Moments
Moments to pray in the light of night,
When the shadow of doubt no longer,
Linger in his heart in the daylight.
Daylight with all its violence and,
Destruction in the cities as fires burn,
People beaten by the police and jeeps,
Passing with their antennas blowing
It is all familiar the sounds of chaos
Without the dogs and water hoses in
1960s leading to 2020 nothing changed,
And it all is a circle of confusing.
Prayer in the midnight hour as the fan,
Continues to rotate above his head,
He sees the darkness of the daylight
In the light of the moon at midnight.
9-7-2020
Circles
It all is a circle of life and death,
Of destruction and hopeless,
Generations after generations.
It circles like the smoke during,
The riots of 68 in Chocolate City,
There was nothing sweet about the,
Violence and the beatings like in the
Killing of Emmitt Till in 1955 and
The assassination of Martin Luther King,
In 68 when the fire storms came,
And the smoke circled around and
Around going into the night skies.
9-7-2020
Emmett Till
Emmett have you found your peace?
As they murdered you in 55 for looking
At a white woman and speaking to her?
Have they planted flowers on your grave?
Or have they vandalized your memorial?
As the hate continues to flow in 2020.
Robes of discontent and hate are being,
Worn as they parade down the streets,
No longer worrying about Justice for
You and me as our dark skin is a threat,
To their way of life and they are fearful,
Of the truth that we are free to look.
9-7-2020
Seeing the Truth
It is midnight going into the wee hours,
Of the morning as he kneels by his bed,
Praying and praying not knowing his,
Way to solace in his life after 63 years,
Of life that his brought misery and pain,
Full circle of the pain of life as his,
Brothers are being killed one by one,
In the streets by those who protect and,
Serve not us as we are being dehumanized,
Leading us not to the land of freedom,
But rather to the land of eternal sleep.
9-7-2020
Hopes that are Fading
His ancestors had hope as they prayed in the fields,
Picking cotton and being whipped and they song,
About their freedom of one day seeing God.
His generation does not see their scars on their,
Backs because they are not aware that they are.
Slaves in the 21st century as one by one they are,
Beating with the new cat’o nine tails.
No longer are they singing about seeing God,
In their life they only see that they are dying,
In the streets of cotton made of false truths,
As they stand of the corners looking into the abyss.
There are no songs inside of them looking for God.
9-7-2020
Good Night My Love
As the fan rotates and the moon disappears,
With the coming of dawn comes into view,
He thinks of you and your love for him,
Thinking of the sweetness of your soul.
As he lay in the field of cotton alone,
Seeking to find you in his dreams,
He looks at the sunrise and he says,
One last prayer to God and closes his eyes.
9-7-2020
Wind and Rain
When the wind blow and the rain fell,
His thoughts were on God in heaven,
No more did dying bring fear to him.
As the wind blow and the rain fell,
He knew that God loved him and,
He prayed his prayer that he knew,
In his heart from when he was a boy,
God would always hold him and protect,
Him when the wind blew, and the rain fell.
9-7-2020