KWANZAA
Shall I dare,
Now that I am aware,
To don the robes of glory and fix up my hair.
For this cross and crown of thorns have become wings
and a halo,
Liberating my soul,
No longer shall I fold under the pressures of life,
For my inner paradox has become 1,
Self sustaining like the sun,
Collectively Cooperating from when my tribulations
begun.
No longer shall I run into the mouth of the beast,
But use my sword from the East to open its belly,
Freeing the souls of those that came before me.
No longer shall I purr & pose like a kitten,
But roar like the lion of the sphinx.
That old way of thinking,
Seeing my skin tone as a jinx,
But shining like burnt brass.
Although I still bear the marks of the beast, I'm un-
plugged from the Matrix,
Those mind tricks,
Illusions of selling drugs & doing sticks.
My sword has become my words,
That I use to pierce the minds of the herds,
My sheep,
And I shall be their shepherd,
Allowing them to graze from the Tree of Life,
The Lamb's Book
No longer called a crook,
But Sun of Man,
Son of Mind,
Son of God.
by Leonard Jackson
2015 jan 31
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2015 jan 31
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