The Last Dragon
I want to apologize for the absence, but your man has had a lot of things on his mind. I am back though stronger than ever and I have realized that MY Truth is just that; MY Truth. I am tired of trying to be politically correct or trying not to offend people. If you can’t take it, don’t read it. If you read it and don’t like it still, send me an email and convince me that I am wrong. It’s all love. Sho-Nuff is back in the building; I am the Master…lol. So anyway, I have decided to offer up more of my ORIGINAL writings that may or not make my next book. Let me know what you think and enjoy.
Old Soul
I know a lot of you may not understand this, but I am an old soul
An old soul that comes from the feelings, not the place
From the mental, not the time
From the struggle, not the grind
From the words and not the rhyme
I am an Old Soul
I manifested from the Mighty Clouds of Joy, from sunny days of despair, from my mother moaning Oooh Child to my father whispering I’ll Take You There
From the days of watching the ships roll in and watching them roll away again to excusing myself while I kissed the sky to knowing it will all get better by and by
I’m from the days of partaking in forbidden temptations while telling my woman to turn off the lights for this mental stimulation.
I’m from the time of ground-breakers, money-makers, coke takers and baby-makers
You just don’t know, I am an Old Soul
I am reincarnated from the last day that Malcolm X was alive to the days when MJ was still black and with the Jackson 5
From the days of Chaka and Rufus, Tammy Terrell and Marvin Gaye to Ike staring at Tina so lovingly and saying, “You better eat that cake Anna Maye”.
See. I’m from a time of risk-takers, stacked papers, real Harlem shakers and in your face fakers
I am an Old Soul
I resurrected myself from a time when Harriett Tubman was freeing the slaves and Abraham Lincoln was freeing the slaves and Thomas Jefferson was freeing the slave…long enough to sleep with the slaves…
Ok…I digress
I reminisce on the times of Hewey Newton, Mahatma Ghandi, Frederick Douglass and Casious Clay
The days of Stevie Wonder and Berry Gordy
Don’t y’all remember those days???
Maybe not, but I am an Old Soul
A young soul made old by the history I’ve been told, the stories that I’ve read and by the blood that’s been shed
The wisdom given to me by many generations
From my mother and father and the past master plantations
From the bus drivers and school teachers, janitors and corner preachers
From the man sleeping in a box that you think is just a dream seeker
My soul came from the riots in Chicago and the lynchings from tall oaks
My freedom came from the marches from Selma, Alabama to Washington, DC by a host of rich AND poor folks
My soul is your soul and your soul is mine alike
And I am not willing to give up my soul or history without a fight!!!
Green
The sickness. Almost viral. Friendships spiral towards a dark abyss.
Joy filled bliss sealed by betrayal’s kiss.
You reminisce on what was and should’ve been
Green because I live in what is, leaving behind what could’ve been.
Number two of the seven
Doors and gates now locked to heaven
All because of Green.
The disease. Unfortunately no cure.
Molded relationships that used to be pure
What was once known as truth is now unsure.
All because you are empty
Infested with Envy
Green
Green as the everglades
The turmoil of heated hatred that can’t be cooled by the shade
Green
Green as the new grass in the Garden of Eden
Chemical and emotional imbalance, asking what can I do to get even?
You need a V-8
Don’t like what’s on your plate
Peaking onto another menu
Not satisfied with your fate
Green
Jealousy is a sickness, get well soon
Breaking the Mold
Hard pieces of red hurt cover the wounds of past pain
Corroded stains mildly hide the shame, but like the concrete in a storm we wish that the dirt would wash away with the rain
Or maybe even destroyed by flames
Trapped inside is the evidence of hate
Heat filled feelings of disdain for those that have altered life’s fate and now I am left with no choice but to forget
But I choose to sedate
Self-medicate
Outside I am hard as stone reinforced by steel
And like an orange, the fruit of my being is constantly protected by my peel
I used to have zeal
I used have dreams
I used to be able to feel
I want to stop the screams
That haunt me late at night
Dreading the mirrors all around me because I hate looking at the sight
Of a shell
The shell of I who I was before
Before the grief
Before the strife
Searching for peace
Begging for life
It is done
Excuse Me as I Kiss the Sky
All I feel is the breeze. No pain. No guilt. No hurt. Just the gentle breeze.
With each passing floor there is a sense of euphoria that passes through me.
My life begins to flash and sometimes there are actually happy memories.
For each level I pass, I am closer to peace. I am one second closer to ending the nightmares and the sleepless nights. I am one second closer to providing a way out for those that suffer due to my presence and condition. I feel as though this is best.
I feel like I am flying. Maybe if I spread my wings I can soar above this world.
I can soar above my problems.
Grace has kept me, but Mercy has run out and I am down to my last refill.
Looking back on it, I have been going down long before today.
It is now that I have decided to make it a little faster and less painful, so excuse me while I kiss the sky….
