the body i long for,
is both fire and darkness.
the land i go to,
has neither walls nor shores.
it flows with the oceans,
and gives and takes!
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god is the moment you stop to listen,
the time you spend walking beside,the last bite, the last dollar, you share.the day you take the time to care,every small act of kindness.the tears you weep with,the lonliness you fill…the cup of water, the gentle caress.the hands on your neighbor’s shovel,the stand you take though ridiculed.the honesty that wears your failures,and embraces the failures…
the only identity i have
is in the eyes… of smallchildren, hungry and orphaned,their families lostto wars, earthquakes, floods,disease, poverty…children of different colors,nationalities, faiths…children without names.i am their father, their mother,their sister, their brother…i am the answer to their hunger,i am its cause.i am their hunger!i have no name.
one plus one plus one,
minus two,equals their profit margin.‘in God we trust’stamped on our foreheads…the Bill Of Rightslashed into our backs…another spot on the assembly line,a pair of boots without a tongue.another position vacant,cheap sex without a smoke!unemployment line, or jail time.lawyers and well paid judges.when one plus one plus one,sets an empty plate on a barren table!
they’re calling for revolution!
the only sword we carry is truth…as we march with justiceand equality…what’s past is past!we cannot changewhat’s already been done.the only way to heal the woundsof the past is to create a future…a future that begins with today!no longer divided by color or creed,we march hand to heart as one.knowing that no man is freeuntil…
put down your crack bowls
and let’s go walking thruthe streets and alleys of America….let’s walk past the empty houseswith foreclosure signs in the yard…past the vacant factory buildingswhere the homeless break inat night and sleep…past the lily white churchesand the dead zone schools…past the county jails and the courthousesand the rooms where lawyersbuy and sell justice…past the housing projectswhere…
old man, old man,
tell me the storybehind your faraway stare.i can see by your wrinkles,and the scars on your hands.it’s been a long journeyfrom that faraway land.tell me who and why you fought,tell me what you won and lost.tell me who that you loved,and who paid the cost.tell me what you learned,would you do it all again?have you…