Voices of accomplishment and establishment
Legacy of wisdom
Challenges through opposition
Determined in recognition
Fulfillment their guarantee
Encouragement for us in the present day
Spoken words of be committed, and not estray
Knowledge theory
Fear is power teaching strength
One doesn’t know unless one tries
Draw the tears from your eyes

Understanding and be wise
Our Black Brothers and Sisters understood
We must relish under our own should
Involve and represent
There is no past tense
History becomes our history
Story within stories to come
Victory proved
Once upon a time
A world that wasn’t kind
Prove to yourself
Don’t be fooled by anybody else
Be who you are, and was meant to be
You are the realize, and the one who can energize
Propel and soar into your horizon and destiny

Marvel Legacy voices speak for themselves
They had value and so do we
Those many voices today and well into tomorrow
Their motto, “Stand on purpose, and contribute to your own cause”
Will can show you the way
Stepping stone your get way
Our Black Forefathers will be watching
Achieve and don’t be deceived
Imagine the wonder and be confident while thinking yonder.

Pink and red
and a mix of the two;
long stemmed
and cut
set neatly in the vase.
I already picked
two of the petals
that had fallen
and placed them in between
the pages of a book
to keep.
I got flowers for Valentines Day
for the first time
as an adult
and it feels really good.

Death comes an infant
Biting on the breast.
A nightɓirds's call...
a weighted chest.

Death comes a jester.
How he cavorts!
Kings and Queens laugh
And reign in his court.

They jeer his antics!
They do... for now.
But in the end

THEY SHALL ALL BOW.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/28/2017

Life is a series of tiring verbs
as I wade through the
ashes of orchids.
I'm a vagabond with
a ragged soul
coming for you *******
a lonesome road.
I float aimless,
like an acorn in
a mountain stream.
The death of dreams smells
like autumn leaves,
lonely as driftwood.

Home is not going to be
a white door at the
end of a sidewalk.
It's bigger and broader,
and can't fit behind a
fence and walls.
It will always be the
sum of my
memories and longings.

Home is walking the streets,
hand in hand,
with our son on my shoulders.
Home is lying in
the grass with your
fingers in my beard, and hope
oozing from your blue eyes.
It's eating sushi and laughing at
our accidental touch of hands,
reaching together for
the last California roll;
avocado safe at
a sun-dappled table.

I'm drifting lost on
a southern wind.
When I'm with you again,
wherever that is,
I'll be home.

Blue Note Special
Your ears were trumpets
Your teeth were keys
Your eyes were drums
Their rhythms cease
Behind them the color
Of disease
Blue note special
There is no peace.

Your hands were golden
Your feet were clay
Your head was sodden
Your hips were grey.
Your legs were green
You paid your way
Now all we can do
Is sit and pray


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
  And were the skies of parchment made;
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
  And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above
  Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
  Though stretched from sky to sky.

"The Love of God"
This is the last stanza of the old hymn. It was said to be written on the wall of an asylum. But the author is unknown.

The Star of Hope has died,
But there is no reason to cry:
Beautiful stars leave stunning Nebulae.