Black Poetry : Fugitive Slave

ASHANTA

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Jan 15, 2003
1,859
74
Brooklyn N. Y.
Fugitive Slave


The blood that runs from my veins,
100 years slavery, 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 upon 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 white hair
Smelled of 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, and the tree bark
that held my body,
and the ropes begin to desolve,
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.





@2005 copywrite
Noumi Collectives
Jacqueline Amos​
 

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