Born January 6, 1883, Khalil Gibran was a Lebanese American artist, poet, painter, and writer. His literary career developed after immigrating to the United States. Known for his 1923 book, The Prophet, a series of philosophical essays writing in prose. Gibran’s presence was a gift to my life and writings. After soaking myself in The Prophet, I can’t recall a time that I didn’t use his writings as a point of reflection, inspiration, and balance. His words so eloquently places, align not only the most subtle of emotions, but confirm the most important thing: everything has meaning. The story of his life, his love, his mediums of expression and intimacy are profound. Gibran reaffirms that expression at all levels is essential for growth.
His work can be found in the Telfair Museum of Art in Savannah, Georgia and University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Library. In addition there are memorials and buildings dedicated to him in Canada, Boston, Brooklyn, D.C, and of course internationally where his final resting place has become Lebanon.
And I will close with this…The words written next to Gibran's grave are "a word I want to see written on my grave: I am alive like you, and I am standing beside you. Close your eyes and look around, you will see me in front of you ...."
I just recently… printed several copies of The Prophet… and mailed them to my brother and his inmate “friends”… it’s that timeless.
Links:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khalil_Gibran
http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/5616
http://ow.ly/15rcw
http://ow.ly/15reT
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
SunShIP
Enjoy this piece I love… wrote about a special friend that I didn’t want to lose... 2008. Rewind in motion. Peace. (I know it is long... but trust me it’s worth the read)
Sun SHIP
4/2008
A commitment of friendship. Golden days built on sunshine smiles and hope for change leads me searching for confirmation. I see beauty in the seconds we spend together and the hours I long for u. this separation created by my imagination yet fueled by the miles between us, leaving me questioning.
I yearn for a commitment of friendship. I see humanity in your eyes and hunger in your hopes; I taste loneliness in your kisses. It’s something about this... I can't put my finger to it. The world I have created for u, u don't live in. I find myself taking rockets to planets far away... streaming. Only to realize it is only me on the moon searching for growth. And you are flying Saturn's around me.
Quiet times of silent cries and lost breathes leaves my mind puzzled with agony. Wondering why your actions get to me. But I still come back. Having no choice but to have faith in u, because I trust myself, the self I see in your soul that provokes me. Engulfs me, intrigues me.
Wondering if the facade I create will disappear as these days do... and my departure comes to. And I find myself... hearing commitment of friendship. Asking for such would be demanding loyalty to a stranger... or my bank information to Uncle Lenny with the habit... and yet I type each word... expecting insanity.
It's like the conversations ended when the hugs began, and those paused with the music beats from your heart. And ****, who am I to push that **** to the back or the side or the front, who am I to refuse the art, and masturbate to ideals of words being reality's confirmation of balance.
Turning time backwards to build on what should have been now would only seem troublesome. And yet I seek the solidification of all my confusion. Pondering on how future visits will be labeled and connections defined, I want to seal the moment of interest with friendship. Kiss away the emotions of… it was good then but maybe it's not good now, or I am sorry I over stepped my place only to find me enjoying your touch…and that sorry only meant what??
And I laugh to myself and such demands I wish to ask. I laugh because as I know the self I see in you... my initial point of thought would be wrapped around why and how... or what…now?. Why would u give such with out allowing you to really give all? I have noticed that the small amounts of sunlight that's shined from your windows are the same ruining your warm dark nights. Locking yourself in such solitude only provokes retreat. And yet I find strength in your push away. Limited strength.
And how... how can u lend your insides to someone destitute for separation, designed for the same solitary confinement you are, and find peace in the situation. I do. Find peace in u. that is. Or simply in the thought that the person I have wanted to know... I have come to. Whether that is what I wanted it to be, or should I say the whether it is the person I expected to meet, it is how I desired. Wanting intellectual connection through unsaid words, unwritten thoughts, simple hugs and goodbyes. The goodbyes that u are all too fond of hearing. And fail to say at separation.
And what of it all... why not just let things fade into existence and exist as is... or come as be... and melt with the sunshine coming up, and soften with the moons glaze. Why not just ignore all these mixed words and chopped emotions... and just live as you did before me. Or as u do now... with me... on the edge of question... failing to see or hear things I mention... like those speaking to me as I type this. My heart writes this. And I can't stop expressing this.
