• Umoja 2018

    26 Dec 2018
    Being African American, Journal Style!

    (Umoja) as “a principle and practice of togetherness in all things good and of mutual benefit” and as “a principled and harmonious togetherness, not simply a being together.”

    Umoja:

    Two Doors

    One Opened

    My kin exited, never to look back

    The Door closed

    So, what’s left?

    Left were questions, subjection, incoherence, fear, and abandonment

     “why”

    The Second Door Opened

    True entities

    True spirits

    Enter and abided

    Beings of different races

    Beings of different religions

    Beings of different occupations

    Beings, designed for me and my journey

    Beings who were my answer to the question asked: “Why”?

    For

    Why no longer matter

    The Angels of heaven said:

    “These beings are your family”

    “These beings hold your heart”

    Not because of a job

    Not for accolades

    Just because! Just because, they see your heart!

    This is your unity, the village God has chosen for you

    These being are your connections

    Examples to keep living

    These beings are your examples of”

    UMOJA! Joyous Kwanzaa

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  • I am never alone.

    14 Mar 2018
    My Story, My Story, Journal Style!

    With the many faces, I see

    The many voices I never hear

    As long as the season change

    As long as children still play and laugh

    As long as babies are born

    As long as trees give shade in the sunlight

    Days are longer, not shorter

    And the Sun rises as the Moon Sets

    I am never alone

     

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  • Black Belief!

    1 Mar 2018
    Being African American, Great Quotes By Ordinary People, Journal Style!, My Story, Topic Thought.

    I believe I am the answered prayer of a slave.

    I believe that the God of my slave ancestors is outside of religion space and time

    I believe that God is consistent and his word is his bond (promises)!

    He promised:

    hell on earth

    calamity and suffering; on this he was clear

    I know of the suffering of the black slaves

    I know the suffering of generations to come and I empathize and stand to chant

    BLACK LIVES MATTER

    God’s truth holds in court

    God assures peaks of peace and times of prosperous soulful restoration

    the movement and belief that BlACK LIVES MATTER

    witnesses to the struggle of souls

    and the promised and answered prayers of slaves

    that we would marry wisdom, dance with destiny and find peace in chaos

    Proclaim our integrity

    We will walk along with the historical negro voices

    Our feet will hit rock, and legs will get scarred

    Our voices will unite in a war cry

    then, you will see our war dance

    My people, My black people:

    Stand with justice

    And, light lady liberty’s flame

    Be proud of our kinky hair and dark skin.

    Black is beautiful.

    God did not give us reason for doubt

    But, he (God) promised a journey unlike any humans and overwhelming opportunities

    I always wonder one day beside my name will they say “first negro to accomplish this” (whatever “this” is)

    I was once a slave

    But now we awaken and is FREE!

    I was a slave until those cops killed my black brothers and sisters

    I was a slave until I was denied rights based on the color of my skin

    I was a slave until, I realized as a race, as a people; whom we were meant to be.

    “Like Dust, I RISE!” Angelou said

    For we are the rhythm and beat of a negro hymn

    We triumph in memory believing, God is with us and gave a new name, a new identity and called us to a high calling

    He called us his people, then he called us friend

    and birthed us purposefully in an era of change, reconstruction, and opportunity

    This is what I believe!

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  • I am Broken!

    1 Mar 2018
    Journal Style!, My Story

    I’m broken:

    but my wings are not clipped

    I’m a witness to my humanity

    and I own it

    I can’t run like the old days

    but that doesn’t mean I can’t jog

    I finally feel human

    the continuous struggle adjacent to the habitual strive

    I get it! I’m human

    and I own it

    my soul has been broken

    my voice has been stolen

    my tears flow continuously

    my eye bear witness to my humanity

    I speak with a pen

    until the day my voice is needed

    with every step, I enter into a battle

    equipped to with the spirit of a fighter

    I am fighting a human race

    I often wake up to yesterday

    from a dream about tomorrow

    I feel and know

    my brokenness

    Broken enough to survive

    Broken enough to pray

    Broken enough to smile

    Broken enough to strive for healing

    To be planted in the dirt

    To be watered as I am the seed

    and like dust, the poet said “I rise”

    To challenge history and gain authority

    to know that the only way up, is down

    the only way to come on top is to own one’s own brokenness

    Young Man, Young Woman

    no true soul conquers their journey from the top

    that soul goes low

    and then it is high.

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