Black Poetry : Teach Me How To Fly

ASHANTA

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Jan 15, 2003
1,859
74
Brooklyn N. Y.
Teach Me How To Fly


I spread my wings upon the sky
Each time I rise the world pulls me down
I reach upon the chariot and sing the songs of my ancestors
The thunder is just to loud
I wave my hand upon the belly of the beast
My feet are tired every time I touch the mountain
My feet begins to slip upon me, and loose my balance to reach the top.
The shade beneath my feet
The ebony upon my face
The bounty that I search
A man who will carry me across
Brother man teach me how to fly.

I give to you my greatest as thee in me as thee in you
I sing the song of unity, and dance the song of opportunity
I play the talking drums, brother man teach me how to fly.
I lay the golden script that your spirit will connect
I play the harp of sweet jasmine and burned the innocence
Of love that I may fly. Brother man teach me how to fly.

The birds flap there wings, the airplane flies and waves
The butterflies leap and play, the humming birds
Sings a joyful noise, the angels prepare a place
The unity that plays within the skies, the birds that fly
Upon my head, the nest where rebirth began
The heavens that sways from side to side
The thunder and rain subside
Gods eyes is the sun, brother man
Teach me how to fly.
 
I Got The Blue Print To Sing The Blues

I Got The Blue Print To Sing The Blues

My man he don’t love me
The man is so dam mean
I give him every thing I have
He continues to play me for a fool
Lord knows I got the right to sing the blues
My mama done told me girl this man
Was going to give me a whole lot of pain
I turn my back on my mama and my entire best friend
Lord I got the blue print to sing the blues

If my man treated me right
I would stay home all day and night
Mama I got the blue print to sing the blues.
The man don gone, and left me
With the bag in my hands
So I sit with a bottle of wine
I play those sad songs
So whom do I have to blame
This crazy thing they call love
Mama don had the blue print
All the time, making the same mistakes
Mama an’t got not hen but the blue
Print on my mind.
 

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