Black Poetry : Fugitive Slave Your Time Is Limited Upon This Earth, Ain't Know Hiding Place

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by ASHANTA, Mar 12, 2006.

  1. ASHANTA

    ASHANTA Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    The blood that runs from my veins, 100 years
    later, I shall free my self, I shall run to the
    mountain, I shall been upon my knees, I shall
    take the lashing of the world, I shall not
    stand still, I shall call upon my brothers,
    and meet at the table with my sisters,
    I shall run through the fields, of the black
    liberation, I shall run no longer shall I
    stand still, until I bring my people to
    the mountains, I the mother Moses’ ,
    I the Malcolm X, I the Medgar, I the Salasi,
    Marcus Garvey, Heuy, Soldiers of freedom,
    and face lace warriors, the hunters up close
    with their unwilling horses, the lord said in
    thunder be still, and the journey was once more.
    If I blind my eyes with tears, I will not
    see the light, If I groan to loud, I will
    no longer hear my ancestors as they call.

    I the slave that stood, could run no longer, I then stood by
    the fence, and the charted black
    bricks, blowing a breath for all those
    who came before me, panting for my
    ancestors who stood before the tree,
    covered with sweat as each tear,
    written in blood, the blue print the
    map that will set me free, and covered with sweat,
    my eyes that burns ,defiance and desperation, hatred
    And the bullets that ring upon my head,
    the loose that hang upon my neck,
    I shall not stand still, I slowly fall upon
    my knees’ a loud voice came from the sky,
    like thunder, prove your loyalty to me,
    I thy God, I have given to thee, my son,
    and the mastery of the skies, spoke it said
    run my son, run, your journey is almost done,
    and the thong among my neck,
    and the burns of my risk.


    I fail upon my knees, and the loud thunder said again, you are almost their, take your people upon the land of the free, how the twinges that sting like needles, the charted skin, burning from over a 100 years, and the spirits that slowly contained my body, and the sun that I run a trail, and savior said; son you are almost their, take your people home, and the almighty God said in a thunder, Keep your eyes on the eye of the sun, it will guide you across, The murderous disk that lye upon the mind, planted like a root, determined to live, he not only sees; but he is the hunted slave, who refuse to be free, so I run upon the black rivers and heal my self of the rooted clutches, and the lord look down, and broke the curse of the implanted chains, to keep me in slavery, the lord said just a little more longer my son, your journey is almost ended;

    Clutches the rail of the tree. my blood oozes
    from each palm, as the locks of my head smelled
    as innocence, and the smooth blackness of ebony,
    And in the darkness a voice of a swan, and the tears that lye
    Upon my bronze skin, as I fell upon my knees, I cried upon
    The lord, in mastery the light stood before me, and Jesus the Son
    Fail upon his knees and said, your journey is
    over, I am you, and you are me, you have taken
    a journey, you are now free.


    noumiartscollection @all rights reserved Aka Ashanta (Warrior)​
     
  2. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    another tyte drop
     
  3. nevar

    nevar Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    tell it sister i hear ya. now gone and the let the church say amen. its getting hot pens on fire Ashanta. Pen is on fire. do continue on.
     
  4. Tantrum

    Tantrum Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Your a very deep poet
    The journey isnt over
    Loved the history and the message
    Much Love Poet
     
  5. ASHANTA

    ASHANTA Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    I am humble thank you
     
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