What manner of world is this When we have stolen and dismissed Greatness, for we believe Only the heightened may achieve And fruit that has grazed the ground Along with those just beyond margins found Should drink in acceptance without a sound Oh wordless, voiceless Beloved of God Pushed deep into the hardened sod Sprout and break For if you can You have the gifts To heal this land You have the strength To restore a peace You are filled with the genius To bring relief You are the mighty bearers of light Carrying news That brights the night You may not remember What Great God Whispered in your ear Before he dispatched your soul to your body And sent you here You are more You are more And when slams the door Think on this You bear pearls Cultivated not for Those who have it all And believe they own the call Your pearls are for the many souls Who will lift up their weary eyes And rejoice as hope unfolds
Started with hope. Soon, I sought rope. Physical changes. Life rearranges. Found some new passion. Took some tough lashings. Wrote myself sad. Wrote myself glad. Dreams of perfection. Took new direction. We need an election. Driven into mad sections. It all is so scattered. Folks so sacred our lives matter. So scared of my skin. That erases my grin. Black to where we begin. Before King, we begin. We have to win. Or lives may just end. Masks are pulled on. Masks are thrown off. It’s the way of this land. Not just in the South. People cough, heave, and die. The rhetoric flies. I still look for my center. Need my emotional center. Legacy building. Keep trying, God willing. Can’t always tell. Feels like I might fail. Feels like I might be. Be ready to flee. Feels like I might know. Know I’m ready to go. Go change my life flow. Somtimes those around. Thought they were with. Found they weren’t down. Not just what they said. What they never did. Must’ve been stuff. That they barely hid. I’ll live ’til I die. For my Loves, I will try. My hair–still wavy. My skin–summer brown gravy. Hips still wide, just a bit. Thank goodness pants fit. My mind–still spinning. Still dream of winning. Teaching in my view. Learning is, too. Is what I know ever enough for you? Is what I need to know still in a vast sea of what I need to see? I still want to trod a red rug. I still need the true distanced hug. We lost some of the great ones. Some who’ve known me from day one. Some who set the scene in this nation. That helped Shades rise to their station. To them I say “Thank You!” For all that you did do. For every mountain you scaled. For everytime you were jailed. For every knock that you took. Left you out of school books. Yet God still elevates. ALL the True Goods and The Greats! Vivian, Lewis, and Harrell. Without them, our roads would’ve narrowed. My road would’ve narrowed. My life, far more harrowed. Today, I do feel able. Though, not always stable. I just had to get this out. In case my heart goes into drought. ‘Cause I may never speak again. Summer 2020. My God. Amen.
In Spite of it all…
Thinking of my Beautiful Ivy Beyond the Wall, Helen Peppers Harrell, Statesman and Freedom Fighter John Lewis, and God’s Warrior for Justice Rev. C.T. Vivian. This has been a Summer of Mountains. Trusting God for Peace in the Valley… ❤🙏🏽❤
Bring life to broken weary hearts and bones that are
Struggling to find any home to lay down burdens
These humble paragons lift up those who have wrestled night and day
With the evil myths an rifts in a world of perceived Godlessness
The Jubilant messengers, soulful sojourners soothe, cajole, enliven and smear ointments of peace and joy on the one or the hoard of faces marred and bodies stoned
And they
Pour libations for the nations
They are
Angels wrapped in flesh
Disguised with smiles that pierce, confuse, and beguile the cloaked demons
That lurk just outside the periphery
Or boldly walk unashamed
Within the territories
Change conditions
Undeterred, these Torch Bearers of Night, Bringers of Light that
Helping others pull dreams into fruition
Wizened warriors spanning eons of the holiest traditions
Who lift blood, clay, and breath towards the sky
That those who live ’til they die might one day
Know the sweetest by and by and by and are
Now measured in divine plans of forever
Good Friday Song
What A Word Inspiration provided by Raymonda Peele, Tanisha Hines-Johnson, and Jean Lovett Cahoon
A space that I inhabit when I am terrorized by the thought that the pieces I’ve left in real time will make no difference in the place I’m thought to be
While I peep from the pockets where I store my insecurities
I try to hurry, that I might return to the rest of me
To create my illusion of free…
Temporal freedom
Temporary freedom
No time…no time…
No peace of mind can ride this temporal stream alone, intact
In fact…
If I could move up and down the continuum to control my fear
If I could stop and restart tears and fears
If I could control the gift
I could avoid my journey to the rift
The trip that sends me adrift into the darkness layered carefully between light
Where I try to build up the inner fight
To ride a train of temporal courage
That will not wane
To leave a legacy that will play sweet refrain
Long beyond my footprints stain
The earthly floors that do remain…
In the meanwhile
I do as I do
I pray that one day
It be enough…
I preach comfort
I teach conciousness
I build carefully
(Fear and trembling)
I scream “I think of thee and these! Are you pleased? My God, are you pleased?”
