Hsanan | Poetry Vibe
Hsanan
This poet practices good karma and posts comments 6500
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Through poetry I have told the stories of my soul, as the universe, I am, and always will be. My soul expands once more, for I am fed the sacred fruit of knowledge, and love by my brothers, and sisters. Grasp my articulation, and reveal to me your soul, it is then you will see our souls are one. To know you is to know my lost self. To love you is to love the whole of my self. I have seen the seasons of your sorrow, and the precessions of your joy. I am truly blessed.

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Black Gathering

CATEGORY

life

Views: 330
I can't help but feel as if there was a world I had been taken away from.
Some experience I missed out on.
What was this Black energy.
The force that brought me such discomfort,
And where was I during its birth.
This alone makes me question my social position.
Am I where I should be. 
There is just something about the "aaaaayyyys", and the mysterious, and subtle movements of the feet that I just can't get with.
It's a culture I have been excluded from.
It makes me question my connection to my community.
An element of beauty missed.
I watched young women gaze at men as if these men were competing for them.
Giving a subtle nod and smile for a job well done.
This is beauty found in blackness.
Beauty that would make me a man.
Even through the distance 
I saw my soul in a few sisters I came across.
A vulnerability.
A beauty.
Love through eyes like mine.
Voices like my own.
A sensitivity.
Pain like my own.
I see my art,
I see my tears,
I see my love.
Black Love, and Black Pain.
 
I witnessed a Beautiful Black woman dance as if her body was the wind.
I heard her voice inside me,
And I felt her gaze settle on my own.
She gazed at me for less than a second 
but in that second her eyes told me that she understands me,
that she hears me. 
I came to realize from her soul that I am connected to this environment. 
My mind, which is filled of ancient words and art, separates me from most others.
But her..... I am connected to her.
I am connected to every leg sweep.
Every leap.
She is my Soul.
The show proceeded,
And another sister stepped forward.
She spoke of her anxiety and the pain she felt.
Her voice was soft and subtle, her words sprang from hesitant lips, and together we spoke.
My voice was not present,
but we spoke.
Her poetry showed me growth. It showed me courage like no other.
Here is this Beautiful sister,
A woman fighting through anxiety and pushing through a performance of a lifetime.
She then began to sing summertime by Sam Cooke.
Before this day I felt as if no one my age knew of this legend.
As she powerfully sung the words "now hush little baby, don't you shed a tear" 
I felt my eyes swell.
I felt a chill like no other.
Here was another goddess of my soul 
Speaking to me.
Where else would I belong 
Other than this place of beauty.
Art in its purest form.
That is who I am at the end of my days.
The artist.
And there is no greater art than the words of my people.

 

 

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