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In the void September 27, 2007

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There is a place for the void –

the space where the magic of birth happens,

the conceived mystery that transforms

slowly,

surely,

into the light-view of

the cross road to the known

 

Calling quietly,

darkness threatens the unprepared –

conjuring fear to do its predictable work

Yet, in the mind of

the initiated voyagers

whose eyes have seen

life in its puzzled blur,

trustingly awaits for sunlight

as a sign to move towards the Falconer

 

In this void,

this Spirit appointed teacher

of the virtues of patience

and sacrifice,

holds the hails of

the playful coyote,

the watch-dog of gods

as they gaze to know

if you trust them.

 

Humbled I am to trust them,

I thank the void as

I leap and

Conquer my fears

As I move past them

 

Yes in this void,

I  see…

Other Minded September 17, 2007

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In order to think more clearly,

I have decided to be other minded –

Mother minded,

as another way to describe this other…

 

Actively,

permitting myself to

follow the hidden path

from my heart

to my head –

this path which follows me

(instead of the other way around)

 

Revolutions of earth spins

will show if this otherness

Actually

grounds to motherness –

the only thing I seek,

my true story unfolding.

AIDS September 15, 2007

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Acquired.

Immuno.

Deficiency.

Syndrome

The number one killer – the silent war within. The not so silent gaps once filled by human faces and stories that woke up groggily at 6am, complained about high gas prices, circulated e-mail forwards for good luck and bumped past you on the street in a sometimes unwelcomed confrontation of souls.

One by one,

These gaps where they once stood, sat, shat, spat..lay empty for a mournful moment to be acknowledged that they were acquired by a syndrome whose singular goal was to deficiently inspire immunity to all that’s wrong for the body.

And this story,

Whose origin and

vicious acquisition

pre-dates HIV

and post-dates any

drug to be discovered

and marketed to an already drugged up and bankrupt population suffering from this syndrome whose only mission is to defy and convince the body that lies are truths and wrongs are right.

This story

that leaves US caught in headlights, and like the deer, unable to move because fright won the fight over proper response to

Terrorism.

Racism.

Sexism.

We live in a world of skewed schisms fractionalizing wholeness to the uninitiated, bump-and-grind drum sounds of fear inspired madness.

There is no mystery

to this incessant

and illogical

existence

that continues to acquire deficiency, and reproduces more deficiency and irregularities as the mass of indigenes (now called citizens)are numb to the mathematical error that is our lives.

We got the Cuban 5

the Jena 6

the San Francisco 8

Prisons over-populated with black and brown bodies, Women acquiring black and blue bruises in 15 second increments, Children forced to be participantsof the 1-in-4-get-raped game

And yet,

Still,

We don’t even know our names!

and rapidly loosing interest

in finding out.

But time is running out. Ironically, the universe still keeps proper count –

Earth quakes and shifts off

her axis to rifts of

household names like

Katrina and Rita…

And this poem ain’t no word play

just for literal wit or recognition –

for there is no genius greater than the genius of Us when we begin to see

and act based on sight – connect the dots to dis-ease is all I’m saying…

No

more

Acquired.

Immuno.

Deficiency.

Syndrome

is what I’m praying.

Eclipse of Terror September 12, 2007

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We are

successfully

terrorized.

The war is won.

The sun has

eclipsed on

Past glorious days

when We

knew Ourselves

fearlessly.

 

Now,

We cower

from trauma

imposed by CoIntelPro –

We stoop

to tremendous feats

of living unlivable lives.

We struggle

to struggle.

 

We –

Descendants of revolutions

of increasing diluted glory

We fight

To remember that

We exist on

a battlefield.

So while we’re down

for the count

with the ancestral referees’

decreasing numerical

motivation to urge

Us to move

With every earth-shifting

Tsunami

Earthquake

Suicide bomb.

 

We are urged

to awaken

from the fear inspired

madness

that has Us

craving medications

to numb

the feelings of

incompleteness accrued

from centuries

of compliance to disobedience.

 

Dependent on illusions,

We re-colonize

strategically with

the master’s tools,

(and mindset)

digging our own graves

fooling no one but Ourselves.

Insane we must be!

Yet still,

In the medicine cabinet

the only drug untouched –

the antidote to freedom

collects dust

due to the witchcraft

that has Us

trembling

at work and sacrifice.

 

Yes, we are terrorized.

Defeated but not exterminated.

Slowly

We re-awaken from

Our conquered slumber.

 

Remember:

 

Eclipses

are only temporary victories –

for the sun shines

unapologetically ever after.

 

The Warfare in You September 8, 2007

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What have we lost,

What have we gained,

Is it a trade off

If now we’re insane?

 

To have shiny things

At the price our names,

To be still in bondage

With no one to blame

 

We’re stuck in the mud,

Our feet trapped by thoughts

Participants in oppression

Of the have and have nots

 

There’s blood on all hands

So be careful but true

Realize what the fight is —

It’s the warfare in you

 

It’s the choices we make,

The moves we take,

All movement isn’t action,

So choose your own fate

 

Don’t call on revolution,

Unless you’re prepared

To face your own demons

‘Cause now all is shared

 

There’s blood on all hands

So be careful but true

Realize what the fight is —

It’s the warfare in you

Eh Woh! September 5, 2007

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Eh woh!

 

I’m tired of feeling like I’m all alone out here –

Hand stretched out yet set on goal.

Don’t want to be alone if I don’t have to be

but seeing what I’ve seen,

Knowing what I’ve known,

Crowning my throne

Polishing my choke hold so I can see it in the darkness –

Like the North Star shinning on

Mama Harriet in bondage

so she could see these unknown knowns which I now know too…

 

But I’m tired of being alone.

 

Heart open waiting for

my king to sit on his throne next to me

Heart open waiting for connections

that surpass momentary errections –

but don’t be mistaken we be having some love making:

 

No faking

No fronting

Confronting this something

That ‘nothing’

we’ll talk about it.

Train our visions to quest for more than the ordinary

We be living revolutionary:

Planting,

Building,

Refusing these deluding neo-colonial tools

set to keep us apart

so we build sustainable villages around our hearts

in order to protect against these impositions

on what proper relations

between a Queen

and her King

need to look like and feel like.

 

So, I wait.

Lips puckered up,

Fists raised up,

Spirits interlocked –

 

We be

poster children

for what post 2012 love

could be and

will be.

 

And so I wait,

hand stretched out I wait…

And so I wait,

hand stretched out I wait.