Narrative Reportage for 8/2/2018

Home is the word we love to hear:
The dreams are never over,
They are always a break through: after the tears:
An x is lodge in our heads was it the,
rock, a tree, or the hidden board,
Time welt serve: time to cash in
Time uproot the rocks
that tree and those loose boards
would this be a happy ending?

You had choose the life of crime
The crime didn’t nail itself
Every day a black man
Under the age of twenty
Pulls the trigger, they turned off the light
He longs to return to his mother womb:
I see the love of their mothers
While she holds their hands at age three
at age twenty three I see the replacement :
the chrome bracelets: the resentment
Neflex the new society wants us to believe that orange is the new black:
“Our ancestors have invented, we can at least innovate.”
― Amit Kalantri

**“Oh Child
Look within
Find your ForeMothers
Find them
Find them”
― Malebo Sephodi

I don't have a filing cabinet,
I've emptied all the drawers;
Lugged it through my clearing house,
Then gleefully through the  door.
The **** thing's out for pick up.

Each drawer was filled with files:
Insurance forms for cars and bikes,
Gone this long while;
Health receipts for healthy lives,
Warranties and refund lies,
Transcripts from a former life,
Lesson plans and records,
Some pics of you and me.
All shredded, bagged and tightly tied,
And ready for the street.
I'm finding some relief.
If only I could do the same
With memories of you.

There are no promises
      for tomorrow,
   it may never come
say I love you today
to those special ones.

Set goals
       dream your dreams
but, live within today
       for right now
          this moment
             is truly everything.

Stop wasting time
      on what was before
the past,
lessons learned,
      now it’s time
          to close those doors.

Comes a time in life
   when one must grow,
      the saying is true
you reap what you sow….

Give your heart
to the one you love
         make it a point
to show them
          No One Else
   could ever rise above.

Live in the here and now
   give a smile
          to all you meet
walk every day in love
make your
            life complete.

If life was music,
then we’d be the words.
Capturing every nuance,
in every minute of everyday.

We’d be the melody.
A piece that tunes unique.
Encompassing the lightness of flightful joy,
the strength of surety
and weight of doom and darkness.

We’d be the story.
Written by the will of the universe.
Intricately ornate...
True...
To each our eyes and hearts.
Arranged most haphazard
yet so beautiful.

We’d be a symphony.
And we will be the music...

Only to our ears.

.

It’s  
    a quarter past four
    In the middle of
    nowhere
                With  a
    full moon on the
    horizon
    I just couldn’t help
   Thinking it’s the
   Perfect time For the
   Wolves to roam wild

   With that in mind
                  I
   Tossed and turned
   No matter what I did
   I just couldn’t fall asleep

                  It’s
   one of those nights  when  
   You have too much on
   Your mind  it just wouldn’t
   Let you rest
   Until you put it
                To rest
   With no other option around  
   I felt like I needed to write
                  Just
   to let some steam out  

                   I
 looked up to the stars
 Above like a wishing Well
            And with
 Pen and notepad in hand
            Poured
 me some moonshine  
            In
 the task of rising up to the
             Stars above
            And Sit back   
Watched the moon
 Merged with my shine

                  You
  know it’s a great
  Night when you’re aiming
              for the stars

            Mind racing
   Excitement beginning
           To build
   Heart pumping
   Pen in hand
   Ready to write
                    Just
               to realized
       I had nothing in mind
                 To write
                    At all

Yoko heard the gun go
Off in his hands
Yoko saw the life flow
Out of her man

Yoko heard the sad moan
All across the land
Yoko is alone
To never understand

Yoko must cope
In this devil's dance
Yoko with us lost hope
With give peace a chance

Yoko had to let go
Of her man John
While Yoko held on
To their son Shawn

Yoko played the scapegoat
All these many years
Yoko Ono
Cries real tears

As Yoko watched the world go
From love to hate
Yoko misses John so
Eight days a week