ANCESTOR

YOU called me, Ancestor
In the Spiritual field, barefoot
I went there to rise and appease  
Not for my own liking, please 
How I love you, Ancestor
Like that distant Venus star
In my bones of dance and trance
I chose your side of light;
Full of life and healing stance
Not the morbid, dark, evil side;
That is madness and destruction
You came into my dreams;
To enlighten and give instruction 
I went into the field red, barefoot;
With ornamental beads and soot
My battle was to become ONE
Choosing you, was my choice
To listen intuitively to the voice
Ancestor,  my past, present, future
The one that comes from the Creator
How I love you, my Ancestor
I chose you, I chose God 
With the Calling,
You chose ME
 

MEN

I grew up with men that taught, brave

Men, who never feared the six-feet grave

Six-feet under the shade of the sun

They toiled with violent nature of grief

Hustling the dusty life with honest brief

As short as the briefs and breasts of lust

Taken in nights of steamy sexual desires

Looking for someone real, at least, at last

 

I grew up with men that taught, brave

Men, who never feared the six-feet grave

Men, who knew the wise ways of Street 

Knowing, that giving a man his own poison

Makes a man stands with his own zeen

Making him a man amongst man, not less

But the truth, no lies, a man, not hopeless

In the world where all, is scripted in zine

I grew up with men that taught, brave

Men, who never feared the six-feet grave

Six-feet under the shade of the sun

And I ask you in sincerity my  son -

Can a man stand in a country with women:

Women, ,who destroy it's own countrymen?

In a house with shouts, screams , cries -

That makes a neighbour wonder, who pulled

Who pulled this destructive G.B.V  fuse

When it is said , it is done, it's called ABUSE

I grew up with men that taught, brave

Men, who never feared the six-feet grave

Men who knew, weakness, leads to strength

Men who knew, strongmen, can be frail

Men who walked  shameless in a deadly path

Men who never talked about another 's trail -

When their backs and ears were turned,

Skipping in darkness to steal one's bosom

Men who knew, laughter can turn to sorrow

As sharp as the spear that took Sparrow

I grew up with men that taught, brave

Men who never drowned in the pool  of own

A sickness that takes, more than it gives

I grew up with men that taught, brave

Men, who never feared the six-feet grave

Men who embraced life with all its rave