"emancipation" poems
I enjoy distance
Long drives with no destination
Music blaring, miles growing
I enjoy distance
Long walks to nowhere
The peace calms my restless soul
I enjoy distance
Little steps each day
Away from difficult situations
I enjoy distance
Between people and places
And me
I enjoy distance
It gives perspective
Emancipation
I enjoy distance
I also enjoy coming home
When distance has run its course
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
Garments stripped from worn bones and weary mind
Feet dragged on tile; hands grasp plastic veil
Stepping into a tub; near swoon divine
A pure, naked self emancipation,
before the squeaking running metalware
that erases the daily equation.
Dancing, singing tunes of own devices:
Cupid, Shooting Star, Sister Golden Hair
Rocky Mountain High, American Pie
****** bosses gonna kiss ***** here
Astronauts, cowboys, and rockstars meet here
Best yet, the individual is here
Although merely hidden by a curtain,
all for your view is but a damp shadow.
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 4:46 PM UTC
I came to liberate lions from dungeons
I came to share and not stare at you
I came to actualize powers within me
I intend to distribute resources equally
I came to reiterate that all beings are beautiful
I came to make an impact like mountains do
I came to create music with my attitude
I intend that symphonies surround me with their melodies
I intend that children feel safe to open up to me
I came to empower dancers in perpetual motion
I intend to be a witness to the miracles of life’s radiance
I came to scream love songs into forests
I came to hear my own voice echoed by hollow caverns
I intend to create portals that we can travel through
I came to bring back the aurora borealis at all latitudes
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 12:42 PM UTC
In my mind, I raced against time
I smoked peyote with the Apache
I chased Kangaroos
Through the bush with the Aborigine
All the while
...I searched for the power within me
In my mind, I outpaced time
I drew cave art with the Neanderthal
I climbed to the top of the mountain with the Sherpa
I hunted seal out on the frozen tundra with the Inuit
All the while
...I searched for the power within me
In my mind, I eclipsed time
I wrote poetry while under the tutelage of Langston Hughes
And I created visual greatness while apprentice to Gordon Parks
I even stood on the wall with Che' Guevara, like a Sentry standing watch
All the while
...I continued searching for the power within me
In my mind, I turned to face time
I wrote an addendum to the Emancipation Proclamation
And I saw the ugly truths
Of freedom's farcical Declaration
All the while
...I continued searching for the power within me
In my mind, I embraced time
I sought to free my nation from the pandemic perils of *******
And I prayed that we Americans would be free of
The snares of racial and economic divide that still has us chained
I did this while searching for truth, in this, our most tenuous hour
...then empyreally, God reached for me, touching me, and I finally found my power
* Reprinted from 'Exegesis a Decade of Poetry by Mekael'
© July 14, 2009 by Mekael Shane
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
The greatest demonstration of freedom in the history of the nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation.
A great beacon light of hope.
Seared in the flames of withering justice.
One hundred years later, the ***** still is not free.
We’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check.
This note was the promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white, men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned.
Now is the time to make real promises of democracy.
Now is the time to make injustice a reality for all of God’s children.
There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the ***** is granted his citizen rights.
In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations.
You have been veterans of creative suffering.
Go back, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
I say to you today, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream.
A deeply rooted american dream.
A dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”
I have a dream where little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the context of their character.
I have a dream today!
That little black boys and girls, will be able to join hands with little white boys and girls as brothers and sisters.
I have a dream today!
The rough places will be plain and the crooked places will be made straight, “and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together."
This is our hope.
This is the faith I go back with.
With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood.
When we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children --- black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics --- will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old ***** spiritual, “Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last.”
