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While I am sitting upon your family jewels, Hebrew man, and deep within my sacred oracle, the throbbing tip of your width locked into the realm of my soul
Whisper to me in Arabic how our spirits upon Heaven once patrolled
My love, I was the silken passage of Utopia upon a Nirvana’s wish, I laid upon your royal silken sheet as I softly consoled
In and out of time as my mystique patrolled
We will always be a rebirthed mystical story
The temple of Ying of Yang, the rain and storms to withstand the pangs, our voices above the clouds, blood sealed upon consecrated scrolls, tells of its glory
As I cup your handsome Moorish face, and you look deep into the window of my eyes
Oh, sweet mercy, my love, you feel so good when I am gyrating, and you are thrusting upward between my Creole thighs
Let’s astral travel with the pulsates of our hearts, hand-in-hand, losing our silhouettes in the midst of the sublime
To a divine realm before the creation of time
Soft pieces of my divine energy I commence to the wind
The trees sway and bow as I pass, unto me they tenderly bend
They tell me stories the common man could never hear
My footsteps on the soil of Mother Earth, humanity should never fear
I am there, everywhere, in my words, my passion to live you will always hear
The Summer Sun
Upon grace, my will shall be done
From my bone marrow, kissed and blessed by and by
I stand with you, for you, but never boisterous unto my Creator to officiate myths to fabricate mistruths where my realities will ever stand as lies
And I tell you why
In my mind my free spirit runs, off the ground, unto Heaven, my soul flies
As I come to read the sepia pages of lost time and the wisdom it provides
May the serenity of the knowledge it ensues soothe my intellect as it coats as given from the skies
Give me liberty from the chaos found in death where awaited souls are in exile
Upon the trenches, wading in the waters, my hues have traveled by the North Star mile after mile
In the sorrowful breeze of the wind
The scars upon all my descendants’ beautiful skin, will time ever mend
Bloody gashes, reminisce, raised voices for unforgiven reparations, I have come to defend
Emancipation by the signature of apartheid, here on display to commend
I am the femininity of my Hebrew ancestors, who in spiritual revolt to have given birth to the passage of my lineage
The war to stand in equality for woman, man, child is not over, it is not near finished
The Black Madonna concealed in sepia translation in Catholicism’s vault
Stolen generational birthrights in Dawn’s Early light, in your day, still refusing to set history right
To the elements of your presence swivels, but not on a higher naught I still feel the anger, the colonization of my land by the captor’s hands Belittle as vermin, hunted, then shackled by the feet, hands, once sought
Independence still rings, let your voice always give praise to sing
Tell me you are beyond Earth with spheres of foretold
In death, has the path of Heaven encased your soul
I’ve seen your face, tasted your hidden tears, before your obligation to life has been given
The Earthly Cherub upon the world, the Book Of Revelations scarred upon your back, humanity in silence asking to be forgiven
The sobs from the grave of the forefathers’ seeps in my heart, their minds tell me occurrences eyes should have never seen
Peace from their truth, the fight for freedom is only found in civilizations’ daydreams
The book of me, myself, bowing to the wonders of the pineal gland, the wondrous of third divine (i)
The benediction of grace from the Sea, Earth and the sacred cove found in the Sky
In the salutation of benediction to the constellations
Deaf ears ring not of divine adaptations
Blind eyes in harmony where voices fear to sing
Bow unto the gales, in the coldest of times
What good to remain in the dark, when footsteps to reach greater good do not chime
In the view of surmise the Dove shall seek to find
New ground to give weary wings thy rest
Soulful rejoicing unto me, my soul, my heart, my mind, a love affair with Heaven’s scrolls at best
I have coveted the Rainbows, the Stars, the Moon, the Sea in and out my lifetime
The King, The Dukes, and Earls as the softest apple of their sunrise
What good is a man’s virility, who loves the world but forgets the shadows of his own soul
Whispering falsehood as the cold winter breeze blows
Well, my love that is our tale of beginning and never an ending, your heart and mine blend
As the Sky with its beautiful gifts will always shine to you on the gentle murmurs when faith and destiny mend
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