Black History Our History Poem by THEODORE MOSLEY

Black History Our History

Rating: 5.0


On the hills of life and living in a world where justice and freedom was handcuffed day and night.

We wanted to give education to uneducated lives being destroyed because of our difference.

On this side of the Jordan we were given freedom from birth, now it is a death sentence.

We cradled wisdom from inspirations of songs coming from the choirs that our heart cleaved to.

In the time when life was supposed to be our imagination, it became our casket.

The voices of angels carried us away when we heard 'Joy Bells Keep Ringing In My Soul'.

The sound of elegant turbulence exploded in our eyes as we took the hands of silence upward.

Waiting in the wings of darkness are the white sheets of ignorance that plague themselves.

Showing up with hands of deceit of democracy, they blow the trumpet of war without warning.

The stars at night collect the misery a mother must endure and a father must declare love in tears.

When the night sky that delivers romantic hearts to be filled with love, now must engulf blood stains.

Barriers of hatred conceived in the hearts of human because understanding was not an option.

Fields of dreams snatched away by the trees that swung us without ever looking into our eyes.

Windows of execution and doors of slaughter remained the highlight of the moon when it appeared.

I gave them my name and said my life has another life waiting for me in the silence of the rooms.

No time to mention that I was born and shaped in iniquity, as the whips took my soul of love.

Do you know who I am; I have offspring's that ask me why I can't talk to Susan after school is over.

Do you know who I am; I have offspring's that ask me why I can't play with Bobby at his house.

Still waters run deep, even if I cannot swim the lakes of despair or the rivers of torment that you afflict.

I can bloom into a Queen of the Nile with the hands that help shape and mold me.

As a King I can obtain the highest seat in the land with your demonstrations of mass slaughter.

Walking in the spirit of Cynthia Wesley our lives soared to the heights of liberation in only 16 years.

Carrying on Carole Robertson she became a beacon of love where hatred resided for 16 years.

Addie Mae Collins sang songs of revelation for 16 years, as she danced the flight of freedom upward.

Denise McNair gave eleven years of her life, to show that beauty can rise out of the ashes of destruction.

The history of Black History has a worth of unimaginable stains that clothed our hearts in infallible truths

Black History our history founded on chains of tears, founded on flesh ripped from our souls.

Black History our history founded on love and dethroned apartheid, dethroned racist attribution of words

Black History our history is 16th Street Baptist Church, a legacy of freedom, justice and agape love.



Written by Theodore Mosley

November 15,2014

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Henry D. Hedgpeth 16 February 2019

Raw, real and 'in your face' truth.

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Brian Taylor 14 February 2019

This is a great historical poem.

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