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 8:26 AM UTC
There is a new fire
in my soul
its curves
wrap themselves
around me
sinuous
like a hot
slithery
sheath of flesh
snakes of pleasure
twirling in my deepest
womanflow
pumping inside
my veins of mesh
Those licks of flames
caress as they spew
they **** in my spirit
spit it out anew
undulating hips
matching my own
a middle east song
igniting my bones
suffusing my blood
with the raw, the bare
filling me up
with sparkling lava,
so rare
This combination
makes for a recipe hot
like a piquant ghost pepper
in my spiciest spot
Now let me weave words
Let me conjure your
liquids
let me drench colors
upon your eyelids,
my spirit's
proximity vivid
Let me drown you in
madness
in frothiest frequencies
of love
let this symphony play out
powers screeching above
and as this vivacity beckons
the soul in your eyes
our stormiest spirals
will spill out rainbow fire
and rise
for as we grow and reach out
there is a death of limitation
as freedom breaks out
in ocean-soaked
emancipation
Our mutual worlds
heal each other's hurts
as my tongue licks
your wounds
rejuvenation asserts
hot springs of
lifeflow
filling up cells
sensations of textures
a ringing of bells
So
as I weave this spell
around you
fear not that you
will disappear or
thine own self lose
for we have only to soar
as we
coax out
the muse
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC
July 4th is a Holiday filled with celebration,
Complete with BBQs and Fireworks
And exclamations of "Happy Independence day"
But people seem to fail to add the asterisk at the end
The hidden meaning, the fine print, the text between the lines if you will.
Because July 4th is not everyones's independence day.
July 4th only signifies the independence of a particular group of people
A group of people who fought for their freedom, but didn't allow it in their own back yards.
When these people were out celebrating their independence, my ancestors, my family, where in fields, working, in houses trying to stay alive
My women trying to stay away from their masters ****** them-
Whoops, sorry, I meant "Celebrating."
So what reason do I have to call July 4th my independence day?
If anything, my independence day is December 16th, the ratification of the 13th amendment
Or Juneteenth
Or January 1st, the day that the emancipation proclamation was ratified.
So while everyone else is celebrating the New Year, I think about what else that day has brought
Brought about the freedom of a people, my people.
Made them citizens, made them real, made them free.
Well, kinda free.
We've come so far.
And of course, I am not trying to blame white people today for what happened in the past, they should not be held accountable for the actions of the people from whom they've descended
But instead I want my black brothers and sisters to think, to remember, where we are coming from.
So yes, I hope everyone has a happy independence day*
Just keep in mind that it's not mine.
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
like a good poet, I whine and whinny:
the muses are unreliable, get too much paid vacation,
unlimited unpaid, and pretend their cells are out of range,
even when they are in bed with you and you’re near desperate
to cop a feel of inspiration
my problem is a variation on the theme. Everyday I jot down
too many possibilities, a handful of words added to the list of
pound bound childless titles, sad faced orphans, dogs and cats,
squeaking “pick me, pick me,”
our reply a casual
“you on the list” rather than admit they are titled, but bodiless
until cupid smashes a cupcake in my face and the bell rings
there they stand - at a friendless crossroads - direction home,
path unknown, awaiting a poet tour guide to complete them
if this sounds a bit like a bad achy breaky country song,
then you and I, on the same side of where I could be headed
cause at the friendless crossroads, always unsure, left foot first? that first line, first step, could be a false messiah,
or a free-at-last, a free-at-last emancipation
but there are no sidelines in a forest there no sidelines in a poet’s mind; there are the minefields of mindfulness that can explore explode and explain why it is tempting to believe that every gifted one deserves a break today
but you cannot be broken or break off from the community
“Hillel said: Do not separate yourself from the community; and do not trust in yourself until the day of your death. Do not judge your fellow until you are in his place. Do not say something that cannot be understood but will be understood in the end. Say not: When I have time I will study because you may never have the time”
my friend,
substitute writing poetry for study, for study is for us the analysis of everything, that is, everything we say, see and know the need to communicate
so
those who abide in the life of good words will not suffer an abdication (yours)
do not think
there are friendless crossroads,
there are only crossroads that the eye cannot yet see a fellow sojourner coming toward him,
bearing an oversized load of
the inside insight of responsibility
that demands sharing
that is why we call our meetings at
a crossroads,
a cross
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
I need no introduction.
I am seduction.
I lead you astray,
I let you play.
I bring satisfaction.
I need dedication.
I am Eve.
I am Don Juan.
I am Casanova.
I am neither male nor female.
I am ****** emancipation.
I am all that you want and more
Hear me moan,
better still hear me roar!
