Taste The Rainbow

If I could taste the rainbow and the color of it sweetness.
If I could taste the mystery of all of its uniqueness
I believe the end would be bittersweet.
A taste so worthy, yet so far out of reach.
If I could taste the rainbow, would it be the flavor of Emmit Till’s
whistle, or the words he spoke to the white woman at the store?
Tell me why is it such a chore, to obtain the freedom we are fighting for?
Jessie Jackson  developed the Rainbow Coalition.
I’m not sure if he was led by God, or his own intuition.
Maybe marching with the King, robbed him of any inhibitions.
His attempt to PUSH the rainbow and create a Safe Haven,
A place for little black girls and boys of Chicago to play in.
A political platform, so to speak.
But black children in Chicago are still dying in the streets.
I find myself still chasing a taste of the rainbow of his dreams.
Brown vs the Board of Education was suppose to end segregation,
Yet, the division still exist.
Marked by the poverty lines and tax dollars,
Unfair testing, and no books for the poor.
Why is it such a chore, to obtain the freedom we keep fighting for?
Chasing the colors of the rainbow, wanting to taste equality.
If I could taste the rainbow that Martin Luther King dreamed,
Non-violent and united we’d stand, tasting the sweetness of the rainbows in the land.
Mr. ROY G BIV, when will you give us a chance to live?
I know that black absorbs all light,
So our color is not seen in the prisms of light, but we still fight!
Fighting to be recognize as Women and Men.
Not judge for the color of our skin.
God promised never to destroy the earth with rain again,
That is why He created the rainbow, to remind us, never again!
Yet you can’t see killing us as a sin, because of the melanin in our skin?
We can’t enjoy the promise because you keep enslaving and slaying our men!
Slaying them with nooses, guns, and chains.
Slaying with them words, media and fame.
Slaying them with disrespect, segregation, and incarceration.
Killing our voices in the sounds of the storm,
Yet no rainbow exist in my window pane.
Only the names of the black men that you’ve slain!
Emmit Till, Medgar Evans, Martin Luther King,
So many other whose names  we don’t  know.
Now Trayvone Martin, murdered for wearing a hoodie and desiring a cold ice tea,
Gun down in the street. Stand your Ground? There is blood at your feet!
He was simply trying to taste the rainbow. Yet, I will not admit defeat!
I want to enjoy the taste of the rainbow, in this life time!
Enjoy the color spectrum one color at a time,
Smell the aroma of the colors and savor the essence of its presence,
Feeling free to walk down the street, and taste a rainbow in the flavor of peace!

CONVERSATIONS

Come have a conversation with me.
Something that actually is equivalent to communication.
Words that are put together to generate elevation, stimulations, and even laughter.  Please disregard all conversation related to my anatomy
and for those slow on the uptake, that is the same as my physique.
Of course I want to know you really like my smile,
and thank you for the compliment on my pretty brown eyes.
But can we talk about something that will stimulate my mind? Continue reading

Lost Treasures

Have you ever tried to find a treasure hidden in the trash?
The thought of going through the mess, causes an unseen rash.
Your skin is crawling from the inside out, with the mess before your eyes.
Yet, this is what you have to search through, to uncover the hidden prize!
Be careful not to dirty your hands, as this will lengthen the search.
Your treasure only responds to hands untouched of human dirt!
Your treasure will not respond to untamed thoughts,
It cannot hear the quiet cries of low-esteem.
Your treasure is hidden below the mess, awaiting the discovery of a queen!
You must be polished and rehearsed on spiritual things.
As often times evil animals, taken on the form of good.
These beings suck your life, draining the power within.
They leave you left behind, with the awful stench of sin.
Causing your treasure to be buried deeper in the garbage that holds your destiny.
The smell of sin, delaying the discovery of your treasure to be free.
I started out trying to maintain my status of a queen.
But the dirty pile of leftover things caused an irremovable stain.
The detestable scent leaving no glory for my name.
Head held low, I’ve stopped searching through the trash.
No belief in hidden treasures and itching from the imagined rash.
I had some mentors, and heard some successes, from experts in the craft.
With all that knowledge, I still failed to walk into the light.
So I washed my hands and sat on them as darkness took the stage.
Praying that the trash will somehow disappear and the stench of sin would fade.
Then my treasure would mount with wings and take me on that ride,
Where treasure are selected from strong trees, with deep roots, and visions of destiny.
In that place, I pray to God, my treasure will be looking for me!

I Sing!

Today is my Birthday! I am 42 years young!
So off key in the song of life!
But I ain’t afraid to sang!
In my off key harmony,
I sang about the blessings God has bestowed me!
I sang of the broken hearts and scraped knees.
I sang the bible scriptures written in my heart.
I sang I am a poet but I respect all arts!
I sang the blues about my 6 foot 8 son quitting school!
I sang jazzy beats of hip hop!
Cuz my daughter is Graduating! Soaring to the top!
I sang Neo Soul, slow, with a body rock,
to the drug addicts sucking a pipe.
I sing cabaret style when working with clients taking their life.
I have a pop artist beat and some rocking roll for working with people I don’t even know.
Yet, I recognize the face of child that has been beat.
I clap my hands, snap my fingers, but I can never
catch the rhythm they are living in!
I sang past the emotions of eating my problems.
I sang about the death of my mother, grandmother, and Aunt!
The tune changes, the beat drops low, the words, break in an ebonic format
I try to catch the melodic phrase of words placed in a pattern that tickles the hearts
of lovers, enlightens the minds of the deep, embraces the spirit of those seeking God.
Sometimes the music fades soft and the words grow loud and all they can hear is the off beat harmony of Good intentions!
I still sing!
I am 42 years young, and I’ve sung a song a many a day!
Off beat, out of tune, broken, Happy and accompanied by Joy! I sing!