Black Poetry : Mama Bell Negro Slaves Sings The Alpha and The Omega

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by ASHANTA, Sep 2, 2003.


    ASHANTA Well-Known Member MEMBER

    United States
    Jan 15, 2003
    Likes Received:
    Brooklyn N. Y.
    I sit upon the rivers, my head covered with sweat,
    I creep through the back door,
    Continuing to keep a smile.
    Lord Nobody knows the trouble
    I have seen. Oh lord I cry out loud to thee.
    Lord Nobody knows my sorrow.
    My man in the shutter house,
    waiting to be sold, slave masters,
    raping my baby I hear the screams,
    from the shed house below,
    Lord where is the power of my man.
    I fight the battle all by my self.

    Beneath these old tired bones,
    I have cried in darkness, lord don’t leave me alone.
    The spirituals of your words, continue to allow me to go on.
    I mama of the slave masters daughter,
    I mama of the slave masters orders.
    I mama the knew trails of slaves,
    Sitting Ms. Mary’s children before my own.

    Yes’s, No sum’ all day long, Lashes on my back,
    When I have done something wrong.
    The house ****** all day long.
    Sunday meeting when master ant’s around.
    Cooking from sun up to sun down.

    Picking Cotton sun up to sun down,
    Working in the fields until my hands are blood and raw.
    Singing the old times blues, lord help me to make it,
    through another day. Waiting to meet Ms. Tub man
    At the underground railway.

    Lynching my sons from the trees,
    Sun up to the sun leaves.
    My mama is old and hands wrinkle to the bone.
    Nobody knows the trouble I have seen.
    Waiting for the cotton truck so I can
    Get away from here. The slave masters daughter
    Is waiting for me to cook for family and friends.
    Lord I cry the blood with the rake in my hands.
    Forgive me lord if I have earn this death.

    Oh mama is tired where is my man,
    To break these chains of my feet.
    Scars on my back and blood in my hands.

    I shall not die, I shall return.
    My spirits sings its own resurrection to fame.
    I have been murder through tribulations,
    but I shall return,
    Until my brothers get it right.
    The man of wisdom shall hold its own. Through the valley of death,
    Man do not understand the philosophy of a true king.
    My sisters in strength, my brothers in denial,
    I the ebony queen shall not be erase.
    My victory has succeeded before man of revenge,
    Throw stones upon my house.

    The gift to man from God. T
    he Queens of my fathers house.
    Many have been cursed ,
    those who wear my identity, but not the legacy
    Of the ebony king.
    Understanding the observation,
    of tarnished
    creation, I mama bell,
    but my mother name was women,
    Who was sacred upon Gods ground,
    fear not thy love of thee.

    Slave masters chambers I have been cursed.
    I wait for mother tub man to bring me across.
    Through the darkness of the night I shall break the chains.
    That I may be free, my babies shall no longer feel the touch
    Of the whip.

    The taste of bitter brimmed by curse.
    The thoughts that shivers the summonsed of calm.
    Visioning mans voices of love,
    pleadings of peace be still.
    Sins of human birth,
    past down the evolution of murder,
    that grows within the blood streams,
    of generations that cursed the holy grounds,
    my brothers , who will lye down and dye.
    Words of calm sings out sending thy peace,
    lord of nations of man.

    Be thou my glory all that live,
    beneath the earth I will hear.
    The fears increase thy foes.
    Ascending to the almighty God.
    The evil of man shall not claim,
    the swords of man who sings his own song.
    I felt the pain of thy Jesus,
    I black women shall not roll over.

    I shall not fear dear lord,
    the structure of capitalistic murder,
    psychological death that my enemy sets before,
    I dry my eyes dear lord,
    as my body returns to the cage.
    I give to thee, I sacrifice my life for my brother,
    that my life shall not be in vain.
    That he shall continue to carry the torch,
    of my brothers who have been caged,
    all in the name of freedom.

    Together we stand divided we fall,
    let not my death be in vain. I the warrior of tears.
  2. LovelyGoldenOne

    LovelyGoldenOne Well-Known Member MEMBER

    Apr 16, 2003
    Likes Received:
    College Student, Bookstore Clerk
    ...down south...
    wow....i'm speechless...
  3. triniti424

    triniti424 going above and beyond PREMIUM MEMBER

    United States
    May 13, 2003
    Likes Received:
    Servant of the People
    Bay Area, CA
    my sista your blessings of infinite knowledge are ALWAYS appreciated :)

    ASHANTA Well-Known Member MEMBER

    United States
    Jan 15, 2003
    Likes Received:
    Brooklyn N. Y.
    Let peace be herd that our sister died not in vein.