CHANGELING Changeling - walking down the street into slavery’s past. The street that brought the African from first to last. Looking into Fun House mirrors with distorted views.. Not one of them reflecting “Who are You”. Wandering through the life created by the social scientist, Who’s boxed you in the fables of the knight on an errant quest, Of being half best.. To where you have been in this land of milk and honey – laced with gin. Blindfolded on the street called, Integration, From first to last, to the men with no pasts. So when they look into their mirrors they see, Emptiness in a sub-economy In the pain and eyes of self-hate overflowing with the tears of the ‘not so great’. Your father’s look into your mirrors- but they don’t know you Are you truly the sons and daughters of Africa’s brew? Are you the daughters of Hatshepsut and Queen Bilqis of Sheba The Candace Queens of Nubia, sons of Tarhaqa and Mansa Musa? Changeling sons are all I see, with no reflections in their bearing of our glorious history.. There is no love for me in your changeling eyes – there is no Africaness in your MODERN disguise – SEEKING PARADISE Whether thou longest for paradise on the hardened stone you sit while seeking to express your desires in words of rhyme and wit. Seek it NOT in Mysteries Mysteries will always be but seek it in the effulgence of the Me in You and the You in Me! Seek it not in Tomorrow Tomorrow is always to come And all your days of dreaming are wasted when your Time is done. When all your longing for the Paradisiacal place you seek to find in some outer space lies right beneath your earthen feet in the eyes of each son and daughter of Man you meet in the magic of earthen man’s blood to flow in the waste as each paradisiacal journey’s begun in haste through the battle field’s mud and myriad temple through catechisms of doctrinaires too complex or simple in the ashes of death they view the paradise of life they now eschew until it’s too late your secret graves do not wait … THE DARK BEFORE DAYS From Time Eternal when there was no Sun To Light the Darkness as Days Are not you too like a sentient Sun emerged from the Dark before Days? From Time’s Primordial Haze? And back into Time like a withering bone to sink back into Time’s Well with the only thought troubling you is whether the next stop will be heaven or hell? All the while you politic with justice and right and wrong seeking the indubitable you just to be lost in the labyrinth’s maze seeking the False and the True with such a Thin Line separating the Two.
Posted on: Thu, 18 Jul 2013 14:43:57 +0000
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