"If you think you know it all, i would
suggest you keep things to yourself."

I watched my neighborhood park
undergo a transformation
on a warm autumn morning
that carried the smell of dew and maple
the sun peeked through the trees
reflecting off the yellows reds and oranges
illuminating them
till you could swear they had caught fire
crisp air threw amber leaves skyward
raining down like golden confetti
to be collected for jumping into
by the laughing children

Every day my welts bleed
Like the day I was suspended
In the fourth grade
For disrupting the learning
Process of the other children
  
No child should be sent home for that
No child should be sent home after that
No child should be sent home back to that
No child should know this pain
  
Mother said I was faking it
  
I try to sleep at night
Lying there
My welts still bleeding

Odonata , your timing is impeccable
Gracing my window with colorful perfection
Restoring my faith in the human condition
Chasing the Hummers with buzzing emotion
Doubling back to start as if your craving my devotion
Bluedart Skimmer it's getting late , return to your
abode along placid Port Lake
Lie still beside shore with the departure of day and
thank you once again for your enchanting ways* ....

Blistering asphalt , chemical burnt
eyes with two tiny clouds in the Northern
sky
A hundred degrees on a concrete island
with choking exhaust , hoping not to get rammed
by hurried people that really don't give a ****
Rushing with debit cards to grab whatever
the robots are pushing at the local 'bazaar'
Picking through cans , trolling vegetables
Sparrows have made their way in to watch
We must look quite 'bizarre' indeed* ....

The same ones who's afraid of
Of the black man is also afraid of poetry
And why are they afraid of poetry?

One might say because of the sound.
They are afraid of the black race,
Who God has blessed let no man curse
One might wonder why: Oh my God, Why?
I definitely think it because of the sounds.
The whispering sound of the wind,
the sound of tortures soul being dragged off into the night
chain, being dragged, video cameras flashing and recording ,

The unsettled soul of their ancestors wicked deals haunts them daily.
The loud bewitching sound of the African drums that echo in their mind,
The tainted blood of the guilty flows in their veins,

However, when would it stop?
When would their accepted that
Guilt, shame and embarrassment are universal emotions
that are among the most painful of human experiences one could ever endure

That guilt travel thought-out history, the black race will rise again
Another man down!
Another input for the history books.
Another march on Washington DC
Certain sounds scares us............