ELEMENTARY

 

 

For years they have violated the elementary principles of human dignity, using naive concepts and out dated applications of the 19th century . So far  the  revolution  is  no thing  more  than  institutions  made  up of different schools  of  thoughts,  by  Black  leaders  yelling  at  whomever will stop long enough to get their  point

ELEMENTARY

across . The  media  would  have  you think that  I  am  some  kinda right-winged activist , I didn’t walk 10 miles to school but I’m gonna tell this story  the way  I see fit .

I’m a strong Black man  holding on to something more than a picket sign in the street or searching for a testimony or a catchy line in a speech. The estrangement of man from nature began with a test , which sent him in a pictorial decline in an attempt to hide his own  nakedness . Early  on  we  made  light of man’s God given  right to be free, so I baptized this message in terms of linguistic artistry. By approaching this problem of slave sustenance chronologically, we find that the Sphinx is the personified symbol of the riddle we seek.

These deprivations affecting  the functioning capacity in my case, has left  a  deep  impression  upon  the  entire  development of our race . But this has  to  be  our  fight I can’t possibly bear the burden of being a prophet. Lonely  nights I toss  and  turn  saying  to myself,  tomorrow  could  be  it . Then there  are  other  nights  I lie in  bed  not knowing  what’s  real or  what’s  fake and if by chance I’m   in a dream, then tie both of my feet to a stake. I’ll seek beauty in my soul, far beyond the borders of this land and when there is nothing left to console me. I’ll find comfort in who I am.

MAESTRO SPEAKS

A SPIRIT WAITING TO BE BORN

A spirit waiting to be born

The moment of great chance stirs

Hidden potential buried beneath the surface… It sits

Aversion to it’s wisdom is futile

For the embodiment of humanity reside therein

A seed that could change the way we view the world

Born free, delivered by flight

Among a dawning age a dream takes flight

Theft never giveth

Yet, alms never taketh away

Shall speaketh any spilled blood unto the earth

After all, I am my BROTHER’S keeper

For a man’s blood is sacred

Fueled by the spirit of eternity everlasting

Let there be enlightenment!

Thus, the fluid of kinship flows

Man is but a bundle of relations

A mere knot of roots, whose complexity

Can be encountered in me

 

“In light of gold, fire purges the soul

Bringing forth brilliance out of darkness.

Which inevitably manifest itself in the form

Of a blood clot, nestled along divine corridors 

Ultimately, leading us a step closer to  our finality.”

 

An excerpt from “Archives of A BLACK MAN” written

by Antonio Moses

 

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Maestro Speaks

BATTLE CRIES

In the mist of dawn and aging night it falls. Scattered secrets erupt after skeleton’s in our closet and monsters from our wildest dreams surface. Infidelity has shown both sides of its face and tainted views dampen the curiosity, pouring out hurtful word and damaging images on the floor. Confused we often fall. In a world of raging storms, in the garden where temptation was born, we somehow lost our innocence. Strangled by hypocrisy, we exist, not at all aware of the happiness we missed. My heart tells me one thing, but the walls whisper another. Their words are like a memory drifting through leaves, obscured with lies intended to disfigure and destroy. So where do we draw the line? Or better yet, can the love we lost be found? Are we destined to reclaim evenings which cause us so much despair? Hasn’t enough words been said about that one night love affair? Who am I trying to convince, the jury is out. The scars of war often remind me, love can sometimes be your biggest adversary.