I feel like time cost more than gas now and days … and I find myself selling mine to only wish for yours. Or spending mine waiting on yours. Either or… your presence is lacking these past … beats… and who am I to question this almost there, once was there, will be there.. Kind of man. Feeling that what I have wished to invest doesn't measure to my capabilities, if only I were given some opportunity... which is why I seek a commitment of sun ship.
Some…unwritten, unspoken, invisible seal of connection that allows these barriers to halt for minutes. To fall for conversations... Crumble for hugs. True, deep, spiritual hugs. From day one I have been pulled away from u by the arms that hug me and any hopes of such optimism has been spoken false by the mind I admire in you... And yet my urge has been to revoke such insanity. And push for faith of knowing the person I am, is the real person I want you to see, not the images and stories, and long nights…that I have created.
But of course, time changes everything... Including rules and regulations of sun ships. So I just aim for confirmation that you will give the time needed in order to see the sun in me, that I have searched for in you... since day one. Circling back to my point of existence... Friendship. Such confusing Aquarius' characteristics leaves me stuck in the mirror writing this... re-reading each sentence with the pretense... knowing that it will never be sent... And u will not know my inner thoughts.
Just hellos, hugs, and good byes.
Just hugs, hello, and good byes.
Just hello, hi... I am leaving... good bye
Sun SHIP
4/2008
A commitment of friendship. Golden days built on sunshine smiles and hope for change leads me searching for confirmation. I see beauty in the seconds we spend together and the hours I long for u. this separation created by my imagination yet fueled by the miles between us, leaving me questioning.
I yearn for a commitment of friendship. I see humanity in your eyes and hunger in your hopes; I taste loneliness in your kisses. It’s something about this... I can't put my finger to it. The world I have created for u, u don't live in. I find myself taking rockets to planets far away... streaming. Only to realize it is only me on the moon searching for growth. And you are flying Saturn's around me.
Quiet times of silent cries and lost breathes leaves my mind puzzled with agony. Wondering why your actions get to me. But I still come back. Having no choice but to have faith in u, because I trust myself, the self I see in your soul that provokes me. Engulfs me, intrigues me.
Wondering if the facade I create will disappear as these days do... and my departure comes to. And I find myself... hearing commitment of friendship. Asking for such would be demanding loyalty to a stranger... or my bank information to Uncle Lenny with the habit... and yet I type each word... expecting insanity.
It's like the conversations ended when the hugs began, and those paused with the music beats from your heart. And ****, who am I to push that **** to the back or the side or the front, who am I to refuse the art, and masturbate to ideals of words being reality's confirmation of balance.
Turning time backwards to build on what should have been now would only seem troublesome. And yet I seek the solidification of all my confusion. Pondering on how future visits will be labeled and connections defined, I want to seal the moment of interest with friendship. Kiss away the emotions of… it was good then but maybe it's not good now, or I am sorry I over stepped my place only to find me enjoying your touch…and that sorry only meant what??
And I laugh to myself and such demands I wish to ask. I laugh because as I know the self I see in you... my initial point of thought would be wrapped around why and how... or what…now?. Why would u give such with out allowing you to really give all? I have noticed that the small amounts of sunlight that's shined from your windows are the same ruining your warm dark nights. Locking yourself in such solitude only provokes retreat. And yet I find strength in your push away. Limited strength.
And how... how can u lend your insides to someone destitute for separation, designed for the same solitary confinement you are, and find peace in the situation. I do. Find peace in u. that is. Or simply in the thought that the person I have wanted to know... I have come to. Whether that is what I wanted it to be, or should I say the whether it is the person I expected to meet, it is how I desired. Wanting intellectual connection through unsaid words, unwritten thoughts, simple hugs and goodbyes. The goodbyes that u are all too fond of hearing. And fail to say at separation.
And what of it all... why not just let things fade into existence and exist as is... or come as be... and melt with the sunshine coming up, and soften with the moons glaze. Why not just ignore all these mixed words and chopped emotions... and just live as you did before me. Or as u do now... with me... on the edge of question... failing to see or hear things I mention... like those speaking to me as I type this. My heart writes this. And I can't stop expressing this.
I feel like time cost more than gas now and days … and I find myself selling mine to only wish for yours. Or spending mine waiting on yours. Either or… your presence is lacking these past … beats… and who am I to question this almost there, once was there, will be there.. Kind of man. Feeling that what I have wished to invest doesn't measure to my capabilities, if only I were given some opportunity... which is why I seek a commitment of sun ship.
