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Following on from my earlier series of blogs titled ....Does she have to be black...comes a piece of poetry entitled "rock n hard place" which was born in the early hours of Tuesday 15th July while listening to Goapele's "Closer". I hope you feel this
Its not right that you sit ready to scald my soul with hot vapours
Words spat at my spirit like a volcano awakened
Ready to give me a rocky time
The way you erupt and ejaculate your magma all over the ground of my relations
Your shallow vibe is enough for me to take but
This ship you want to break because your head aches
Your heart breaks
disdain you display
Though A
Perfect life you say you want to make for
ME
But my life seems to be a Travesty that you couldn't see when it was only me
Now the picture has another brush touching the canvas
Your anger has surfaced
I hate the angles of your brush strokes
It provokes and tries to choke the colour in the name of love and education
I used to appreciate the guidance to this painting
my life, my situations
Yet you kick my head and tell me wake up
You say my logic is crooked and your being straight up
You don't serve faith up, sunny side or otherwise
Like your earthly creator you don't see when your shots backfire
I don't mind if if your likes are robed in negro attire
I'm the writer but right now your writing me as the future satire
Negro for white hire and incensed blackfire
The rage of the black feminine eyes
According to you Negroes never lie except when their sleeping
Cultural autonomy is doctrine you believe in,
My ears you preach in like they were your personal microphone
Hoping my brain will connect with your oh no's
You love so much that your evil rose
You become a black rose even though for many years you I've known
Until you re-plant yourself in good ground how is your beauty supposed to show
What you've experienced you know I leave that as your water
The thing that feeds you
Yes I love you and I need you but and yes I need truth
But being realistic doesn't mean YOU
Always Agreeing with YOU
I feel blue as the sky and readily open
You take the biscuit with my soul but I wont be broken
Not taken in by anything but love nor am I a token
Of white conspiracy to leave the black race broken
Educated black men the chosen
I'd rather be white hot and potent than charcoal and broken
just because of words you've spoken
I hope lava never fills your valley and demands you float
Karma could be your worst nightmare but that I don't hope
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Posted by poetic7 on 2008-07-15 06:19:58 | Rating: | Views: 81
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Man...you have words for days...I like this, it was deep and gives us something to think about. Look forward to reading more :)
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Posted by LadySyren
on 2008-07-16 18:18:57
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