Congo, Congo,
foreign land
I hurt for you
you’ve caused me pain.
Your tale’s gloomy,
your story’s sad
it makes me angry
it makes me mad.
My heart is broken
I don’t know why
now that I’ve met you
I want to cry.
A king desired you
from far away,
he lied, he cheated
knew how to sway.
That evil genius,
that greedy scum,
a worthless creature,
an awful bum.
He wanted rubber
to make him rich
he had no mercy
he was a witch.
He took you over
for profit’s sake,
to him you were
a slice of cake.
Kidnapped you children
enslaved your men
then raped your women
and robbed your land.
At home he told them
how good he was
a Christian civilizer
with a noble cause.
But in your jungles
the ugly truth:
he did not spare
even your youth.
Your hands, oh, Congo
were severed off
and stacked like garbage,
like useless cloth.
In Belgium palaces
and wealth like flood
success tremendous
paid with your blood.
O, king, how could you
commit these crimes?
You had no conscience,
you filthy slime.
Your country loved you
but didn’t know
your evil nature
your brutal show.
They have forgotten
whence their gold came
how it was stolen
and have no shame.
They built you statues
what a disgrace!
They minted coins
with your ugly face.
Leopold, you devil
now burn in hell!
We never want
your foul smell.
Oh, Brussels, Brussels,
please, do repent!
The blood cries out
from Congo’s land.
Thank you, missionaries
and Ed Morel
you told the world
of Leopold’s hell.
The night is gone
and morning came
but we remember
the awful shame.
Today, oh, Congo
you suffer much
while Brussels proud
and not in touch.
Your people flee,
they seek escape,
from war, from murder,
from violent rape.
Forgive us, Congo
we knew you not
now we are meeting
in life our lot.
We promise Congo
to pay our debt
to help your children
to give them bread.
We pray for blessings
on your great land,
oh, sweet Congo
we pledge our hand.
We love you Congo,
We’re now your friends,
We’ll tell the world
to make amends.
but yours and mine
which (should) now (not), is (be) known–
like planks placed for fences
was the day we’
ve decayed of
bodies both yearned
those termites–no,
they did not
cause our
feet into crumble
Run! I have run
Oh! I’ve died several times to this end
I’ll rest away from that bad beast.
This sound is not welcoming.
Turning and turning all about
So ferocious is the incoming voice
Can I run!
I must run. But run to no point at all?
I have fumbled and tripled triple times on this way.
There seems no way lead out
Yes! There is one, and the beast is within me.
How can a high class animal run from that low class?
Yes! T’s why t’s a beast
And we’re never the same
T may pierce my flesh but I, no
Except I may kill it out of defense
A beast is a beast; never broken like a cheese
Take to your heels when it wheels it presence
T will never understand like you.
Though the bad beast within you is the worst beast…the fear
I can’t hide…none to hide
Courage is the only weapon …and I’ll run
And I’ll run! And run to the end…
Forever is a long time. Yet still I’m here, simply yours.
I belong to you, I am forever linked to you, all yours.
You created something special between us, forever yours.
Through trial and error, the learning curve, u raised me forever yours.
In sickness and in health, yes like matrimony, I am forever yours.
When I got on your nerves as I grew from infancy to adulthood, still I remained forever yours.
Shameful that only one day has been chosen for you, it’s still forever yours.
Even on the days that perhaps you didn’t feel your best, I came first, forever yours.
Feeding me, healing me, teaching me, how can I be anything else, forever yours.
When I began writing my own life chapters, lest we forget, I am still forever yours.
As short as this message may be, the meaning is clear, this day and eternity are forever yours.
Happy Mother’s Day to you these women I can’t say enough about, the world is yours.
I said it before that forever is a long time, but so too are you.
Be all that you know yourself to be, fore as long as you do these things forever will live within you.
Not just anyone can kill a baby;
It takes a degree to commit that crime.
The doctor’s conscience will hurt him—maybe,
But the guy on the street will do some time.
In the clinic it’s called an abortion,
But it’s murder when done on the street.
Society’s views are a distortion
Of truth. Just ask the next stranger you meet.
A drunken man hits an oncoming car.
The impact begins preterm labor.
The nearest hospital is much too far
Away. The paramedics can’t save her.
The drunkard is found guilty of murder
Of the baby that was killed on the way
To a place where Doc waited to hurt her—
He was scheduled to abort her that day.
Abortion is legal; it’s Mother’s choice.
Planned Parenthood plays on that ruse.
But Baby’s human. What about her voice?
Shouldn’t she too have the right to choose?
Instead of mourning the soul is lost in the wilderness,
wandering thr’u the weary fate of crooked tunnels
to find eternal rainbows of myriad hues.
Then the dawn breaks open and life is re-born,
like the cracking open of shells to hail it’s reincarnation after all is lost.
And it’s depiction of many souls are like leaves on sunlit paths,
finally restored.
Someday we will all be free.
Who, when, where, and how
This fantasy you spout, are you speaking to me?
Someday we will all be free
Is that as the bird, or as the eagle?
Free; a concept that many seek, but it seems that few ever find.
Free; is real or is it fake?
This phenomenon, free is it meant for me?
I look, we search, where is freedom? Is it all in my mind?
I stand and I fight, with all of my might, this freedom I must find.
I am hungry, you are cold, he is homeless, she is sad,
I am black, you are white, he is brown and she is red,
I seek, you seek, he seeks, and she seeks
Freedom, freedom, freedom; we all want it. Is that so bad?
Someday we will all be free
Who? Both you and me, as well as he and she, for we are all the same.
When? The day we decide that what we all want is the same.
Where? Right where we are, because the place we live is the same.
How? We stand, we cry, we support, we forgive, for the way is the same.
Free as a bird,
Flying high as an eagle,
No more concept, but really free
Freedom is real, but it does have a price;
For nothing comes without sacrifice
Will I die for you? Will you die for me?
Does he or she need to die to be free?
Stand up, stand tall, we can all be free
You can’t die for me, nor I for you.
He nor she can pay the price, for on a cross at Calvary
That price was paid by Jesus the Christ
O wake up and see that freedom is won
Believe, and take heart, as we all are one.
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