Some…unwritten, unspoken, invisible seal of connection that allows these barriers to halt for minutes. To fall for conversations... Crumble for hugs. True, deep, spiritual hugs. From day one I have been pulled away from u by the arms that hug me and any hopes of such optimism has been spoken false by the mind I admire in you... And yet my urge has been to revoke such insanity. And push for faith of knowing the person I am, is the real person I want you to see, not the images and stories, and long nights…that I have created.
But of course, time changes everything... Including rules and regulations of sun ships. So I just aim for confirmation that you will give the time needed in order to see the sun in me, that I have searched for in you... since day one. Circling back to my point of existence... Friendship. Such confusing Aquarius' characteristics leaves me stuck in the mirror writing this... re-reading each sentence with the pretense... knowing that it will never be sent... And u will not know my inner thoughts.
Just hellos, hugs, and good byes.
Just hugs, hello, and good byes.
Just hello, hi... I am leaving... good bye
today is my born day
Today is my birthday! 2010 has been a year of focus and constant reflection. My investments in myself have definitely been showing in these last few months. January was a long month, it seemed like my days at work would never end. And yet every day I find something to laugh about, debate about, and question with rational. I think ima play it low key this birthday. i really miss my brothers. their presence and spirit are in transition and i must except that. I really need to get some touch ups on my tats by Melvin Todd at City of Ink (check his blog to…www.9mag.blogspot.com- its bananas, or oranges if you prefer those.) And add to my back… hopefully I can do both soon… And I really want to just go bowling and crack jokes with a gang of folks. Another day, another dollar. Thankful for my freedom. My family. My insight. im thankful to have friends that remind me of my worht when i sometime forget. lol. its soo much going on in reality.. i seem to get lost in thew daze of my dreams... thank u for reading this year.. and being apart of my valleys and mountains..
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Personal Mission Statement
Personal Mission Statement
The other day I sat in a training on developing your personal mission statement. Whether it is one sentence, three paragraphs or a one page essay. It is crucial for not only professional development, but personal growth that one takes the time to invest in a personal mission statement. Now, your statement should change as you grow as a person... and as your interest and goals change… so please make sure you do one every 6 months to a year at least. It will help you focus, tune in on your life, and really access whether your actions are aligned with your goals.
Mission Statement: formal short written statement of the purpose of an organization, that should help guide, spell out it overall goal, and provide a sense of direction, and path for decision making.
YOUR mission statement should include your purpose, inputs, outcomes, and what will be obtained. Think about how you want to brand yourself. What perception does other have of you? And what is the perception you want them to have? Where is the reality with in both? What are your values, what is important for your stability and grounding in life? Combine all these aspects into something eloquent, portraying nothing but what you posses and aim to accomplish. Learn to manipulate perception with words, and reality... Allow others to mold an image that will keep you thriving and thus that you can sustain.
I will post mine soon... stay tuned... I have several for various purposes...
The other day I sat in a training on developing your personal mission statement. Whether it is one sentence, three paragraphs or a one page essay. It is crucial for not only professional development, but personal growth that one takes the time to invest in a personal mission statement. Now, your statement should change as you grow as a person... and as your interest and goals change… so please make sure you do one every 6 months to a year at least. It will help you focus, tune in on your life, and really access whether your actions are aligned with your goals.
Mission Statement: formal short written statement of the purpose of an organization, that should help guide, spell out it overall goal, and provide a sense of direction, and path for decision making.
YOUR mission statement should include your purpose, inputs, outcomes, and what will be obtained. Think about how you want to brand yourself. What perception does other have of you? And what is the perception you want them to have? Where is the reality with in both? What are your values, what is important for your stability and grounding in life? Combine all these aspects into something eloquent, portraying nothing but what you posses and aim to accomplish. Learn to manipulate perception with words, and reality... Allow others to mold an image that will keep you thriving and thus that you can sustain.
I will post mine soon... stay tuned... I have several for various purposes...
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
I have enough faith to lend.. do you??
So I was going to post on something else today.. but for now.. I am just going to write from the heart. What do you value? If everything was snatched away from you… what would you ask god to give back?
I don’t remember a time without friends, because it never really mattered to me, I always had my brothers. There were my friends and equally my enemies on bad days. I guess you can say I was far beyond a tomboy growing up. Everything they grew out of slowly found its way in my closet. I remember many fun days exploring the woods nearby, wandering off for hours with out anyone knowing, to come home in trouble. But mom always gave me the freedom I needed to develop into this beautiful soul. (thank god). I never had a curfew, rules, or limits, just simply… make sure the brothers knew who I was with and where.
Over the years, my business was never my business, which help regulate the things I did and the people I socialized with. My little brother is one year and almost 6 months apart from me. We fought everyday growing up, about little things.. one time he got mad because I wouldn’t let him cook something after mom’s told me he broke a glass pan. But yet no matter how mad my brother was with me, he never hesitated to be by my side, defend me, or simply correct me when I was wrong. And my older brother, the natural born genius, seemed to be good at anything he put his mind to. He can manipulate any situation to benefit himself... except lately. Time has caught up to both of them.
I found myself this weekend listening to my older brother, Esso, cd… www.myspace.com/joeblow456... real hard. reading his letters from prison seems to help bring all these memories alive. Help put my goals, and desires for my family and self in perspective. They are never too far away. Just yesterday my younger brother turned himself in, to let time tick away at his brain. Over and over… I used to joke with my mother that I don’t get enough attention because I am on the “right” path. And yet more and more as I reflect on these last months... I now am starting to believe... their path has been “correct” for them.
Greed, jealousy, love, confusion, desire... all conflicted with misguidance leads to a dead end or a u-turn. As everything was slowly snatched away from both of them… slowly I can see their growth. Slowly I can see their appreciation. Slowly I can see them hurting. That seems to be enough for me these days. The memories. The moments. The fact that they may be better inside there, then in a different type of box, buried beneath my walking footsteps. That keeps me. And my writings will only confirm that things are changing. Now its time for me to stick by their side….
They have sacrificed so much for me to be me. To be grounded in strong principles. To be strong and determined. To take their examples and never duplicate them. To understand what trust is, and how loyalty is a luxury. They have dedicated themselves to seeing me do well in school, without a doubt that I would fail. Who am I to not sacrifice anything for them? I have enough faith to lend. do you?
I don’t remember a time without friends, because it never really mattered to me, I always had my brothers. There were my friends and equally my enemies on bad days. I guess you can say I was far beyond a tomboy growing up. Everything they grew out of slowly found its way in my closet. I remember many fun days exploring the woods nearby, wandering off for hours with out anyone knowing, to come home in trouble. But mom always gave me the freedom I needed to develop into this beautiful soul. (thank god). I never had a curfew, rules, or limits, just simply… make sure the brothers knew who I was with and where.
Over the years, my business was never my business, which help regulate the things I did and the people I socialized with. My little brother is one year and almost 6 months apart from me. We fought everyday growing up, about little things.. one time he got mad because I wouldn’t let him cook something after mom’s told me he broke a glass pan. But yet no matter how mad my brother was with me, he never hesitated to be by my side, defend me, or simply correct me when I was wrong. And my older brother, the natural born genius, seemed to be good at anything he put his mind to. He can manipulate any situation to benefit himself... except lately. Time has caught up to both of them.
I found myself this weekend listening to my older brother, Esso, cd… www.myspace.com/joeblow456... real hard. reading his letters from prison seems to help bring all these memories alive. Help put my goals, and desires for my family and self in perspective. They are never too far away. Just yesterday my younger brother turned himself in, to let time tick away at his brain. Over and over… I used to joke with my mother that I don’t get enough attention because I am on the “right” path. And yet more and more as I reflect on these last months... I now am starting to believe... their path has been “correct” for them.
Greed, jealousy, love, confusion, desire... all conflicted with misguidance leads to a dead end or a u-turn. As everything was slowly snatched away from both of them… slowly I can see their growth. Slowly I can see their appreciation. Slowly I can see them hurting. That seems to be enough for me these days. The memories. The moments. The fact that they may be better inside there, then in a different type of box, buried beneath my walking footsteps. That keeps me. And my writings will only confirm that things are changing. Now its time for me to stick by their side….
They have sacrificed so much for me to be me. To be grounded in strong principles. To be strong and determined. To take their examples and never duplicate them. To understand what trust is, and how loyalty is a luxury. They have dedicated themselves to seeing me do well in school, without a doubt that I would fail. Who am I to not sacrifice anything for them? I have enough faith to lend. do you?
