209500
4
A griot beats a drum all day
without pause, as if in prayer...
As children play chasing grasshoppers
for snacks
get drawn in by the hypnotic beat
causing an awakening, inside
delivering the word
though none has been spoken
yet, once the silence
was broken
ripples of soul magic flowed
began to create sparks
which touched the hearts
of those most ready to listen
a subtle change
imperceptible, occurred
before a brief pause
for silence
he softly spoke
building from brief rounds
of non-sensible
utterances
using silly, childish syllables
morphing to words
in a simplistic version of expression
what we now call scat
people gathered around the fire
listening intently, to this...
somewhat inspired poetry
instilling messages of love...
serendipity, perhaps
for a people
Raised on love
praised by the almighty
Creator of a divine love
cast like bones
upon human beings
from above
to be shared openly and freely
and you, who knowing
what it is to be oppressed...
fighting tyranny,
at least a failure
to believe worthiness
as the primary platform
and no suggestion of failure
etched in to the equation
as judgement against those souls
before even recognition
of progress shown by history
Made resistance to hell instilled by jealousy
inflicted out of fear turned to rage of retribution
of sins against those you'd once called slaves...
as if the beginning met the end
a world of make-believe
pretending all is fair in love and war
but those among you who saw only brothers
of humanity subject to an insane philosophy
a disease... based upon greed
and a bias which could not be achieved...
much less believed by anyone, with eyes to see
without a real potential to be achieved...
exposed as lies, by those who dispise
went to war as preordained because its cause was
fundamentally flawed, based on fear
the supposed inferiority
because your greed
had expanded the seed
of Abraham
and victory could not be achieved
without extraordinary measures
to restrict and retard
what achievement was evident
a small light
which could not be suppressed
no matter how much
history was ignored... and subverted
to suggest success was fully
under your control
against a people who
made music do...
what you could not do
express sincere emotion
no matter which instrument
was played...
free from the illusion
of what a people represent
works are only signs
of an ability to achieve
past the grief to which
they have been subjected
carrying crosses for you
to be rejected
as if, a subjective truth
covered by a plethora of lies
come time for the bill
to be paid...
not to us
To God
who you know not
C2
