Black Poetry : Soul On Ice - An Epic Poem of Black Youth

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by ~Provakativ~, Mar 25, 2004.

  1. ~Provakativ~

    ~Provakativ~ Active Member MEMBER

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    I look outside
    and see that strange fruit
    and hear voices
    Voices from waaaaaay back when
    where ashen faces and Djibouti dances were a way of life

    But now, the shackles have arrived...
    So cold...and so forebearing

    The fruit is swaying
    The storm is gathering

    And the fire is frozen into indefinate animation
    And I hear the lyrics of hip hop prophets
    from "In the Event of my Demise" to "Sky's the Limit"

    In the Event of my Demise....as my heart can beat no more
    I hope I lived for a principle or a belief I have lived for
    And as I hear the Amaru language and as I hear the Small's reply

    "Sky's the Limit..just keep on pressin on, sky is the limit don't you know that you can have what you want...be what you want"

    Tears come to my eyes
    And mingle with the rain
    Of reality

    And the thunder booms
    and the lightning strikes like Fireworks on the 4th of July

    Bright and slowly dimming away
    Like the hopes ad dreams of so many
    Like the Sisyphus complex

    Bright at the top, and dimming to the bottom
    Once that hope disappeared into the concrete

    The rock being everyday life...there it goes and there it went
    The only light being that lightning
    The wind howling

    The wind howling with voices from the past
    Angry
    Saddened
    "Why have we died? What was the point"
    "Freedom!!! Was it all in vain"
    And the voices get louder and brighter and mix together and become one
    "Why accept things how they are when they are not where they ought to be?"
    And the crying....
    And the crying....

    Doesn't quiet

    It's dark....
    It's dark....
    and that strange fruit is swaying in the tree...
    Left to right....
    With a stump at the top...
    And it's juices freely flowing from decaying spots of flesh.....

    It's dark...and the storm is still raging and all is quiet....
    In my eyes....
    I pick the fruit from the tree....it's cold and I shiver
    I turn the fruit over...and the face looking back...

    Was Me...

    Lightning strikes again...and the orchard is revealed
    Strange Fruit swinging

    Strangled by insecurities
    The winds blowing strong
    wiping the tears from my eyes

    The Orchard begins to moan....
    And I..and my orchard...
    Begin the event of demise

    The Storm howls again and here am I...
    My head bloodied trying to be unbowed

    Fighting
    Shadows in the dark
    Fighting...trying to see the dawn of light...
    Trying and fighting
    With a noose thrown around my neck
    It scratches me...it scratches my flesh

    the noose tightens
    I close my eyes....
    I struggle...I struggle...
    and put my soul on ice
     
  2. baller

    baller Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    as darkness falls...

    upon a weary soul
    the cold of night
    the fright
    sending wind blown
    c
    h
    i
    l
    l
    s
    along guilt ridden
    s
    o
    u
    l
    s
    of old
    and the chorus sang of
    strange fruit
    that swung in the night
    each night
    every night
    the cold winds blows
    and howls
    along
    orchard's
    row

    strange fruit.


    A BEAUTIFULLY ORCHESTRATED RIVER. THANKS FOR SHARING.
     
  3. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    a tale of the sweet release
    very well done poet !
     
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