If we should fall, tell the world of our exploits,
the pain in our hearts, and how for so long we survived the dark nights.
Tell them of what we’ve endured here,
the tears, the weeping, for so many years.
Tell them that we’ve loved and have been loved,
but by the third season our hearts were shattered
and the remnants of our loving hearts, scattered.
Tell them of the injustice we have endured here, and of our martyrs.
Tell them of the blood that runs every summer
and the crying voices that hope to conquer;
Tell them of the beauty of our mothers
and the quiet strength of our fathers.
Tell them that we weep and suffer,
but somehow we still survive the coldest winters.
Tell them that twelve judge us with prejudice,
and the color of our skin condemns us.
Tell them of apathetic eyes that watch us with hatred and bias
and the system set up to destroy us.
Tell them of our ancestors who came over on ships
to be enslaved for generations—
In tears, raped, separated and whipped.
Tell them that, at our breaking point we didn’t give a shit,
and we were not afraid of death in our final moments.
Tell them that their bullshit sentiments are meaningless
and they walk around as empty husks, soulless.
Tell them that we gave it everything we had,
and faced our fates with tears of resolve—and boldness.
Tag: Love
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Take my memory and do with it what you will,
but remember I loved you, in spite of, and without strings;
remember you couldn’t fly, but I gave you wings.
Remember you couldn’t sleep, so I stayed up with you
until you fell asleep in my arms, while I would softly sing.
Remember you couldn’t tell the difference between sex and intimacy,
until I held you into the morning, and kissed you slowly,
and wept, as I wrapped you in unselfish pleasure and the warmth of me.
Remember the times of your anxiety, when you couldn’t breathe,
and I talked to you in loving sincerity, and I became your peace.
Remember I adored you, and vowed to always love and protect you;
remember my solemn face and truthful eyes, when I told you,
that I would die for you, and in that moment, you knew that it was true.
Remember you uttered with tears, that you belonged to me,
and that I forever belonged to you. -
Album: Vox Humana
Release: March, 1985 -
You hold the pieces of my heart in your hands
and before the world, you cruelly display me.
The looks, the rumors, and the whispers—
come from people we know mutually.
My soul holds onto the love,
the nights of intimacy, and all that used to be;
I curse myself under my breath,
for my own foolish heart betrays me.
I blow kisses to your pictures,
and again, I am at your mercy. -
A diamond sun shines its light on a fuchsia river
flowing flawlessly infused with pixie dust
and ghosts of kings past, with golden chariots.
The stars connect and form a mighty circle,
crowning the earth, for the giving of herself,
and for the miracles of her birth.
Joyous tears of archangels fall, causing
fallen trees to be resurrected and restored tall.
The crippled, and elderly near death, get up and walk.
Fetuses in their amniotic sacs begin to talk.
Mothers of slain sons cry no more,
for they see them in celestial bodies,
adorned in white, with golden crowns at heaven’s door.
The blood of the innocent are recompensed,
and evil doers are tried and sentenced;
The North Star is recognized because she is a guide,
and heard the wailing of many slaves
that fled on the nights she gave her light.
Terminally ill children, grow white wings
and begin to beautifully sing of their healing;
The blind regain their sight. -
The way he feels about her is like a beautiful song unheard;
the intricacies of its melodies held back by secret whispers
that the heart wants to declare loudly and succinctly.
He carries the heavy weight in his heart—
still somehow apprehensive to unburden himself,
so his soul will burn in blue fire until he vocalizes his desire;
In his dreams he holds her in intimate passion,
her hair flowing over his arms, as she whispers
beautiful words and smiles at him.
He must speak now or forever hold his peace,
lest he touch the depths of hell of uncertainty
for an eternity in disbelief. -
She freed herself, letting her soul take flight;
Uninhibitedly, she danced,
Moving gracefully in the twilight. -
Just keep trying.
Groove Theory – Keep Tryin‘
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In intense release, sensual sounds move through walls,
and the body is taken over by pleasure, in waves of euphoric shudders.
In those enraptured moments, nothing else matters;
Intimate words are uttered in whispers, and eager lips find each other.
Dedicated tongues induce uncontrollable screams;
The control of steady rhythms flow like violet rivers,
Under a bright crystal sun in lucid dreams.
It is more than just a frenzied session;
It is the building of refined ecstasy in slow progression.
After several positions, there are four words whispered before explosion.
Silence falls — and the mind records from the tryst what it wants;
In the immediate after, the sensual rapture is vividly recalled. -
Lonnie Liston Smith – A Garden of Peace
Intimate Compositions 