I surrender to the God of liberty
who makes me lie down in eternal love,
and the malice-infested swamps
dive in my peace
trying to impurify the
esteem of my being.
Here stands a society ready
to annihilate me
their guns point with rage
trying to contradict my black skin
into the depths of sin
I am not a badge of shame.
I always kept myself locked in
became a fiend of my own mind
suppressed in the name
of slavery and injustice
my roots were planted in a dry harvest.
My heart is worn out,
dogged up is my throat
when my speech is unable
to cultivate the capacity of my ethnicity.
Where is the pride?
Where is the peace?
Stay woke, my people.
We need to develop
inherent worth and dignity
resist conformity of the regime
revive our immortal spirits
and begin to breathe in the cosmic of superiority and solidarity.
Black people, we are magic.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 11:24 PM UTC
silent tears resemble a woeful creature
silent tears carries the loudest pain
silent tears brings pursuit of happiness.
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
Elohim, The Great
infernal affairs in your creation
reign over this madness.
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 3:40 AM UTC
Lives killed by the creation
Pathological action againsty humanity
Where is the peace?
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 2:11 AM UTC
The murk of society
engraving mortal deprivity
ruining the presence of peace.
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC
Last Friday night
across a summer’s night
the moonlit afire of cosmic presence
endured a promise of good peace.
As I entered my home, 9.13PM
I received a text from my dad
informing me that he’s been
involved in a car accident.
My flesh was worn out
from the day’s activities,
and melancholy added pressure
to my bloodstreams due to
my dad’s unfortunate event.
I could feel uncertainty
filling my unconscious mind,
drowning in sadness ‘cause
for the past six years
its been a normality for him;
facing insurance policies, getting medical treatment, a few calls
from family and friends ...
and he’s okay.
I threw a heavy stone
in my heart
and it broke me,
tears kissed my face
and I cleansed my soul with them.
Few minutes later he texted:
“in 20 min. time I’ll be home,”
and I wondered if this will
happen for the sixth time,
if he’ll survive another tragedy.
But whispers of hope said,
“you’re blessed, he’s blessed. be grateful. all is well.”
And I was okay.
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 9:18 AM UTC
You are made more precious than fine gold
spiritually refined in the essence of being bold
Worthy you are
A light reflection of the cross of Calvary
A masterpiece of a raw art gallery
Worthy you are.
Sweet child, free your mind
You carry two arms; your will and mind
Divinity is a mystery of your faith
A spiritual reflection of God’s grace
Allow yourself to be uplifted
Allow God within you, and be gifted.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 11:16 PM UTC
Love is the root of missions
and sacrifice the fruit of missions
Glory to the anointed King
the creator of a chosen offspring.
Ever so delighted to be enlightened
by the ignited spirit that is heightened
from the light rays of a new dawn
til the warrior within is born
The essence of being radical
is the will of good
the conceptual of a root
rooted and built in God’s image
a fully-fledged seed of Abraham
As Apostle Paul’s spirit
overflown with thanksgiving
his objective was to implement change
strengthen our faith and live in peace
Pieces of greenpeace
misunderstood by malicious-minded creatures
I recall hollowness
dearly engraved in the
hearts of many
superficial increment in
today’s youth
often inferiorated from the truth
they’re spiritually pretendin’
to be naturally defendin’
Oh, lily of the valley
make their minds pure.
Do you ever wonder how God sees you?
A radical Christian who’s simply a quality
of a New Testament normality
it is in your core to be pure,
to be called by the Lion’s roar,
to not live but to live who’s in you.
Apostle Paul’s awakening
was radical
thought-provoking sensation
as being biblical
the words he spoke were profound
his temple so refined
yet his view on earthly living
was actively passive to godliness;
to live is Christ
and to die is gain, he said.
The ideology of being radical
is to live in the sense God created you to be
politically and socially,
its force is to make you philanthropic
boldly empathic to the notion of being rhapsodic.
I am artistic
poetic instincts in the fullness
of embodying metamorphoristic mystic.
Theology unfolds a mystery that
we should be the change we want to see
a generation that profiteth free
a ministry holistic as can be.
Be vigilant.
Be diligent.
Be practical.
Be radical.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
When I was 4
my folks would say
I was born a human fireball
I graced the presence of the
people in my hood with
rhythmic movements of dance.
5, 6 ...
I never grasped into the knowledge of music, until
I played some neo-soul records
in my aunt’s home
was it love that I was developin’?
or a passion I was embracin’?
or both? only God knew.
Literature came to light as
I was 7, always in my phase
of knowing the unknown.
Teen spirit fever
causing a ravishing sight
in my 13 as I opened my eyes to the beauty behind art.
15 was my age for
my spirit to fit in
creative waters flowing from within
the deepest ocean of my heritage.
I am 17 now, with poetry as my sightseeing forest, freedom in the cultivating mantra of peace,
a peace of mind causing refinement in the living of my soul.
I am 17, an artist,
ready to sanctify my heart and
awaken my generation
in the path enlightened
with wisdom and love.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
I was a free spirit.
At the age of 4 child’s play
was my joy and weakness.
When I was 5 it never
mattered to be 6.
Between 7 and 10, reflection
of mother nature was born in me
like a half-fledged thing
I found security in materialistic image,
became nothing in Messiah’s kingdom
walked in the depth of recurring death
I was 11 then ...
with tears of anxiety and deep depression.
I reached 12
tall in flesh but little and empty inside
I hid from textbook illusions and false affection from loved ones.
13 became 16 in a split second;
lessons became a routine than
blessings building from within.
I make countless of mistakes,
constantly reminiscing over the good and bad trials of my life cycle
when I should be progressing
and indulging my vision
how typical!
17 is an era I make up for everything
I am because God is
and it’s time I revolutionalize my generation
because my spirit is timeless, and my time is now!
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC