Black Heroes: second movement (“liberating the language of legacy”)

“Long live the black rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared.”
— Tupac Shakur

All ebony & saxish
like the bouquet
Of black roses called the cosmos

The shimmery
Shadow
Of my wandering spiritsong
Sprouts

From shrouds of traveling souls
Battered & tattered & left behind
To be pieced back together
By epitaphs of our talking paths
Through eternal moments
Giving sound to silence, and life
To everything, even the excerpts

Undefined by time
but improvised
In music of our minds. long live

The black rose
As it grows
Beneath the black light (& its
Ultraviolet

Scope of hope) with wisdom
To understand the gravity
That draws us back — even
When we are forced apart.
We are one blood, Humanity —

Why can’t hue see?
ain’t it ’bout
time we take
Heed
of our own
history. Time
To unlearn the lies
& revive our legacy.

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