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Tashea Young Dec 2016
Dear Black Men,
They have been throwing you away like a trash can.
Never to Understand
That you have value, and for your life God has designed a plan.
So Here I am with you, Side by side I place my hands, in your rough, calloused, laboring hands.
Merging together in solidarity just as a musical band.
As you are Always being placed under Servere Scrutiny
At this moment I stand with you declaring that we start speaking the healing language of unity.
Or This will be The End of Our Community.
Before our Village becomes Extinct
within a moments notice like the eyes that blink.
Removing The hate from our heart and brain that have formed into a kink
like the negative thoughts that we think
Overwhelming the mind drowning only to sink.
They are an Important asset to the family  just as the body needs Zinc.
They're An Esstenial Mineral.
Yet you label them as a Criminal, Cynical, Miserable, Pitiful,
A Creature deemed Unforgivable,
But if you look beyond the attributes of the physical
Take a glace At the mental and spiritual temple.
Resting inside is Gods Love that's Unconditional.
Then is when you will see what I see  Indispensable Individuals; Descendents From Israel.
Does the pigment of thier skin disqualifies him as being equal?
Is this Prince of Egypt's Sequel?
Or maybe its the fact that These Men are  Gods Royal people.

And Still you label them a Negros.
But when thier Tribe looks at them we See A heros.
Trying to lead thier people to the mental state of freedom just Moses did In Exodus from Pharoh.
If only it were that simple
To see inside The temple's window
You would see souls so beautiful.
conscious men awoken to what thier mind and innermen has come to know
Or hearts so rare its special.
And Like A super Moon painted on the black sky thier spirits will glow.

They are kings whom are kind and gracious.
Like a lion's Roar thier Words Are Boldy spoken into the atmosphere and Audacious
Their presences is contagious
Their spirit his courageous.

They are men whos wife and children watch intentively and admire.
They are the household provider.
In their minds he sparks a fire
A flame That Inspires.

He's The The soul that lives within.
Their Maghony skin has been dipped into Hersheys Rich Chocolate Melanin
Thier Deep Voice sounds like A roar from Lions Den , Vigorous and Masculine.
They are powerful like strength and of A thousand men.
Thier smile is as bright as the Radient sun warm and Golden.
From what Cloth was these men woven
that such a men of thier statue has not only been called but also chosen.
Theres something they are Beholding
They are just as a campfire in the blackness of the night glowin.

They are men of color
They are the cover for thier lover
They are My brothers from other mothers.

To The Blackwoman they are our
Batmen, Supermen, Ironmen, Tarzan, Patrolmen, repairmen, handymen, guardsmen, Businessmen and Gentlemen.
And We are your support system, your biggest fans.

You all are The craftmanship of The Most High's hand.
Constructed from the dust of the ground on which we stand.
Mixed with breathe of Life created a human being who bare feet ran,
feeling the warmth from the grains of sand, As he Walked among the surface of the land.
Adam, the Earths first black man.

I Wrote this to let you know we value you My Dear Black Man.
LeV3e Mar 2017
I put blinders on my heart

to keep from bleeding out my mouth

all over the shoes of those too mummified to

feel the souls of their own feet anymore
I was three , no bigger than a west Texas tumbleweed . . . just three .

My mother hung the wash out on the line
and wiped the sweat off her brow with her hand .
Half an hour later the clothes were frozen .
Blue Norther . . . you can see them coming
a hundred miles away .
Wichita Falls , Texas . . . on the Wichita river .

Moses sat on a mountaintop gazing at the promised land but it was out of his hands now .
Leaning on his staff , the one that ate the Pharoh's two serpents . . . sssssssilently a single tear falls to the ground .

No fence could hold me . . . I was over or under in seconds .
A terror at three , a potential runaway .
The police knew me by first name  . . . just three .
The plains of North Texas , jackrabbits , coyotes , rattlesnakes and all . . . were home .

Forty years of desert wilderness ,
till the last man , woman , and child of Egyptian connection had died ,
. . . . . . was such a sacrifice made . . . . . .
Moses was the last to fall .
On a mountaintop of no consequences .

      "Run Rabbit Run"
Francie Lynch Feb 2015
Proud I was with my shoveling,
Moving snow to the end of the drive,
Lifing loads, shovelling high.
The armlifts created pyramids,
I was as proud as Pharoh coud be.
These pyramids
Could well entomb me.
Got a snowblower now. Too many over the age of fifty up here drop dead at the end of a shovel, shovelling their drive.
Rob Sandman Mar 2016
Feel my breath blowing like a gale , the gael without fail,
I inhale and exhale the flames of hell,
Born hellbent-repent!
you’re scurrying in gullies while I seek your Scent...
SNIFFFF-grrrrrrrr! -that’s the sound of doom,
You’re better off digging in a pharoh’s tomb,
No room to escape the breath that melts cold steel
You’re a rabbit in my headlights fear my moulten hot claws of steel,
I breathe oxygen and nitrogen to exhale the red hot blast to seal your fate,
Best debate, best berate, get your estate in order one blast of rhyme its all over.
You’re a scorchmark against a granite wall,
Been burnt to a crisp by the firestorm from hell,
Well welcome to hell do you feel the heat?
Sandman slim-dragon never fears defeat,
20 years here spittin’ in the underground,
Now its time to take place in the sound that’s found,
In an Irish no go area, the gates of Mordor,
The Irish Dragon - draggin you to a state of ******,
grrrr!-claws like claymore’s rake across your face
as I prepare to ignite,take flight,seal your fate...
The first incarnation of "the Dragon of Eire"
Parker Louis Jan 2015
Misery is the mother of invention
because in my life happiness doesn't even get a mention
but sometimes I fake smile just to break the tension
I feel like my ******* heart is bent in
like I wish you never went in
You're like the epitome of satan
because you kept me hangin' and waitin'
and I thought eventually we'd end up datin'
I was wrong

Now I'm just a wreck
I want to take a long treck
we kissed but it was just a peck
but now I'm so ****** I want to stab my neck
or my heart
oh wait you already did that part
Cupid shot me with his love dart, arrow
the line I walk is narrow
I feel like the opposite of a pharoh
a peasant
When I saw you it used to be pleasant
but now I don't even want your presence
9/22/2012 I wrote this the same night as Completely Suppressed. It was at a school dance.
perry long Jun 2014
Runnin', really runnin'


I sit here,
lookin' at my loose skinned animals

just lyin' there.

And I think, (as is my way),

"How lucky they are

just lyin' there

with nothing to do."

Oh yes.

Well I know for certain

the cats

are always doin' just what
they wanna do.

They intersect with me
at the food bowl,
at their, (you know), leisure.

The dog,
on the other hand,
(She's a Pharoh Hound),

that's right,

She's curled up in
the big green arm chair.

And she's dreamin'

about runnin' across
Abysinian deserts

chasin'

long legged antelopes
in the hot shifty sands.

And she's runnin',

And she's runnin',

really runnin',

and

I wake her up,

and

she's  back here
curled up

in the big green arm chair.

And then I get
the disconcerting thought,

"When was the last time

I was runnin',

runnin',

really runnin' ?"

Maybe

I've been curled up here
in the big green arm chair,

You know,

Domesticated,

Dreamin'.

And my skin

sure as hell ain't loose.
Blank Nov 2015
We go through life working
(To survive... And be enriched?)
Not allowing ourselves life
(What's the point of riches if you don't have life?
Like a fallen Pharoh in his resting place,
you'll be destitute surrounded by priceless jewels.)
Due to a blind fear of being left behind
(Is behind really so bad?)
Prisoners to our own creation
(Society that is.)
Oh! how cruel and ironic fate can be!
(If it even exists.)
ordained Dec 2014
complacency is killing us; our blind acceptance of who and what and where God is will **** us. we are not fighting, not the way we should be. i have all the fires and brimstone of hell inside of me-- does that mean all of those sinners get sent to me? i am dissatisfied with this and i will fight, fire with fire, until one has been put out and the other consumes all. if i have options, i have one right to choose. we need to question, we need to strike, because we are the people and no one can silence this, no one can put this down. fight back and ponder the credibility of your God and walk into your church and stare at that cross and ask your God the questions you weren't taught to ask. o farmers: pick up the rifle and put down the plow-- the time to fight is now because it's now or never, blindly loving children of God, but do not give me your answers. keep them to yourselves and let them fester with an infection that no amount of praying can drive out. are you going to keep fighting God, or are you going to collapse into the arms of God? question everything He has taught you but do not be afraid, because He will still let you into His kingdom once you have found in this cookie cutter religion what it is you need and want. you have to get out of this terrifying ignorance and into the harsh truth you formulate. the blind dark may be appealing, beckoning you, but however painful, the reality is your paradise so get out of the palace of the pharoh and into the new world; God will open his arms to you still
I'm getting ready to relax on some tracks and start a collage of all my beats and raw underground raps,
Sell my lyrics and make it in a world where I can be whatever I want off my own business I'm sick of this world that is spinning spun  around a light looking so dark when they wake to the bright side of the rhyme puns,
I'm lungs hung up in pharoh shrines,
I'm traps set within pyramid dives,
And deep sea swims where discoveries can't be described,
I can willfully speak like placements of fixed history I'm a speaker literally on a speaker speaking figuratively it's a technical state of tranquility my mentality preps instantly when beats hit my ears and I just arrive in Japan with the intent to walk into the woods full of energy,
I'm always feeling me mc meeting myself mixed in the mysteries I've mastered lyrically
The river flowed slowly
For it carried precious cargo
An infant in a basket

The river knew what to do
And saved the infant from its demise
Bringing it to the Pharoh's wife

The river flowed gently
All you could hear were the infant's cries
While I'm not the most strongest Christian (Though I hope to be) The stories and lessons from the bible serve as great inspiration for poems
Jerry Howarth Feb 2022
THE BRTH OF MOSES
                       Exodus 2:1-10  
    "I don't care what that new King commanded" said Amran(Ex. 6:20) God has entrusted me us with two boys, (Aaron and Moses) we are not going to **** them."

"But Mom, I agree with you  about not killing either of them, especially this last baby boy, but someone will turn you in
for not killing him" said her daughter

"I will nurse him as long as I can, then figure out something else to do after that" she replied.

Amram nursed him for three months, then made a FAITH decision to build an ark made of bulrushes, sealed it with pitch, and hid him in the flags by the rivers bank.

"Now I want you to go with him and hide yourself so no one can see you, but you can keep your eyes on him." said her mother.

It wasn't too many days after, that the Paroah's daughter came to the river to freshen up, and she saw the ark, and the baby was crying.

God's timing is always perfect. Just at the precise time that Pharoh's
daughter came to bath, God pinched Moses and made him cry.

"Oh what a cute little baby" she said to one of her maids. "Go and bring it to me. Oh what a little sweety!"

"Oh my! Is this your little baby? He sure is a cutie! exclaimed his big sister.

"No, he is not my baby. I think he is one of the Israelite boys. He is too cute to ****. My dad won't approve, but I am going to keep him and raise him as my son."

"I know a Hebrew nurse that would probably be glad to nurse him for you until you are able to care for him yourself! Would you like me to do that?"

Now Amram didn't raise any dumbings and so she brought her mother and introduced her to Pharaoh's daughter who made a verbal contract with her to rear him until she was able to care for him herself.

Remember Amram's FAITH DESICION? God not only protected
Moses from death, He made it so that his birth mother not only got to rear him until Pharoah's daughter could take over, but got paid for doing so

"Oh, I forgot to ask you what did you name him?" ask Amram
"Well, I drew him out of the river, so I will name him
                                MOSES    
From Jerry Howarth's Book of Old Testament Applications

— The End —