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
(athena)
the sweaty, jacked-up summer is approaching quick
fired from the mouth of april
like a bullet from a handgun
(aphrodite)
we are fast, beautiful
***** like gasoline on someone’s palm
***** like fences that hold gardens of shredded tires
***** like blood dried on the sidewalk in the shape of a
tightened fist
(athena)
***** sneakers and ***** hair
(aphrodite)
with shampoo that never got washed all the way out
(athena)
***** because of how we love
(aphrodite)
sharp-beautiful-longing!
(athena)
with our hands on other girls’ knees and thighs
like birds out of their cage
or the statue of liberty punching her light
into a sky that holds as much desire
as it holds stars
(aphrodite)
nameless-bursting-burning!
(athena)
rough and sweet and fresh from hell
crawling to emancipation
just wanting to love
just wanting to live
(aphrodite)
just wanting to move her hair out of her face
with our thumbs
(athena)
asking to be allowed to want
what we are not supposed to have
(aphrodite)
quivering
(athena)
hot and sweaty like little kids under the covers
with a flashlight reading
harold and the purple crayon
(aphrodite)
but there is no flashlight this time
(athena)
and no picture book
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 12:40 AM UTC
Verdant eyes, translucent pearls
speak in silent witness,
wounds unfurl
meaning revealed,
interrupted girl.
Safe in solidarity
prolific eccentricity,
the scandal of particularity.
Pouting mouth
grief - filled lips
alluring, set sail a thousand ships;
tempt me to leave harbor.
Arousing euphoria as such,
resistance, amity and distance
amour sans touch
her sense of humor transcends,
appeasing the mind’s thirst
a vogue sultana,
seasoned swagger
hair resplendent flame,
alternating cool, black
asymmetrical coiffure;
nonconforming demure
the renegade metaphor -
singular for sure, no cure.
Muted vanity, bathos piercing
the jaded circumference of banality;
pale protagonist servitude
the sapient palaver of the urbane,
covered patina of pretense,
induced coercion,
the commodity self
appearing abased
wearing lesions of lassitude.
Artistic chattel - eminent domain
preempting genius,
subsidiary of consuming narcissism
external locus of control;
surrender to the tentative,
fettered pendant, Venus in chains
arrested visionary bane
sterile savant, edifice of pain.
The soubrette, dubious incarnation
gravid ingénue of prevarication
imperceptible venue -
theatre of the absurd;
withdrawn siren,
solitude of necessity -
skin - slender veil of shame,
nearness loitering redemption;
moments envisage
the appointment with the soul;
ambiguity eschews clarity
awareness; ineluctable anxiety,
imago - centric confession
sacred pardon, seraphic venation
intravenous textures presume,
the tactile margins of liberty.
Therapeutic retrieval,
Sanguine,
beneath the portico of
individuation;
Your smile I hear,
recovered autonomy
blessed emancipation,
The scandal of particularity;
peculiar treasure
ironically captured
film, canvas,
prose profundity.
Ciphering as an ambling book,
I peruse you,
rendered captive
hypnotic avant-garde fiction,
spectator of denuded opacity
analogous reflection, I Mirror you.
A modest proposal - pontificate the imperative,
forgo the disposal, adapt your narrative,
the scandal of particularity -
resonate the echo, cogitate our propinquity
Love, imagination and destiny.
©2008 & 2011 W.S Warner
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 1:20 AM UTC
Frre from the stress that has you depressed.
Free from the distraction that keeps you disconnected.
Similar to those held down.
Once freedom is achieved.
Your whole world feels turned around.
Unlike the emancipation proclaimation.
Which was just a signed symbolic act.
You afraid to move willingly.
Until your proposal is met.
Not afraid of reprisal from your enemies.
Because your freedom was achieved by your own reasonings.
Others lives according to fear.
But you convinced with truth that in some ways you're not affected.
The Emancipation Proclaimation passage.
Has beeen everlasting concerning freedom for some.
While others were held in *******
To be free.
Means you move according to your rules.
As long as the decisions affects only you.
Not one to be hunted because others refuses to accepts truth.
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 9:09 AM UTC
I have a quest,a suppress urge,
To dance under the moonlit night.
Madly.Beautifully.Rhythmically,
To a song being played in our hearts.
Hand in hand,embracing and dancing.
I have my hair loose,swaying on your face.
