The Right Black Woman

by Jacqueline Amos

Oh when I think of the tears upon my brothers face the agony one must felt, to be treated less than a man, to be chained as a animal only to work through the hot brittle sun, oh but yet he died as a soldier upon the hanging tree, his woman treated as the out door whore, long suffering but yet stood as a man, in hopes of a change in his life, the human man, oh the long-suffering race, centuries despised, oppressed;

Enslaved and lynched, haunted and killed by the hound dogs of the mask man face, denied a human rights, to live in a the swampy rivers and the mule that pulled the loaded wagon, cotton to the master house, and the black land of disinherited sold and bought, robbed of an inheritance, which was given by God. Oh the pain that reflects the hanging tree, and the mother who watched with tears upon her eyes, the helpless tribe. I the black tribe the Moses of de’ land call heaven gate.

I sought among the prosperity, to de' program the destructions of a tube legation that toxins the mind, a free chose of rebirth, that constitute my liberty to speak, the army is not an army, when the warrior fights among each other, and the people suffer from the addictive addiction for power, what is revolution? When the windows are closed in, and there is no link, the miss conception of passage, Salvatore of righteousness; the loyalty died when the hero performed miracles.

But yet I found the aesthetics; modern Philosophy participated of the refinement, inflicting pain of the dead shall not rise, only if the truth is not told, my pen speaks of the dignity beyond death, the hero’s of inheritance shall not die, only if I choose to speak in darkness, without recovery of my dignity and those who walk with prophecies that was given by the Almighty God in heaven, but unto those who cultivate with their victorious arms of greed, I shall recite the constitution of justice, but unto my people who lived upon the abomination of man and earth which they defended with their blood; excluding the human God’s who dictate the solitary of un spoken truth; And suddenly some secret beyond the heaven the sanctuary of Gold.

De’ psalm of the image of a King, and I can read the blue print, like large, black-lettered in the form of a bronze feet, oh but yet shall thy spirit flourish upon the earth. The black stallion stands tall, and the King awaits at the door, and the scripts that was written in blood, oh far away this land call earthly law, I shall continue to follow the eastern light; Hair white as wool feet black as a furnace the prophets of prophet; I the spoken words of my father;I great soldier of revolution, the black man the King Of my Fathers palace; the blood within my brothers vein.

I the follower of great Kings, I have felt the pain of Satan, but I shall continue to send, my brothers the spirit within me is the spirit that lies within the black man.

Nevertheless the sensitivity of truth may contaminate the order that has been resolve to an un civilized institution of dead man bureaucracies, I have travel places where no man has gone, subsided by the human death chambers of mind, but yet I conceive my proclamation of educational success through the congestion that the roots shall rise below the porous of the dead roots. In this hierologic prescriptions of those who continue to archive the historical events, consistently to an assertion of the rights of man, and the rights of Nature and events,

I give unto man the blue print of this divesting world, and man who close their eyes to the restitutions of change, yet on this first, and probably last occasion, in this resolution of aesthetics should I embark to see a cause like this rescued from the embroidery of my pen, if I exhort my reevaluations my pen shall become weak, in which I shall obtrude my Sentiments upon the world, I may be sensitize, if I inscribe a piece, whose only merit is the humanity and freedom of its historical lies, sentiments to darkness, shall only submerse the retro active completions of truth;

I have principally on this journey under all odds of adjustment to derived them of biblical and historical facts. Beneath a milder sky let peace introduce the genius and arts and the libations of the ancestries, and the integrity without insuring their duration, to invoke passion and let philosophy and science glory in a race of illustrious disciples the prophets’ seminary of spiritual grace.

I'll hear the voices, the ancestors of yesterday, Virtue's legacy of tongues Shall sound against genocide of race, Unto I focus on humble, shall not my dignity be inherited as cowardly infirmity, I stand by the instructions of the Almighty God, and Jesus the son of the savior, I take my instructions, with great wisdom of the stroll, Let thy brother stand in accord, let not their supplier of death, shall the sons of Commerce, fear not the wrath, loyalty if not embraced, worse than the midnight Devil, Fear not the marksmen plan.

Racisms Institutional structure as law, Social instruments, behavior modifications determines the structure of who man and man himself gives into the hypocritical salute under one nation to the earthly God. Empowering the sickness of some to sanction, manipulate, the bionic disk is on alert terrorize, Genocide of those who think less than self, spineless interpretations of what man thinks of self, and then justify and rationalizing with self, I am a slave within the darkness of an illusion of self, when man burned the book.

Suffering through the darkness of UN
Recovery, Libation I stand at attention,
trying to understand, the darkness
that lies upon the earth,
Division stronger than the rivers that rise 
upon mans feet , The blood that runs from
my veins, I shall take the lashing of the world, 
I shall not stand still, 
I shall run through thetrill of fields, 
where my ancestors built the liberation, 
I shall run with the torch, sub servant to the lord, 
crying no victim song, no longer shall I stand still, 
summoned from the hill of justice 
the resurrection of change, until I 
spread the words of the Almighty God.
My people to the mountain, when will we 
break the indoctrination of hatred? 
disregarding all the laws of God, shall 
we get it right? I herd it on the mountain
of recovery, one hand on the clock.

The Universe slowly comes to and end.
My native land that lives by the accordance of the devil, 
after the legacy of our ancestors, multi color rainbow, 
have we come to a calamity, where man no longer care? 
The treason that sits upon the doors of our ancestors; 
The doors slowly closing, silhouetted by Satan, 
The scars of my hand, 
whispering the history, thou wisdom, thou love, waves fair well. 
Thou slave of avarice,
that can’t stop the mind. 

Spirits of thoughts, 
the birth of wisdom, 
Spirituality, understandings, 
Creations, life, death, love, 
cries of the earth, 
God that lives among, us all, 
the evolution of men, the man, 
the great tool of civilization, 
which he stands. 

The Right Black Woman by Jacqueline Amos

© Copyright 2005. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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