Chocolate Sundays

Mental

The Civil Rights Movement

There was little room for error.  But they got a reputation for their courage. It was hard to settle down around those times. Sons and daughters of some Southern Sharecroppers decided it was time to break ground....test their fathers theory, you reap what you sow. They planted their feet on higher ground and stumbled upon a loop-hole. There it was in plain sight, concise and somewhat polite. “All Men Are Created Equal”. It made sense, yet for them there was no evidence. So they just ran with it, they ran so fast.. their wings scorched the ground. Some may say that they may have gotten to far ahead of of themselves but I believe that you should meet people where they are. Now that’s civil. But that, that  was war...

Time for Take Off

It was more than a welcome mat when you rose up...became bold enough.. to take your first step. I laid out before you the red carpet...made for heavy traffic...intertwined and embroidered  with the fibers of my every being.  But now you’re en route on a one-way pilgrimage with destiny.  The schoolmaster and hard-knocks poked me.. then whispered in my inner ear that your dreams are filled to the maximum capacity, and that I should take a detour.  I guess I’ll have to catch-up to you  after you've written your second bio...from 2nd Edition... from the book of...  The Life of...  Yeah... I placed five on a bet with your arch nemesis, i’ll be in the front row in the balcony, rooting for you, because little do he know,  I got the inside scoop as your lifelong personal trainer, that give me 50 drill sergeant.   So keep in mind that The key to life is etched in your heart, as a regular routine...

Yarbrough Family Tree

Untitled

The Word

Who Shall I Say

If my people shall humble themselves and call me by my name seems to be the scripture that is  tugging at my righteousness, my tongue is tied trying to get it right. Should my lips declare you as Yeshua in order to gain favor but my tongue has been tamed to speak in Jesus name or would it be safer to utter, my Lord and Savior eventhough it my hearts desire would be to speak solitary. Shameful of my tightfisted heart. Yet I do respect the blood that was sacrificed, I am compelled to spead your good works but what name would be appropriate, who shall I say sent me. Should I look for the signs between the earth and the stratosphere or if sun is radiating on my halo, heightening my divinity through my pineal gland. My love for you is devoted. I will postulate my good manners, considering and in all do respect no matter which way the pendulum swings you are always regarded as the Prince of Peace.

It's Method to This Madness

I AM

Wear it like a glove, damn proud of it. Organically grown, put a lable on it. Touch it, feels like smooth Eygptian Silk, tiptoe go slow and approach with caution. Confused faces is trying to play if off, yes it's a  thin line between love and hate. Affirmative and exquisite, can I get an Amen! This skin that I'm in can swell up the streets with a million African Americans, adding stress to your mess just to preserve our identity. Appointed, as earth's indispensable weapon, its our job to fight the terror of mass destruction, the evidence is in our swag and in our body language. Divinity is apart of our DNA. So, no matter how far you dig to find yourself, we'll perpetually be the conclusion in your unsolved mysteries, the last artifact layed to rest, living among the minerals that gave you breath. Like paint on a wall you will never be free of me. Reason being, listen close, I AM, who I AM, the salt of the earth one of the fearest African Americans.

MOTHERS

Narrow shoulders, resilient spine, she’s the innermost experience in our lives, as well as the giver of life. Holding on to gravity in her arms, keep life surprisingly calm, offering the right amount flavor so we can savor the moments in our unforeseen, motherless nights, meticulously passing-down her manners as a family heirloom to those who will soon wear her well, in her mother’s succeeding generations. If I could hide her wisdom from the rest of the world, I would seal it in a sea shell, so it would sit graciously, in the mutual company, inside of the beautiful luster of the, Cultured Mother Pearl. Sisters and brothers become divided nations in an endless conflict for this one woman’s undivided attention and only she has the finesse to end all the idle spitefulness with her oh so subtle, even-handedness.

A mother’s mane, floods the world with the senses of trustworthiness and at times you will find, her little ones running their curious...