As I dance to the tunes of emancipation.
I find myself in your arms,safe n secure.
For I've found the man who has set me free.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 12:06 PM UTC
Arduous late Winter
woes amplify in February
false hope
We’re all sick
of constrictive clothes
and cold climes conducive to staying in
Cabin fever running rampant
45° t-shirts & sunglasses
everyone driving with their windows down
Hoping Vernal rituals
performed early will
hasten Spring’s arrival
I’m done
fed up
ready to move on
Going crazy in the cold
writhing to get moving unimpeded
by frigidness and snow
I’m ready for Spring
for Summer
for Fall
I’m ready for the scent
of thawing soil in the air
biking in the Sun, verdance, and flowers in bloom
I’m ready for grass between my toes
Fireflies, crickets, peepers
and warm night stars
I’m sick of frost reddened runny raw noses
sick of numb fingers and toes
and having precious few daylight hours
I’m sick of combatting glacial winds with layers,
of treacherous icy apathy,
and dreary bleak boredom
I’m sick of not being able to sit on the ground
sick of long pants, long socks, long sleeves,
and silent stagnant long nights
So, despite the fact
that I’ll pine for January
every day over 90°
Despite the fact
that when mosquitoes swarm
I’ll wish a frost would **** the little ********
and despite the fact
I’ll get just as fed up
with temperate seasons
I still want Spring
and then Summer
and then Fall
But February brings false hope
and despite the lengthening cheery sun
months still stand
between us and t-shirt weather
mild nights, grassy hills,
and emancipation from an inclement icebox atmosphere
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
I expected this but not so soon
I was just finally enjoying being me
Leaving here is going to be like leaving behind a huge part of me
This is where I was born
Where I grew up , where I first experienced true love
Where I first experienced heartbreak
This is where I became Kay-Ann
But part of me is happy
I'm going to begin a new life
A new life full of possibilities
Surely I'll miss my homeland
I'll miss the food
My dear ackee and saltfish
I'll miss the sights
Devon House and Emancipation Park
I'll miss the people
My friends from school and past loves
But migrating is all about starting anew
Starting that new chapter in the book of me.
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
Shadows of my reflection. I found bliss in crawling on walls freely, camouflaging with the dark and the moon's exposure whereby my identity surfaced.
My emancipation from the mundane. Stay right beside you though you aren't around,I repetitively question who am I? We're one yet separate entities. I enjoy knowing you're around though at times you disappear when I'm in the dark. (Erase the last line)I'm appreciative of the shelter you provide. There was harmony in my resonance with nyctophilia.
You're always here with me. I'm always here with you. Nothing contrary to that.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
On
The counters of poetry
I dock and lock myself
Then
I scope on the bottles of liquors seductively
And spellblind by their syllables
I took the shakers and hybrid
The Similes
The Onomatopeia's
The Nemesis'
The Near-Rhymes
And The Triadic-Lines
Then I gulp fourteen shots of Sonnets
From my paper-glass
And glug a paradox
Or a foil-sigh
Trice,
The knots
Bundling my eloquence
Will exonerated itself
And torpidity will cuff my consciousness
And the droplets remains in my paper- glass
Will impel me
To quest for myriad of them
I'm not drunk!
I'm not drunk!
I'm not drunk!
I
Will slur
With half an eye open
As if the other is broken
Stock on a comedy chair
Then
When the
Limbs of time tread
Will I rush to the counter
Like the athletes at Olympia
And hybrid
The Blank-verses
The Alliterations
The Limericks
The Litotes
The Aporia's
And The Dysphemism's
And
Gulp countless
Yet measured shoots
Of Ballad,with my paper-glass
And unravel the oratories
Of sacred secrets,eclectic enchantment and regrettable reflexes
Aside,or injects the world
With my rugged pins of eruditions
Bestowed in me by the liquors of poetry
I'm not drunk!
I'm not drunk!
I'm not drunk!
