Happiness is Easy

Do not smile to yourself
Like a green mountain
With a cloud drifting across it
People will know we are in love.

Between the will and the subconscious

Maintain Unity

Black Love

Once you trust the fact that some of the most militant demons come in the baffling real-thing acts of black angels ; it all just goes to show — 

                                                                                                                                                                You could call the hoax a stepladder to the great hope, or you could call it the tall black guy who
tries to hide his demons from the frontlines and they end up towing across his mind like ghetto alphabets and veteran ghosts and close-ups of his mother's motor of a smile running him into his child/self again and again/ he tries to pretend you're her and fails again and again, over and over     himself in a melting pot      and then he takes the aggregate and rearranges it  into some half-assed fame bent on   bent on   audacity and then shame     pretense   pretense    You thought he was tense before he got noticed        Now what to call it?  A fallen angel? A poster child for I know why the caged bird goes silent mid song once in a while. Makes you stop and think though       Now that White America kinda discovered blackness thus, but not like kin like  in road to  what time it's been

                                                   I'm changing, not gonna let it be Columbus Day in this radiant heart but sure am   part umbra part runner all star and keeping it more than one hundred  

percent total   didn'tchaknow    l i g h t      growing always upward in soul force



--

              And then at the end of the day, can you blame him for being so tense? I mean, his day just ended on a president's empty netherland neverland nervous and green, and he's trapped in the attic of his will / (to) dream  with a blindfold made of cactus roses covering his knuckles with his second sight and third ethic ; and the slow blood of total opposition drips through the supple petals into one of those dopey abusive apologies about who he can't be when the blinds are closed     or how the microphone is pressed against his tone so it echoes  the future  heir        and he can't hear himself    anywhere he's turned love into an excuse for hate  or  pit one against the other til he's the sum of all their fears     Until there are no fears for some

Let's pray that this is a great myth, the myth of the man who blames his mother for his father's absence and falls in love with the light source that they all recover-- and know that I'm the hero of it, here to re-envision the crux as a celebration, hear that I'm the sun gripping through that sterile window so abundant it makes you wonder where you come from again and how to get there while it still makes sense



   

You're in the Band

Before I bring a Sun of the Morning

Before I bring a Sun of the morning/touch him not ever with the power of night/call not his flame to the darkness of night/ know him and see him, one of our brothers/Lifted from the darkness into the light

We figure out what the soul is/ watching him