Going to See the King

End of Days

Because I Doubt

Anyone Will Care About

My Feelings Beyond this Offering

It's the Offspring of Words Where I've Learned to Cope

Over the Years

I Sincerely Implore You to Let Me Just Get this Out…

I am So Confused

Though I Know this is the Path That We All Must Travel

Makes No Difference if We were to Refuse

But at Last

The Dawn of Death in Any Retrospect

Will Never Be Welcomed

I have No Idea What to Tell You

I am Numb

Not Entirely Sure if this is Surrender or Succumb

And Everyone Will Say,

"If You Need Anything, Don't Hesitate to Call"

Trust, No One Alive Can Help You

Though the Notion is Met with Hope

The Motion to Manifest is Always Seldom

Take a Walk

Take a Moment to Simply Breathe

Be Alone with Your Thoughts

Give Yourself Room to Grieve

Crying to Remember the Dying

Is ...

Black Beyond Measure

So, How far is it?

The Distance Between Botswana and Mississippi-

13,468 Kilometers

Lower Carboniferous

Mixed with the Differences of The Gumboot in Wellington Shoes And Delta’s Blues Blaring from Our Speakers

Where Teacher’s Taught Us the Colonizers Agenda

Consensus to Referendum

Even Before We were Allowed to Read

Only to Breathe in the Chrissake

Of the Skin I Was Sentenced to Ever Be

Ancestors Mention Me in the Whispers

Empath's Brag They Hear Regularly

Measure the Depth of that Which Exceeds Rulers

Leo Frank, Lynched in Leland,

Left Lingering Against Trees Like Latitude

Judged By the Owners of Oxford’s Latifundia

Appraised By the Right Who Recites the Feudal

Rebellion Becomes Ritual

Black is Still Beautiful

As Usual, Solely to the Beholder’s Around My Way

Corner Boys Armed w...

Going to See the King

My earliest recollection

Standing there in front of Grandmother's curio cabinet

Staring at the picture of the dark-skinned people in the frame

They resemble me, but darker

Deep hues captured by shadows and light

Detailing the beads of sweat and look of constant frustration

It was much warmer then

The lines in their face has stories written upon them

The bright in their eyes, screaming at hope

A past thesis for the future smiles, that we are privileged to witness now

Presents us struggled

We display survival

Surpassing our predecessors only in color

Lacking their heart

Heard beating on the picture during developing

Every once in a while

Shaking the frame

I stand there frozen, as a child

Staring at those pictures in Grandmother's curio cabinet

Counting how many times the frames shook on the shelf

It wasn't...

Life Outside Windows

Life Outside Windows

Moves at the Speed of Speakeasy

Greasy Tabletops

Stained By the Prints of Condensation

Left Behind from What was Once Solid Inside

I Reside in a Community of Corners

Pitching Quaters in a Jukebox

Playing the Soundtrack to Our Lives

Mama and Papa's "California Dreaming"

Finds Us Lingering

Between the Bar and the Bathroom

The Juxtaposition of a Players Jive

We Thrive Beside the Lies of Their Leisure

The Meager Receivers Behind

My Blood Shot Eyes

I's Won't Fuss Like this with Nobody But You

Tell Me, What Must I Do

To Leave here Yours

Sudden Illumination Singing the

Chorus of Alcohols Last Call

Resembling Flashlights of the

Gestapo's Gall

They Will Only Offer Us Bullets for Curfews

Hey Bartender!