I
Will slur
With half an eye open
As if the other is broken
Stocked on a comedy-chair
Again
I will rush
To the counter,and hybrid
The Exaggerations
The Personifications
The Imageries
And The Caesura's
And
Gulp uncounted shoots
Of Epic's from my paper-glass
And
Eulogise my steam and wit
Yet,I'm drunk
And deeply drunk wholly
By a might that mortify me so much
That I've become a slave
In the awe of my servitude
Now and then
Will I weep and wail terribly
Each morning,each noon,and each night
For the great demise of myself
And for an emancipation
From the perpetual counter-cells poetry
I'm drunk,and deeply drunk by poetry.
Deeply Drunk
©Historian E.Lexano
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
Life is a teacher
Teacher will teach
Sometimes will beat
Sometimes will ******
Every side of ups
Every type of dawns
Life will open to you face
For clear your mind space
You will blame..
You will rejoice...
May be you will resist
But you must never regret
Depend of your life situation
Take delivered position
Forgive every excuse
Accept all your sins
Take attention to your lesson
Because it is only way..!
The way which bring you emancipation!
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC
For it is written to grant forgiveness
No matter difference or malfeasance
To never speak ill of one another
Or deny each other our subsistence
All men are created equal parchment
Holding these truths to be self-evident
The oppression of the Kings colony
Patriotic revolutionary
Migrating minds irrational to sane
Reserved safe harbor but to others pain
Land of self-righteousness and victory
Exceptionalism and destiny
Ships billowing with holds of chattel slaves
Fractional human beings ordained graves
Until brother killed brother for freedom
Assassination emancipation
Forty acres and a mule recompense
Jim Crow separate but equal pretense
Lynch mob street justice terrorism rope
Vietnam veteran unable to cope
James Earl Ray bullet Memphis balcony
Bull Connor another dead Kennedy
Black power fist raised Mexico City
Malcolm X panther Muhammed Ali
White supremacy freedom riders dead
Mississippi white cross on fire dread
Rodney King can’t we just get along plea
Is skin color all we will ever see?
Should they get over their Mockingbird past
Should they burn the city or should they fast?
Oh Lord should we turn a cheek in silence
Or fight with Kings dream of non-violence?
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Come dance the Tandava with me and you too will be free
Creation सृष्टि
I am Shiva’s Shadow
स्थिति ..... I exist to support life’s precarious platform
संहार ..... I feel Creation’s seed.... cosmic genesis
The first wave of flagrant eruption
Ending in the the cosmos’s destruction.
तिरोभाव There exists illusion
Which gives rise to me
The obliteration of ignorance.
We live in times of ignore-ance
Here I have little sway.
Years from now....maybe.
Until then, kali decides to dance with me. Primal संहार Destruction
Bloodlust and Fire
******** and desire
Quantum tantric tangle
***** the world’s funeral pyre
Goodbye beauty, Goodbye love
WE bring it upon ourselves, creating shells and building shelves
to stack the wonton clothes of identity, the context of all hells.
The layers are too many
It collapses
And if not, I'll ******* burn the scaffold.
I know why I am here now.
To destroy tirobhava,
all this pain is an illusion
I hereby release this sickness from the world
in prophetic burning grace of emancipation अनुग्रह is foretold
To dance the sacred tandava
say goodbye once more and end it all.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 3:44 PM UTC
This world is beautiful once we realize
that time and expectation
provide no limitations
on the people's adaptation
and the mental emancipation
within the growing nations
of enlightened pro-creations.
See, I believe,
that when I find my destination
- there will be no hesitation -
for I have that dedication.
I want to spread my thoughts,
wander off, take a vacation.
For now I'm sitting patient;
just posted here, at my station,
counting the small money I'm making,
constantly wishing and waiting
for one marvelous day when
someone else hears what I'm saying.
11/25
2013 © (KD)
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 3:50 AM UTC
I have a vision and a goal
In my heart and mind,
Of a new and a great awakening;
And where the thirsty volcanoes
Shall cry our loud for blood;
And where the mountains
Shall lie flat on their faces;
And where the wise aunt
Shall rule over the jungle in wisdom;
And where the wild bamboo
Shall provide edible fruits for mankind;
And where the dark moon
Shall rule over the lights and day;
And where both the South and the West wind
Shall hold their peace indefinitely;
And where realities in nature
Shall live without principles;
And where the ****** sea
Shall boil in an unquenchable rage,
Seeking vengeance on the wicked enemy;
And where the sky shall turn red and
Shall war against the flaming earth,
Nevertheless, in all these
There shall be a mental re-birth,
We shall excel in progress and in pride,
We shall officiate our own destiny,
We shall discover our mental capabilities,
Which is the road to our common destiny.
