BLACK FLAMES THAT BURNED IN MY ANCESTORS' BLOOD

In The Circle Of My Fire... 

( Poetry... words that will become flesh in the lives of those who lynched and burned my brothers and sisters, and those who maintain the prisons that seek to keep us enslaved ) 

Judge and jury sitting scared…
Prosecutors trembling in electric chairs…
Here I am…Sitting in the dark court of my mind
Strumming the chords of my accusers’ fears
The anger in me turns to fire…
Black flames that burned in my ancestors’ blood
Burning…Blazing… I have become a blasting inferno
Of purple-hearted flames…
Sitting here with a callused glare
Melting the shield of those who dare…
Who dare to confine…And judge me


They sit in the sty of their own degradation
Breathing the stench of a putrid self-righteousness…
Tense with anticipation undefined…
Anxious to know what’s on my mind… they shuffle…
As I sit still…breathing slow full breaths
Thinking dark red thoughts
Making them wait…for a certain uncertain fate


A circle of flames from the hell of my hate now surrounds my adversaries…
Fanned by their own generic fears ...It singes them inside out
Conforming to my wishes that they should be afraid… Sore afraid
Until they tremble at the edge of their own outer limits
I do not care about their screams… Nor their tears
For it is their fear I want to indulge…
It is not their hurt I seek…
Just to break them... Not to make them crawl…
But to change their minds
And burn down every illusion that they have built
About their superiority…
About their right
To rule
Me


I train my flames to lick their lies
I make them live…In the circle of my fire…
I…make them live…In the circle of my fire