Hello, I'm a newbie and I'm checking out poetry sites on the net. HBO Def Jam is pretty cool...they have a nice flow over there. Owed to the Black Man Why do black men sink when they should rise? Smoke from a volcano floats, dead leaves broken off glide, why don’t black men rise? Inconsistence glows brightly through darkness. Its principles appear divine. Black men have proven they love unconditionally. With money the woman is white and when he is no more prosperous than egocentric piss on a stool she is as black as the widow spider confounded by her own web. They leave mothers to raise their sons and nurture their daughters alone like the pistol and pollen of the same flower. So that children are not unique- they make the same mistakes as both mother and father. Solid earth pushes up into mountains whose peaks plunge into blue sky. In the ocean fluid canyons open and towers of foam climb high Why don’t black men rise? He is strong but he is young. If I take his hand the world expands beneath him. But when we stand apart warlike herbs dare to shrink us. Sometimes I see the world as a rose. So beautiful from the top, but at bottom a thorny scrape standing in the way of our very instincts to rise up. Yet, there is where the meaning of a rose lies. I greatly dream his heart is darker than blackberries, black swans, or the universe upholding planets. That his soul is not a specter disembodied forming the shadows of black history, but that it lives! It is still within his brown skin, and startled awake as he awakens it in me! Why can’t he see it in my ebony blush? An ear to my nature would not deny how I am tormented to understand and worship him by design. Rise, black man, arise! Why does the black man sink? Because he is a statue. A hard, cold, memory of a man I loved, a man who was protector and cared in spite of being forever at war with himself and the world. A man who died, unexpectedly. I do not know what killed the black man. What disemboweled his virtues, tormented him thoughtless, extinguished his courage, demoralized his morals, put out the flames of his heart and scattered his ashes in the deep blue sea. Or what ravaged the sacred love for his second self, for me. I only know that the black man is dead and now many more men are following him.