12 – Lawful-Neutral
Citizens of protocol
Watch them follow
Let them suffer in peace
Heritage
To the civilization that is slowly losing its culture,
This message is for you.
To the parents that have spared the rod and spoiled the child,
This message is for you.
To the children that use a greeting for elders, to please each other,
This message is for you.
You have become unrooted from the culture that brought up your forefathers,
You have lost yourselves in the upbringings of others,
Become experiments for cultures that never had a home in your house.
You have found yourselves where our ancestors lost themselves,
Trying to get back to their heritage.
Have you forgotten how your hair grows and holds heaven,
As it curls,
But you would rather have it straightened so that it can be the roots,
You lost when you gave your heritage up for an acceptance card into society.
So instead of being braided by the angels themselves,
It trails behind collecting dust like a elder’s proverb,
The adolescent teen believes they have outgrown.
And indeed instead of continuing this progressive culture,
You have created a hybrid that excludes your own backbone.
This uncommon dynamic builds a foundation on soil,
As your identity is lost,
You believe you are found.
So do not be angered when outsiders enter your home,
And steal what should have been yours
Hour 12, Prompt 12 – First, harvest
She brought it all inside in a large basket
The first harvest was all she hoped for
Taking each eggplant and pepper up
And cleaning the flesh between her soft hands
The water scattered earth around the sink
And ran down in a little stream from her elbow
As she popped a sweet, yellow cherry tomato
into her mouth and daydreamed of a dinner party
She would decorate the dining room
With strings of lights draped from curved branches
And tealights and wildflowers on the table
Not knowing who would come to fill the space
Paris
Paris me manque. I write in my book. Dreams of France, past journeys and new adventures. Scanning the pages of words written so long ago. Collected memories of old love made new again. Have I not sought you out again? Looked to you for advice and wisdom? Wanting to hold your hand and have new experiences with you. The French will embrace these memories as will men and women the world over. That your opinions haven’t changed. This is what I hope. My old age may be made young again, through both our love and Paris.
Low Tide
Your love is inconstant
and I’m uncertain if I care.
Your moods roll like the Pacific
and I am just a shell.
I have washed up on your shore
like a man once lost at sea.
My soul cries out for yours.
Won’t you set these seabirds free?
In the low tide of my life.
I hope to find you there.
Sparkling in the sun
like a pearly glint of shell.
The Pacific is inconstant and uncertain like the soul of man.
The Trembling of a Leaf. Little Stories of the South Sea Islands by William Somerset Maugham
Hour 12!
When I looked at her I could see
All that wild in her eyes
She held the universe in her smile
And it shined brighter than the sun
But I could also see the things
She tried so hard not to show
The dark parts she kept hidden
Between the spaces of her fingers
But that’s the thing I loved
So when I held her hand
I held her darkness too.
Hekaukemy
I stand at the pyramid’s peak exhaling light from Orion’s belt
It feeds me then fragments while flowing out in a kaleidoscope of color across the dunes
I hear the echoes of Ausar, Heru, Tehuti & Anu
They whisper the wisdom of mysteries in my mind
The crescent cancer moon comes down from the heavens to become my crown
Het Heru, Maat, Seker, and Auset nourish my spirit
I am the Alchemist returned to Kemet Nu
The Sphinx smiles because I am the answer to the riddle
The desert gives way to lush life harmonizing with my aura
Prophesy is fulfilled
12. “And Now..” Introducing Bobby Digital!
“And now…” So when they said today was the funeral of Bobby Digital… I thought it was the multifaceted rapper and not the reggae producer who passed from natural causes. Instantly I was transported to find out about this legendary icon I never knew. His favorite singer was Dennis Brown. “Music made to absorb” from the youth to transition into the present day. I did not know all the songs he produced. I grew up in the states and I researched my roots in reggae also listening to hip-hop and rap fresh in my lexicon. So this poetry shout out is to all the “Bobby Digital” fans alive and those who passed to the next phase of existence. Merci Beaucoup. Bless up… Thank you. RZA and Bobby Digital. Music is the education we all seek. jPs…I’m missing Quest Love tonight to write.
Inspired by the first line of ,“Who Was That Masked Man Anyway? By Avi (My reintro to the Wu, who knew!)
Warrior (1/2 Marathon, Hour Twelve)
Warrior
She is everything.
They seek her blood to drink and mix with their own,
Not knowing that her blood will poison their hearts, livers, lungs.
Not knowing that revolution eats through stomach lining.
Acid on a quest for liberation
Will leak from bowels,
Burn through skin,
Dissolve any resistance,
Before she would ever allow her secrets to become one
With their weakness.
They desire her.
She is everything.
They wish to consume her sweat, her tears.
Even her feces has more power than the strength of their bones.
Defecation will produce more life than their hopes and dreams.
Her spit is magic to them
But it will burn their corneas
Before she would ever think to share one wisp of her legacy
With their evil.
They worship her.
She is everything.
Her hair, two strands stronger than the muscles in their legs.
Her locs will break chains and bind lies
Simultaneously.
They are worthless in her eyes
And no pity touches her heart
As she severs their spines.
They deserve no mercy and die
Without absolution.
They fear her.
She is everything they wish they could be.
She is everything they have ever dreamed.
She is everything they would kill to have.
But she will destroy them. And she will be free.