rhythm,
    within all stereotyped struggles,
    beautiful young black man,
    who only grow older,
    with wisdom and not age,
    the younger his spiritual essence,
    produces an everlasting sage,
    we need him today,
    yesterday and tomorrow,
    we need more of his kind,
    brother to cousin,
    blood to water,
    runs deeper than creeks,
    streams turn into rivers,
    deltas and mouths,
    out come oceans with seas,
    the dream come true,
    backed by confidence,
    held highly by heaven's esteem.

    (Real Poetry)
     
  2. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

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    Sea,
    eye need myself,
    the inner voice,
    speak outward,
    echos coming back,
    vibrates my xylophones,
    the skeletal system,
    from feet to hips,
    hips to ribcage,
    ribcage to spine,
    spine to skull,
    skull to face,
    ears to knees,
    we stand upright,
    as one,
    a rose above,
    a rose below,
    i walk as rose,
    i yearn better waters,
    the purer they are,
    the best i am,
    my leafs are rough,
    though soft me grow,
    with wield of toughness,
    i dig into fertile ground,
    plant myself steep,
    not so shallow,
    cover myself up,
    breeze came in,
    who are you,
    wrapped around me,
    strengthen answers,
    carry my voice,
    into the distant,
    make you me,
    air of reason,
    enslaved to none,
    equality for self,
    sums beauty,
    from within,
    young black man.

    (Real Poetry)
     
  3. BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE

    BLAQ LOVE POURAHTREE Nefertum Husia Shayheh MEMBER

    Country:
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    Touching my skies,
    i don't need your cigarettes,
    i don't need your alcohol,
    i don't need your symptoms,
    i don't need your subtle education,
    i don't need your false relationships,
    i don't need your sub-consciousness,
    i don't need your traps,
    i don't need your condoms,
    i don't need your fast food chains,
    i don't need your television,
    i don't need your history,
    i don't need your herstory,
    i don't need your synthesis drugs,
    i don't need your military,
    i don't need your sympathy,
    i don't need your gimmicks,
    i don't need the unrealness,
    i don't need the sex,
    i don't need the conversations of lies,
    i don't need your skeletons,
    i don't need your sexuality,
    i don't need your pollution,
    i don't need your rules,
    i don't need your laws,
    i got my own from above to below,
    i need my own land for self-sufficiency,
    i don't need your monopoly,
    i don't need your words of emptiness,
    i got silence to hear from soon,
    the most natural healing sound available,
    i don't need your music,
    my heart beat musekhet rhythms per second,
    i need solar power,
    i need the moon when i'm sleepy,
    i need my honey and roses,
    i need my plush blades of grasses,
    i need my clay so i can walk smoothly,
    i need water for my vegetation,
    i need winds to show me my furthest ways,
    they whisper intelligence never heard before,
    i need earth to shelter my body,
    i need to return back home like shooting star,
    across the hues commanded,
    from the top of the tree,
    aspired as my own inspiration,
    my spoken word butterflies,
    touching my skies high.

    (Real Poetry)
     
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