Life Imitates Art

Woe to those who oppress others.
History won’t repeat itself.
A New World without white supremacy.

2123 year of Jubilee.
Life imitates art, you see.
“Never again” will be our plea.

Women are born free, they rule with glee.
dedication, liberation, manifestation of our dreams.
We paint the art of our tomorrows.

Our daughter’s continued the fight.
Democracy is sophisticated wear her heels.
Lady liberty is not blind to injustice.
Now we can see.

MAGA laws Jim Crow is dead.
Posterity is peace and forages the journey ahead.

Don’t think for one moment evil not lurk.
Around pulpit of vengeance and smirk’
One hundred years ago we did avert.

The conquest to control and defeat with wars.
The earth rebuilt it’s fortress of hope.

Hate closed it doors.
It was a dying cause.
Its in vogue to strive for compacity to love,

Children are safe today; 100 year ago the guns were lost.
Weapons are not used today, they’ve been outlawed with the KKK.

We are healing our nations with our neighbors we lend a helping hand.
Goodness and mercy will follow as long as there is life no the land.

No, is the answer to the question “how do I control your life.”
Our currency is gladness with that we have all we need.

We heeded the cry for justice for every, human, men, women, faith and creed.
Today we dare not stumble repeating the hegemonic ways of the past.

In the words of MLking. Thank God we are “Free at Last..”
Forget the failure of the past. Moving forward is our only task.

Melody of Inspiration #3

Repeated sonorities of my existence reassures me, my world is full of promise.
The melody of inspiration comes with the rhythm of syncopated strokes of time.

Frequencies moving through time are the notes, I hear to invoke my passion for life.
The overtones of humanities song is written with anticipation of peace.

Relax with the beat that flows as crescendos rise, occasion for higher vibrations.
Life is a gift and with gratitude syncopation will make you tap your feet; tip your hat.

Move, modulate, vibrate with expressions of sincere hope of a shining night.
Lift, love, leap into the dance of forgiveness, elevate victorious bliss.

Contrapuntal melodies inspires like the heart beating to tunes of harmonic space.
The silence counts too, with out it becomes noise. Every stroke of the cello’s bow.
Bows to it audience with ears of submission.

So it is my way to understand. I to have a place in this world.
The melody of inspiration is how I hear the music of my soul.

Darkest Night-#2

The darkest evening of the year was the night six people stole women’s constitutional rights.
The darkest evening of the year was the silence in Uvalde, Texas where
the souls of 21 people left this earth because of gun violence.
the deepness of the tragedies only reflect the heart of our American humanity.
who is listening to the out cries of families of 11 black souls gun down in a NYC town.
Now that is the “darkest evening of the year.” Robert Frost

Robert did not know this day would come, perhaps with the hope of our divine one’s intervention,
tomorrow night will be better? I will pray, wait and see.

 

My first poem

I am confused

I don’t know how to use this platform.

I will continue to strive for clarification.

I am concern about women’s healthcare in this nation.

I still have a minute to go not sure where and what is to follow.

I breath and the answer will come. It’s call faith.