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We have been brutalized for being birth of colors, but just look around us, the earth is covered in a multitude of colors, a beauty to the eyes that shed tears, and a fear that has enslaved us in our own minds like we are color blind, and I'm not speaking of the old times when we were sold from the auction block to the plantation, see in this new creation it's called the pre-school to prison pipeline, black faces with a white mind, midnight nightmares as the light shine off the clad coin of the quarter and the dime... What do we really know about the invisible lines that control our minds and give us a general idea and patterns of living, mathematical codes that describe our lives on the chalkboard, uncharted roads that unfold like the Da Vinci code, 2,000 years of religious mystery, a secret society closely guarded by foundations of information through letters of the alphabet, punctuation marks arranged by dots, dashes, and spaces, and I just telecommunicate the method of different racism, yet, How can a system know me better than I know myself?... Have they studied my life through my death through the calculation of my breath, that each time that I breathe, I give them the reality of myself... and ask yourself... How often do we reach out into their lives, The way they seamlessly move in and out of our lives?...but one momentary interaction can remind even an aging narcissist that there's life outside of our own...
I wasn't born in America, I was birth under the American system, where we are mentally whipped into shape like Godzilla, I'm a living witness of this psychological warfare, tactics used to reduce our morale and our will to fight, fear and intimidation, deception is a weapon, like a rich tapestry of stories, tragedy and resilience are canvas in the threads of my life...I write poetry of my life, softly spoken with unremarkable love for my people, but with a dignity of strength unseen to the natural eyes, naked lies, ripping through our lives like razor blades, legs, arms, head, I've taken each knock after knock, but find the strength to get back up, for failure and I have became friends, pleasure has became pain, for I've seen the worst of heartbreaks, but I continue to live in this rib shape cage, age after age, slapped by rage, as I live with the best of hearts and make the right decisions, as the world around me live in chaos, where our limits are tested and our principles have became death threats, with our backs against the wall in this death trapped, only to see Who we really are, or what it is that we really stare once we exit the womb of the moon, like a moth in a cocoon, caterpillars becomes butterflies in the prison of America hands, that not even a poor fool will Know how it feels to be in society with shackles on your feet and hands, and every hair is numbered like every grain of sand in this blind bitter land as I grew weary under the sun in this dragon guarded land, where our fate has been changed by others hands, but we seem to lack the eye to understand constant demands, constant expand of an outrageous plan that command us to stand as one individual life alone upon the threshold of a shadow soul, bold, in this dark hole that comfort and console a tortured soul with no mind to console this pain, through blurry eyes where we don't see who we trying to be, So the key is a question of control, as the waves gathered powerless here to sprinkle ashes in the empty bowl...
Hold the milk!... this vomiting of anguish, an eruption of radiated energy slake the thirst that burns in me through the night to heal the bruises as the mouth of the mountain swallow me whole, as I'm being folded like the pages of history,ages of whispered hatred is taught to me through the pages of history, layer of misery feels like cases of artillery, why I'm fighting on the battleground of misery of this mystery, as this system constantly lust after my dark flesh for their property, I am a victim to victory that add insult to my injury, as I stand in front of this madness like a child that screams from his wildest dreams, as the world rotate like a rotisserie, conspiracies and mysteries, science-fiction and make-believe, surrounded in it's mystery, with Jesus on the cross in a total misery, yet, I'm introduce to memories but no liberty only centuries of deliver pain, like a run away train has invaded my veins time and time again, I'm drowning in pain, as I fight death with a dull sword... How can I be the criminal, when I'm the crime scene canvas of blink pages, the dawn before day, that break away like dry clay... How can I stay away as the decay of life stray like the rains of yesterday, with the U.S. flag upon display, only to remind me that my ancestors came from miles away...So why should I obey the system of yesterday that led the people astray, that we have lost our way, as they set the rules that define the roles we play....
So I say, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, the lost star is us, we're made of the same elements as the stars, and yet, we're a million times more fragile,, because death gathers dust, death may be the greatest of all human blessings, but our souls cannot simply dwell in the dust, see, like the dust, we will rise again and make our presence known, long after we're gone, in the beauty of colors you'll see us... Colors... July 14, 2023... written by Sa Ra Safari Messiah Kamau