II
Yes, I have a vision and a goal
Still in my heart and mind
Of a new and a better life,
In which all men, women and children
Of goodwill and a passion for excellence
Might be able to express themselves freely,
Without force, fear or favour,
And where life’s opportunities and times,
Might be open freely to all;
And where all mankind
Shall walk at liberty in solidarity;
And where equity and equality
Shall be our hallmark;
And where starvation, sorrow and suffering
That evil trio,
Shall be no more;
And where dedication, discipline and determination,
That just trio
Shall penetrate our souls and spirits;
And where a new start
With a just course,
Really might be possible to all,
Forgetting past failures and errors,
Nevertheless, in all these
We must let bygones be bygones
Where liberty and love is concerned,
Now is the hour of a fresh emancipation
With an honest and fair purpose.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: [email protected]
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:07 AM UTC
Seven score and eleven years after the Emancipation Proclamation;
I'd like to thank my community for finally acknowledging his memory.
Wanting to view historical document written by Rev. Martin Luther King,
logged on and took a virtual trip to our ever expanding National Archives.
His views on day of historic speech, "Heartwarming to see this marvelous,
gigantic group of people here from all over the nation to give witness."
I'm giving credit to ABC news for being allowed to hear the man's words
from his own mouth without having to read them in black and white.
There's no argument in regards to race differences and that we the people,
have miles to go before we are at similar mindset in climate of opinion.
Spotlight should shine brightly on how far we've come as we the people,
away with all the negatives of no hopes of ever achieving racial harmony.
If MLK were alive today he'd see many positive changes and would see
his dream is still alive and well though we have miles to journey's end.
Yes, Dr. Martin Luther King, you are appreciated as we honor your day.
I have many reasons to thank you and all who paid the ultimate sacrifice.
My children are allowed to attend any public school they wish without fear.
I can now sit in the front of the bus without fear of arrest or a mob beating.
There are no laws preventing me from front door entry of public buildings.
Thanks so much! I'm free to date or marry any person of any race I choose.
The list above is just a small sampling of all the changes his life evoked.
I'm thankful he was gifted to our planet in period of time he was needed.
He is missed by the planet and those of us who are grateful that he existed.
Dr. Martin Luther King was true Visionary with foresight to see great things.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 7:16 AM UTC
Let's lose our minds amongst the olive trees
Labyrinth of oiled imagination
Twirl like falling leaves / falling to our knees
in unbalanced joy and veneration
of ourselves. For there is nobody else
but us; there is no other time but now,
Red flowers bloom. A blue shadow propels
a still landscape into being somehow
fluid. Timelessly we swim, wet within
each brush stroke branch and painted wave of wild
emancipation—to forget the din
of the wretched asylum. Vincent smiled:
Dive too deep and you shall go insane,
The olive grove remains the other side of the pane.
Oct 16, 2020
Oct 16, 2020 at 9:04 AM UTC
Forever unhappy.
These words echo throughout my mind searching for a landing spot
as if my mind was made up of cliffs, instead of a straight cave.
Damage done throughout the years
has broken off
pieces
of matter
from the sides,
seemingly making me unstable
when in reality each groove offers security to those
brave enough to enter my darkness and venture forth.
Forever unhappy
has become the theme of my penitentiary.
He wrote it as I felt it,
but when the earth shook with our last kiss it still didn’t budge.
Emancipation- if there is such a thing- has failed to find me
despite the fact that I left.
I took a liberty walk into a straightjacket because the truth is:
I cannot escape him.
Since his absence, I have lost feeling. If I’m not preoccupied, I’m numb.
I press through the day normally
except for the occasional external
faltering to submission
in doses of anxiety attacks
where my hyperventilation becomes a rhythm of its own
until I find myself distracted once again.
I’m forcing myself to be more involved with life, but it’s false hope.
I know he resides in me,
waiting rather impatiently for my return. Lurking like a demon,
yet shadowed to preserve innocence
so when the light renders him different, we can both blame my vision.
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 3:42 AM UTC