Black Poetry : The Fire burns in ME

tbone5769

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May 21, 2001
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In the evening…when I take time to reflect,
I inhale.. than exhale and mentally connect
to the thoughts that I chose to suppress
I suspect that there is something my mind is attempting
to eject…Could it be respect for my intellect? I thrust upon you this dialect
that is true in it’s form, so I perform my drama, for you.
Don’t ask..just put on your oxygen mask,
to protect you from the smoke and flame
as I aim this torch of knowledge not obtained in college,
Educated on the street of opportunity, survival of the wittiest, not the
prettiest, and I must confess I am neither.
But the fire burns in me.
Burns till the smoke from my belly consumes the room of doom,
and the aroma of the flame, has killed the stench of shame,
that has been placed on me and my seed.
Since we took that long boat ride, till the day we were freed,
200 hundred years later I am still in need
of an explanation of my creation and I’m waiting on the resurrection,
of my Lord to take me and mines home where we belong
but how long will this fire burn on?
The fire is burning in me.
You couldn’t see me with X-ray glasses, The blood in me is thicker than
molasses, to thick to trick, or confuse so I refuse to allow your *** to trespass
my domain. .
Only those who attempt to understand me and my reality will
see the burning amber’s, the hot coals that stay lit in my soul.
No ax to grind I’m only trying to find my way in this land.
Man oh man I don’t understand …….why people try to douse my flame…with water
and sand, causin my flame to flicker, but I take a deep sigh, so the breath of my life will cause
the smoke to grow thicker.
Been to hell….but God brought me back. So now I’m stronger for the attack
that the evil one places before me….Got him planted firmly under my feet, full of lies and deceit, I’m takin his *** back to the store cause I kept the receipt.
Swerving to avoid the potholes, that people place in front of me, dodging the limbs fallen from the great oak tree
I keep my head to the sky, when I try…I no longer cry tears of sadness but that of hope
My pain I cope but never complain and I can’t explain why God’s flame continues to flow in me, when I’m not worthy of He. But I am thankful that he is there to light the match when my flame goes out, and I’m ready for my next bout…..seems to me that’s what life is all about…..
Life….. not stressin but blessin those who need a blessing always progressing never regressing.
It’s Not about earnin my keep, or tryin to make my ends meet. It’s about my life and how it is perceived, by those
that my queen conceived, For they are my extended life…and why the fire is burning inside of me.

Copyright © 2000 T.L. Stevens
 

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