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Poetry Is NOT a Luxury
Audre Lorde
Teach Em Tuesday… I was introduced to Audre Lorde’s writings my freshman year of college. Exploring the realms of the world…. The unconditional moves that we make in life that are dedicated to self growth and development.. put her in my path. Zami… I remember reading that book like 3 times.. and every time finding something new to connect with. A new question to ask myself… and those around me. As my studies developed so did my need to research my likes… which put me on to Poetry is Not a Luxury essay. Now, whenever I need a reminder of why I was blessed with this gift to move my fingertips in such a way that puts emotions in frames for history that plants images with each stroke… I read this essay. Don’t hesitate to experience this pleasure with me…
Poetry Is NOT a Luxury: Audre Lorde
The Quality of Light by which we scrutinize our lives has direct bearing upon the product which we live, and upon the changes which we hope to bring about through those lives. It is within this light that we form those ideas by which we pursue our magic and make it realized. This is poetry as illumination, for it is through peotry that we give name to those ideas which are - until the poem - nameless and formless, about to be birthed, but already felt. That distillation of experience from which true poetry springs births thought as dreams births concepts, as feeling births idea, as knowldege births (precedes) understanding...
http://books.google.com/books?id=r3Ct8Qw3de8C&lpg=PP1&dq=sister%20outsider&pg=PA36#v=onepage&q=&f=false
Teach Em Tuesday… I was introduced to Audre Lorde’s writings my freshman year of college. Exploring the realms of the world…. The unconditional moves that we make in life that are dedicated to self growth and development.. put her in my path. Zami… I remember reading that book like 3 times.. and every time finding something new to connect with. A new question to ask myself… and those around me. As my studies developed so did my need to research my likes… which put me on to Poetry is Not a Luxury essay. Now, whenever I need a reminder of why I was blessed with this gift to move my fingertips in such a way that puts emotions in frames for history that plants images with each stroke… I read this essay. Don’t hesitate to experience this pleasure with me…
Poetry Is NOT a Luxury: Audre Lorde
The Quality of Light by which we scrutinize our lives has direct bearing upon the product which we live, and upon the changes which we hope to bring about through those lives. It is within this light that we form those ideas by which we pursue our magic and make it realized. This is poetry as illumination, for it is through peotry that we give name to those ideas which are - until the poem - nameless and formless, about to be birthed, but already felt. That distillation of experience from which true poetry springs births thought as dreams births concepts, as feeling births idea, as knowldege births (precedes) understanding...
http://books.google.com/books?id=r3Ct8Qw3de8C&lpg=PP1&dq=sister%20outsider&pg=PA36#v=onepage&q=&f=false
Monday, February 1, 2010
Externally Wounded
My posts are about to start being a little more theme organized. Today I wanted to post a strong piece. A reflective piece. I wrote this sometime in 2008, I worked at the Carlos Museum at Emory... got a chance to help with a lot exhibits, and reflect on a lot of history. A lot of open wounds that we as people continue to hold on to… so heal with me...
Externally Wounded
I was born
wounded.
we
Bloody from oppression
Lack of freedom to the womb
Who are you that was born healthy?
Foreign to the country.
Their country.
Field at the hands of the enslaved
Take away kind
Take away color
The mentality of destruction.
Selfish Empowerment at the hands of humanity
And
I was created
with ropes around my neck
They already set aside my noose
Gestation purgatory
Renaming
Birth
hell’s heaven
yet the afterlife seems like bliss
They must have known
I would fight for justice
so they prepared to combat my strength
internally
limitless, bound by hope and freedom
They must have known
the power of true knowledge
yet within
Their education, their country
I was born.
Behind
Walking backward on fear
And looking away from weakness
Yes, they must have known our people would
Create the strong
Be the mighty
Despite our being
Stripped
Strapped
Caged
Beaten
Born into misery on foreign kinds
Now becoming foreign homes
And culture lost in trips in boats
Lost in trips on boats tamed by whips
Whips that hit at the core of soul
Dehumanizing hope
And rationalizing power and greed
estruction
Willie lynch them
Generational divides
Between cultural misprints and misreads
Power structures
Left generations to die.
Divided.
And me.
Born into the ills of the world
Molded, crafted, from first breath
The chosen one to lead
Those blinded
soul cultivated
Speech manipulated
By the blood of these people
Our people
My people
And my birth was celebrated
With another number
In the army for freedom
Already wounded by history
Already slain by history
Bloody still from oppression
Discrimination
ready to fight.
