

BridgingI am not Afrocentric. But centifugal forces pull me to my Afrikan people. And I keep trippin because police forces are brutal to my Afrikan people. And I can't believe that melanin encoded soldiers are killing our Afrikan people. I close my eyes and envision a beautiful nation filled with Afrikan people. From across the diaspora. From across the raging waters of oceans and troubled lifetimes. Through middle passage where Afrikan people disconected their own lifelines. Because in cruel, unyielding bondage they knew they would spend a lifetime. Taking their babies with them, showing them morBridging


The Id. . .Taking her to make themselves feel good, they call her Dimetap. He licks her, tastes her almost depleted elixir. Bitter to taste but sweet to touch. Pouring her on open wounds like alcohol. But she won't scream at all. Before she cries out she'll pause. And think. . . Maybe he is the one to pull me from the brink,The Id. . .
the edge, the very end of my world. But he won't save her. He don't wanna be, reminded of his own shortco


A Matter of IntrigueWhat good does dream, after dreamer awakens?A Matter of Intrigue
Do not dreams fleet with the first thought of consciousness?
Leaving in their stead lyrical fancie, meaningless, unrecognizable colors of moods, soft to the minds touch, almost intangible even to memory's hand.
And what of the dreamer?
Has not time been waste
Devious Comments
--
"Don't let anyone take rocks from your mountain."
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