Reflection

Note: I have yet to come across any poem/piece/prose as powerful as this one - I know, fully, understand when people say "this or that thing was life changing." Thank you for sharing this poem, Diata! - halima

I am the product of my environment

More correctly, I am the product of my era in time

An era that’s 142 years past slavery

50 some odd years from Jim Crowism

And 31 years removed from the days

Of civil rights upheaval

I am an Afrikan

In an European matrix

I am ironically, the breathing testament to

A future normalcy that’s propositioned for…

I am the conflicting spirit of a victory won

Yet the destitute trapping of a generation lost

I am the reflection of a perfect love and a perfect hate

I seen the induction of the C.I.A & F.B.I

Systematically implant crack cocaine as subversive tool

To dwindle the revolutionary flame of the 60s

So I ask have I ever seen love?

I am the generation that first seen the “so called”

Affirmative action laws, which were supposed to have spawned the manifestation of “equal opportunity” in workplace and equal housing.

So should I ask, do I know love?

I am amongst a generation that leads in every major category that favors, and is high on, death.

So must I ask, is it possible for me to know love?

Remember we are just

Reflecting on a perfect love and perfect hate

How can you have morals and values when you are desperate?

How can righteousness be present when death and despair is so imminent?

How can they expect for love to exist, in a vast mass of conflicting emptiness?

Is love prejudice, and only accessible to those who can afford it?

Or is love the rock of those oppressed to lean on so they can maintain and hold on to their sanity and humanity?

Is love perfect and exact?

Or is it a faulty measurement and credit to God’s creative act?

Can I pick and choose who I love, must it be all embracive?

Is love a single characteristic

Or can it have multiple faces

As faces change in and out our relationships?

How can I love and still be so quick to kill?

Reflections of perfect love and hate

I heard a wise old man say

That the creative force talks to the heart and through the power of thought…

Well then if this is true

Then love is the vehicle that transmits the universal energy of man…to man..through

But not just any man

Not the man who’s divulgent in the panoramic scheme

Of man’s exploitation of man

Not the man absent of comprehension life’s cycle in land

Not the man void of obligations to another man free in hand

Not the man who oozes from goose pimples chasing after breastless firls in perverse skirts

Not the man who breathless skeleton treasures the heaven sent devil’s tongue

You know him, the man whose deceptive words carry heart thrilled prasising songs all throughout the four (4) corners causing massive burial zones

Love can’t be for the man, whose first taste of life was cradled in the smoke filled of a crack pipe

Reflection

Love can’t possibly know, the man who likes to touch his step-daughter secretly at night while she’s whispering the Lord’s Prayer

Reflections…

I wonder if love ever known those countless baby bones scattered throughout the floor of the Atlantic Ocean, because that slave destined mother didn’t want hate to overwhelm her loves life

Reflections

I bet you they loved the begging squeal of that pleading nigger bragging from the back of that pickup truck

A perfect love and perfect hate

Reflection

I once visualized love one night over harden

Erection and lustful wet dreams of me beating

The shit out of that judge who sentenced me

Reflections

They say its three (3) types of men in this world

Well, I must have been the fool, because the same wise old man taught me – twice

He said if the creator is spirit

And man is made flesh, then love must sleep with soul on the plane first made manifest

Reflections

Retrospection showed me that I was a slave

Introspection brought to the realm of being re-made…

So like a new born, I take a slap from reality

That awakens me to breath…

Wiping away the fetus membrane, I begin to see a new image

One that’s no longer tainted by pictures

Of beautiful women given lustful thoughts

Or having a hustler’s dreams, trying to make a robbers buck

But now, I see, a positive ways

Knocking down barriers in a hell-like maze

Love is neither helpless nor substance less

But resides on a thin line of ethereal thoughts

Penetrating the psyche of a man who has fought through force-fields of ignorance and heartache

Swiped through myriads of obstacles and stumbling blocks

To arrive at the pinnacles of the creator’s throne

Not any fictitious ottomans in galaxies space less space

But rather the seat of man’s domain

Existing inside the physiological composition

Of conductive activity that arrives you at the cognitive realization that love is UNDERSTANDING

Can’t you finally see

Your reflection

Love is height of understanding

Love is when you no longer under but overstand

Life and reality and your direct correlation in it

Love is that energy and motion vocatively combusting

Within you so that you can do nothing but feel it

But it’s more

Love is conscious awareness

Aware enough to know that you must consciously embody the righteous principles of life as they culminatively co-exist synchrinizedly

To produce, cultivate, nurture and perpetuate

What?

Life!

Life as the multitude of lessons which constitute one lessons

Love

Reflections

Love is immaculate with much splendor

Suspended in a vortex of blocked perceptions

Love is explicitly clear

Transparent to the eye

But yet so easy to see

Reflections

Love is perplexing to those restricted to just their five (5) tentacle-like senses…

But truly, spiritually enthralling to the few

Who allow their cognitive minds?

To absorb it’s heart-shattering

Truth

Love is as love does

Because you see you do

As far as your conscious overstanding

Of life, reality, existing

Allows you to do

So, in the end all you really have to do is reflect and you

Will now

Love

Reflections

Diata

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