With only my soul.
Open, branded with freedom on forearm
Studying
Reading manuscripts of pass explorations on faith
Within
against this unjust fairytale
Of America’s dreams
It’s creating my blueprint.
I am attempting to regain dignity
In our conception. Our presence.
Our essence of being.
There are no battle wounds on
The battle field for the new
Leaving behind Garvey
Malcolm and Fannie
For a pause
A breath, fresh air, cleansed
By all our blood deaths, and past births scorn
Fighting from wounds they have started
But we have yet to finish. Understood/
We need to finish
Open books
Pens awaiting touch
Paper, ink, awaiting history
To be used to document this new battle
The change in this country
Formulated off greed and hatred
Yet its came to be known for its
Ability to keep everlasting dreams
While culture and history
Was stolen, thus depleted.
So I rise.
I am born
to create infinites
To believe in the limitless
Based foundations on faith
Positive yet realistic premises
That all karma is not good:
Stolen silence
and they
Will have their share
And the light will shine
Reborn with my ancestors
Rebirth of my future
No more wounds.
No more bloodshed
No more misery.
Just:
Soul, purity, vision
New world order-divine
Truth, with faith in heart
Hope in veins, knowledge in mind
I write the future to claim
Victory
No more wounds.
Change is in vision.
Vision is clear.
Practice is in action.
Action is near.
Externally
Let go
Of these wounds
Externally Wounded
I was born
wounded.
we
Bloody from oppression
Lack of freedom to the womb
Who are you that was born healthy?
Foreign to the country.
Their country.
Field at the hands of the enslaved
Take away kind
Take away color
The mentality of destruction.
Selfish Empowerment at the hands of humanity
And
I was created
with ropes around my neck
They already set aside my noose
Gestation purgatory
Renaming
Birth
hell’s heaven
yet the afterlife seems like bliss
They must have known
I would fight for justice
so they prepared to combat my strength
internally
limitless, bound by hope and freedom
They must have known
the power of true knowledge
yet within
Their education, their country
I was born.
Behind
Walking backward on fear
And looking away from weakness
Yes, they must have known our people would
Create the strong
Be the mighty
Despite our being
Stripped
Strapped
Caged
Beaten
Born into misery on foreign kinds
Now becoming foreign homes
And culture lost in trips in boats
Lost in trips on boats tamed by whips
Whips that hit at the core of soul
Dehumanizing hope
And rationalizing power and greed
estruction
Willie lynch them
Generational divides
Between cultural misprints and misreads
Power structures
Left generations to die.
Divided.
And me.
Born into the ills of the world
Molded, crafted, from first breath
The chosen one to lead
Those blinded
soul cultivated
Speech manipulated
By the blood of these people
Our people
My people
And my birth was celebrated
With another number
In the army for freedom
Already wounded by history
Already slain by history
Bloody still from oppression
Discrimination
ready to fight.
With only my soul.
Open, branded with freedom on forearm
Studying
Reading manuscripts of pass explorations on faith
Within
against this unjust fairytale
Of America’s dreams
It’s creating my blueprint.
I am attempting to regain dignity
In our conception. Our presence.
Our essence of being.
There are no battle wounds on
The battle field for the new
Leaving behind Garvey
Malcolm and Fannie
For a pause
A breath, fresh air, cleansed
By all our blood deaths, and past births scorn
Fighting from wounds they have started
But we have yet to finish. Understood/
We need to finish
Open books
Pens awaiting touch
Paper, ink, awaiting history
To be used to document this new battle
The change in this country
Formulated off greed and hatred
Yet its came to be known for its
Ability to keep everlasting dreams
While culture and history
Was stolen, thus depleted.
So I rise.
I am born
to create infinites
To believe in the limitless
Based foundations on faith
Positive yet realistic premises
That all karma is not good:
Stolen silence
and they
Will have their share
And the light will shine
Reborn with my ancestors
Rebirth of my future
No more wounds.
No more bloodshed
No more misery.
Just:
Soul, purity, vision
New world order-divine
Truth, with faith in heart
Hope in veins, knowledge in mind
I write the future to claim
Victory
No more wounds.
Change is in vision.
Vision is clear.
Practice is in action.
Action is near.
Externally
Let go
Of these wounds
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)