Black Poetry : The Spirit Of Rising

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by ASHANTA, May 20, 2005.

  1. ASHANTA

    ASHANTA Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Herein lie buried many things truth, Looking through a microscopic chamber of disasters, if read with patience, slowly the time rehash the solitude of disasters, living in a ravaging society, black codes of silence, crying freedom when the enemy wears the same face as I, shall I close my self into and insolating summary? Shall I look upon the death chambers, without recovery, implementing the strange meaning of being black in the black chambers of the Twentieth Century. This meaning shall be the historical death of black roots It is not without interest to many who continues to live in denial, the problem of the Twentieth Century is the problem of the extension of black roots. I am where I am because of the bridges that I crossed.

    Identity cries upon the souls of black face, searching far and beyond, to identify with earthly Gods, when the spirit of beauty lies within self; Where the lost stars search for beauty, in the abomination of fire, the beauty that lies within becomes un discovered, the heavens cry as the soul cries, of inheritances, the treasures were documented in the books of life. I had crossed the line. I was free; but there was no one to welcome me to the land of freedom. I was a stranger in a strange land as the gun shots rings out, living in a prison, with bars upon my door, watching man in black face, that he would not rob me of my worldly goods, embracing prayer as he walked behind me, never showing fear, black boys with rags upon their heads, my war was over I Once thought, as I watched the white man, who hanged me from the tree, walking in my homeland, I embraced freedom as I put my key in my front door, only to realize I am a prisoner in my own home. Slavery in a strange land call, ghettos love.
    We saw the lightning and that was the guns; and then we heard the thunder and that was the big guns; In a place call Brooklyn , and then we heard the rain falling and that was the blood falling; and when I turn around to get in the door, it was dead men that we reaped. The cannons that cried the blood, the children of death that we call the hood, the mothers of darkness we call, abomination of the womb, the fathers we call death to roots, the liberty that cried blind justice the assisted to death,


    If I must live in a cage, let me sacrifice my spirit in the name of change, justice, pride and dignity, if I must be incarcerated as a criminal, let me stand in my on convictions, if I must be incarnated my entire life, let it be death in silence , I have given in the name of prosperity, I shall give as my brother Jesus upon the cross, If I must go back to Mississippi the spirits cry from the grave, go back to Alabama, where my people fought to free the minds that were subjected to chains, where have we come, as a people to understand the sacrifice of black struggles, and the emancipation, the right to live, under the proclamation, freedom among the free, to understand that freedom comes through the righteousness of Gods law ,go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, we live the mockery once more, go back to the slums and ghettos of our death chambers, death by Ghetto chains, cities, as our children are lynching themselves, and we cry slavery no more, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. How can man change if there is no leadership, under the contention of destruction. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. If we don’t get it right this time, one time on the clock, I say to you that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I condemn the darkness that lives upon our house a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the strolls of our ancestors. When we let freedom ring.

    When we let it ring from every village and every nation, bonding the circle of Nubian love, from every state and every city, we will be able to see love through one another eyes, speed up that day when all of God's children, black roots will come together as one, we cannot save a nation, until we look deeper within self, we cannot change the thoughts of man, until we change self, we cannot teach our children, until we teach the inheritance of what it is to be proud and stand with dignity, a child reacts only to what he see, so the blame game must stop, if you can’t clean our own house, how can you lead another? I have a dream that one day black roots will rise into another level of contentions to free the chains that we condemn ourselves, and our children shall feel the rapture of our own genocide, assisted by self death, this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning black humanities: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created and accountable for self.
    I have a dream that one day mothers take control off their families, and give them spiritual growth, to live by the codes of our God, without them, life will be toxins, and every new birth shall be the destruction of her roots, I have a dream that mothers accountabilities to her man, shall bond in the name of culture, and her children be the rewards of her labor, that every father renew their bond with their children, in the name of black hope, transformed into a situation where black boys and black girls will be able to join hands in family traditions.
    All the hateful powers of the singing death, ghetto pride death to self, Children cry out loud, the world striving against him, and a spirit of anger and revenge fills his heart. He call death, the ragging bullets fly, in anger he takes another life, revenge on the hope of black roots, when selfish he lies, crying to be save, as black roots sits silently with no defense, slowly he dies, within self, and the apprehensions to take as many as he can, oh the darkness of fertility, the murder of liberty, the un consciousness’ of survivals, in a dungeon call belligerency, exorcism and witchcraft, the mysterious, and blood-sacrifice even, now and then, of human victims. Gangs of JuJu sacrifice, to kill are demeaned all in the name of black magic. To teach separatisms contaminate the bond between souls, if I cut of my right hand, the abundance of my work shall be limited, If I pluck out my right eye, I could only see from left side, it I cut off my heritage, I shall walk alone without history, when God said man and woman, he had no deceptions in what he command, when we terminate the laws of God, we terminate the laws of Self.
    @2004
     
  2. Poetrymama

    Poetrymama Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    re:Spirit

    Ashanta, This is a write all our people need to read. Excellent.
     
  3. ASHANTA

    ASHANTA Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    blessings my sister poet I am reaching out to the world in another form, continue to walk with me in your spirit of creations, blessings be upon our house, as we walk in the light of God.
     
  4. AHMOSE

    AHMOSE Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Exceptional piece.
    Thanx for sharing..
     
  5. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    tru indeedthis one we all need to river in \
    tyte write poetess
     
  6. watzinaname

    watzinaname Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    The best way to lead is by example, we can't ask of others what we are unwilling to put forth ourselves. Keep flowing with that deep meaning sis.
     
  7. ASHANTA

    ASHANTA Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    blessings my brother and sisters thank you for your comments, we are all one.
     
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