I want God This God Who created These brave souls Souls that lived and fought for us Those He covered and preserved in bold I want God This God Who pieced Strong people together The God who carried Them through tempestuous storms To survive the most treacherous weather I want God This God Who answered My ancestors’ plea A God who continues To strike the demons down To build my equity I want God This God Who puts no other man before me Who values sun burnished skin And restores complete My hard fought dignity I want God This God Who continues to renew my hope And for accursed dream killers He fashions his unyielding stiff rope Not one of the mortal stock Of the many who claim his name in mock For those indeed will not be going To the land that is only made For those who spoke a truth Of love and care for fellow dust And lived lives of full and righteous proof I want God This God Who knit together those who love and give Who advocate for dreams of the meek As long as this earth lives
Glory lasts always. Rest in peace, Brother Soldier Representative John Lewis. Rest in peace, Brother Soldier Rev. C.T. Vivian. Sleep in God’s peace and our ancestors’ embrace
There’s a trauma that sometimes sickens me It sits in my cells, having traveled in generations of collective memory Finds my own consciousness and whispers “You cannot be free; your time’s almost up; there’s nothing more you can say or be That makes a difference
Vile liquid churns in my stinging throat and Fear grabs hold my fighting hope and Stills my movement and hides my rope To stop my climb And all I want to do is find Before the world finally sputters and unwinds That heralding voice that lifts and resounds “This is the way to Higher Ground” Put my feet on that Higher Ground… Plant my soul in Higher Ground… Lord, just let me feel the thrill of Higher Ground!
Today is the 4th And I will claim peace As I pray to my God That my angst will decrease Today is the 4th And today I still weigh Whether protestations for equality Will ever hold any sway Today is the 4th But what does that mean When carotid chokeholds still murder Unarmed Black and Brown dreams Today is the 4th A day for which many of my ancestors Bravely and hopefully fought While others of my progenitors Were trafficked, sold, and bought Today is the 4th And I want so badly to sing But notes of antiblackness Still dampen Freedom’s ring And people still feign ignorance Don’t understand why they shouldn’t cheer and jeer “red skins” Or why they should welcome “huddled masses” Who dream to enter in And further question anger from those who’ve had an overfill Of decades of trauma beyond the 4th That have made liberty unreal
However…
Today I WILL celebrate the 4th Not for what it is, but for what could one day be I will claim in faith and work That we can all be free In law and soul and spirit We will strive for all-the-better We must believe it’s possible That we can craft and fashion and tether A way that we might celebrate A National July 4th A Freedom Party Genuinely Together
I am weary of liturgies and requiems I’ve written to still my soul I am weary of emerging horrors Perpetrated by blue hearts frozen cold I am weary of watching my babies die As they walk the halls of hate As they run the streets of disdain and fear As they dance through beguiling gates As they are ambushed by dark spirits Seeking release for anger and power Shadowed in corners, prepared to pounce Brown-bodied victims of the hour I am weary of pouring love And not returned the cup I am weary of loose-lipped rhetoric That promises “Things will change. Look up.” I am weary of waiting on others To decide that they will do right My gut cannot absorb the lies Cloaked in sugary melodies and light I am weary of watching history repeat Politicized plagues, unmasked and militarized streets Fashioned nooses, licensed lynchings Fickle help on legal benches Tears that mourn for the opressors’ stone glory Absolute feigned ignorance of our stories I am weary of watching small gods strut I am weary of crying “My God! What would you have me to do? Cast them down, Lord! Bring us through! “ We live in times with naked kings, and Subjects circle to let their praises ring And right is wrong And Evil drops the dance and song At our feet While we look for saviors To orchestrate marvelous feats And wear cloaks of perfection So keen to live in protection We become confused And employ the anciently used All or nothing familiar ruse And flawed logic permits many to choose Yea, choose the enemy or downright refuse To engage in our own escape… I am weary I am weary And my words, on their own, are not enough
So on today, I just want to stop and reflect on the concept of “freedom” as it exists in this land, particularly with the boundaries of the United States. On June 19, 1865, approximately 2 1/2 years after the Emancipation Proclamation was given, the word regarding the freedoms that had been established on January 1, 1863 finally reached Texas. This, as it relates to the physical freedom from bondage, is the date that those, who were once counted as 3/4 human, were no longer required to toil on plantations, within homes, or anywhere else within the United States without pay. The awareness of this commemoration, in recent years, has become a celebrated occurrence even outside of the state of Texas, as many around the United States continue to ponder and insist on ever increasing freedoms, equity, and equality for all. Therefore, it is fitting that we celebrate what has happened, as well as consider what needs to happen in order that we might better dwell in peace, prosperity, freedom, and unity.