The Bond between the Black Man And God

[Lady Blues Jacqueline Amos]

The Bond between the Black Man And God



Through all the sorrow of the hailing light,
the torch, tearful moments of Songs,
Man is nothing without the spiritual
light, breathes of blood, of the saviors
cross, hope, mama’s cry through
the night, my hope, sing a death
song, to the lynching of my fate,
a faith in the ultimate justice of the
psalms black man.

The minor cadences of despair,
the triumph sings in unison, lord
come by here, I stand tall as a man,
change often to triumph, the calm
confidence, I the psalms of black men.
Sometimes it is faith in life, sometimes
a faith in death, sometimes assurance
of boundless justice in some fair world beyond.

upon the cross the savior that return,
the voices cry from the grave, I see the
blood of the skies, I walk the moonlight,
I lay by the soft rocked grave, I plead
my case to the lord. I shall lay my body
down. Judge me at the bar not on earth.

As he as my brother, the lynching shall reverse
A man shall rise upon the night, as he as the DNA
The image of God, so who is man that is looked upon
Without grace, the blue print
was created, and the history
Shall continue to take form. A man shall rise.
Upon the night, nevertheless the history
has been told, man who fairs the devils
scorn, test of faith, he temped the lord
upon the mountain, man the humble heart,
the devil has stolen everywhere-land and
sea; lord judge my fate, judge me not on
earth, judge me at the bar, of the lord.

But whichever it is, the meaning is
always clear, and that the backward
races, is submission of the slave masters
torture, of today and often, proven in
efficiency and not worth the saving.
The assessor to death, Judge me at
the bar of the lord. the backward
races of today; darkness, cried at
the fountain of blood, men will judge men
by their souls and not by their skins.
Is such a hope justified? Judge me at
the bar dear lord. The cries of my breeder’s
that continue to search, lord the handicap
mind, worked the dignity of man.

Nor has the gift of the Spirit been
merely passive. Given to this nation in blood;
So each man must reclaim his inheritance;
which was give in grace, abide his final
fate. I stepped from my cell's confinement
the hell that sits upon my feet. Humbly I
speak, God protect me from my self, The
wooded logs that lye upon my house, the
fires that Burn to give me light, through
the light the darkness Continue to seek
in, oh the grace of thy God That shelters
me, who am I ? The words of Thy father
the loyal subject to Gods house.
Like a cage bird, which sings for freedom,
and the rage for freedom, I shall change
this place call earth;

In the standings of Gods demands;
That lingers to live upon God’s house
the soul of the soul son, de’ master Lord God,
Image from the black sparring clay, black rivers
that created the image I wear, Wraith of the
slave trade, I claimed my freedom, from the
envy of man, yet they continue to set traps,
I shall not bow over, my legacy written in the
script of gold, I drink from the golden cup of
the trading rills; I am the soul of humble many
don’t know my name, As school leaving age
arrives, future prospects become clear;
A life on the dole, a slave to the state,
very predictable fears.

I cry not for this blinded world, the servant
will be the one, who sits at the lord table,
and the avenger will hold the door, ancient
ere slave master began. My instructions come
de little black book. I shed no tears, I cry
pain of world, de lord say,
the black stallion of the skies.
It is not freedom from prison he seek; it is
the darkness that man feels within self,
It is freedom from the hypnotic thought of change,
thieves we meet: All life is now a soulless
prison, the spirit of death, beaten down,
A wild suspense between heaven and hell:
But unto the image of man, life
upon the silhouette of his home ;
Remembering the message God
whispered upon his ear, son we are one,
Continue your journey, which you may come home


I give to thee the lifeline that you may grow in the Universe.
Your tribes shall carry your name, and the seed shall live on.
I give to thee the jewels women that you shall breed,
Many nations, your legacy shall live on.
I the father and the son of prophesy hear me as I speak.
Let not vanity kill your roots, as the lynching of your brothers
Shall repeat until you my son come together as one,
Damnation shall be your legacy to come.

I have given to you great nations, the seed of the seed.
My son you continue to make the same mistake.
Be not the follower of the flock, but the leader of the sheep.
Let not the history of your pass be the victory of the dark.
Rise upon your universe, and gather your inheritance as I
Have given you my son; There was only one tribe of Abraham
Your children shall be lost; A banded not your seed for it is genocide
Upon your own family tree I have given you great wealth.
As the Niles of the African voices scream within the air
Wisdom shall be your freedom from the burning universe,
you dwell.

Reclaim your identity that your roots will honor you with great wealth.
I never made a slave only those who continue to try to destroy
The creations of my holy turf Rise my Prophets the world is yours
To claim I shall continue to send my
Sons until your mission is complete
Pick up the torch and lead, get up of your
Knees, a close mind is the destiny
Which you may lead, your legacy is written for the world to see.
Seek and you shall find great wisdom of your history.
I the father God have given you a command, which you must complete.

Women are the partners that I give to thee.
If you give her power she will
Take your legacy act as the prophet that I ordained to lead.
If you crawl as a worm you shall be stepped on as so.
Forget not about the women, who I give to thee,
For your nations to rise upon the mountain of Calvary
Beware of those who come in the name of women.
Thy daughter is the link between the heavens and earth.
There will be many who shall continue to curse your every move.

Remember my son we are one. Stand tall in the name of thy God.
I shall bring you through. Beware of those who come in my name.
Be not fool by the trickery of Satan game.
I am you and you are me. If I die so will you.
I cry the blood that you my son reclaim your stool.
Water your roots that they may grow.
The sins shall fall upon your daughters and sons.
Remember son we are one.


The wounds that surface as the heat of hell,
The heritage of a lost soul
Tears shall not forfeit my stool.
I the soldier of Gods Army
Like the thief in the night sounds of historic lies,
Hide behind the abundance of lye’s within the dark.
The dead is not dead, the truth shall not be silence.

Kings of Kings and 145 inventors shall not be erase.
It’s not the power of suggestions; it’s the solution of corrections,
The Black man is not dead
the ruler of great nations, riches of sons of sons
Stolen by the devil sons, as thy children look on
Sacrifice by thy brothers, sisters of the revolution.
Thy children sit behind the back door.
As man give his inheritance away their seeds.


Cloaked in a mindless tunnel, without visions of tomorrow,
within the slave master theories documents altered stolen
Inheritance which was given by God
Mythological scripts that proceed in the books
Tampered and tarnished
Hooded mask that wear black face
Who refuse to even acknowledge their rightful place?


I the wounded soldier walk with the banner
The wounded solider carry the scars of my army
Sing not the victory my heritage shall not be ruled by another.
Ejaculation diversity a stolen legacy;
The man, warrior, king, the inheritance of the father,
Life in abundance cries for internal love;
look through the windows of the mind,
breathing the light within the taste of breath.
Sweet smells of Glory.
Transformation of the soul sings,
on the mountains of Calvary.
The eyes of the almighty,
has breathed upon my trust.
The deep breathes from the immensity of the heavens,
dreams within the bleeding palms of humanities.
Reactions of a divine soul


The windows are no longer faded,
life symbols within the windows of tomorrow.
Sing a song, breathe as the chariots,
sings its on songs.
Amazing grace oh sweet the sounds,
that transform the soldier of the lord.
Step out side the body,
and read the words
that written in the windows of love.
Actions of a divine soul


The End
Hazy shades of insanity premises of reality
Folded into mortal carbon.
As I shield from the demon’s
what do they look like, myself.
I cannot protect me from me,
only my spirit that cries out to thee.

As the world slowly decay.
And the blood leads a
trail each end you meet History repeats.
No Justice no Peace, As the City trembles from the heat.
The screams of the motherless,
children without a family tree, Prisons, concentration camps
Fatherless, mothers less children weeps.
As the warriors take arms, for there beliefs, who is wrong?
The storms clutter the skies fires that cry out loud.
Children the hostage of there family tree;
Warriors without arms, Dictators screaming
Slavery has claimed its victims once again.
Children now the victims of the slave masters reign.
No Justice no Peace.

Children take arms raising self, darkness that leads.
There future without leaders to defeat their liberties
for the family no longer exists.
As the fire continues to burn
the World loose all values of Gods spoken words.

The End.

A man without a conscious has no soul, A man who lives for self,
zombies of the living dead, a man who turns his head,
upon his brother who is enslaved without cause,





noumicollective@2004