One
black body.
As the
teardrops spout thro’ the windows of my eyes
It’s
hard to visualize paradise
Regained
thro’ the tools of compromise.
But a
foot-soulja like me
Knows the
drill to never say die.
From
below surface, like boosted rockets, I climb
Mortifying
every challenge with retaliation.
A
master of my own kismet, I execute my obligation
Operating
on a higher level of courage
That
would function nowhere else but center stage.
(If you
must know anything man, know thyself!)
And
commands awe like a clutter of spent shells.
Reigning
in identity,
My
affections sprung on the labors of integrity.
Souls
of ancestors
Watching
on, watching me, from the grandstand.
Applauding
the triumphs of a survivor;
A true
native son
In one black
body.
There’s
no one who can change my tomorrow today.
My course
is charted
And the
light of my life is waking
On the
horizon. Cause my Red Sea’s parted.
I’m
drunk on invention n’ ammunition,
Bracing
the glare of the sun as it penetrates my rust.
Hate couldn’t
displace my faith
Cause my
rage and grace erased the bait of hate.
This is
my pride of place:
The remolding
of a pound of clay.
And my
past shall not defect my future,
I adopted
dyin’ to live as an item of ritual.
Prodding
with ideas that’ll explode in the light,
My ideas
wake me in the watches of the night.
I’ll
take it and let it be
In one
black body.
And in
this body
Will
arise the making of dynasties;
The
unmaking of impossibilities;
The
breaking of infinities,
Till
kingdom come.
To
testify how I walked thro’ walls
Before
the keeper of all that is kept-
When I
stand on that holy mountain-
Of a creature coming home with a 100 fold
talent;
Of a worm’s
strength when tests rose up like Cain.
Of new
beginnings from a past of defeat;
About the
determination of a Negro
Prompted
by his enthusiasm and belief
In a
simple childhood code.
Till I kick
up a new facet of history
In one
black body
I stand
in awe of a past rooted in pain.
My soul
bleeds at the mention of history’s shame.
Downtrodden
but not downcast;
Blacklisted
but going strong with a blast.
I leap
on the back of the wind and cruise
World’s
unknown my mind in tune with my muse.
And still
not buying into a white-washed history.
Take
one peek at mystery’s next-big-thing;
Drink your
fill of a jewel of peculiar worth,
Shouldn’t
come as a surprise I got balls n’ a song.
Situation
steeped me in a turd of imperfection
Still the
makings of me exhale God’s own split image.
Used to
go around flashing a badge of shame
Only to
get flung up by Redemption’s ditty.
This is
where my forever story derives its beginning:
In one
black body.
Akpan
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