The curls rose from his head,
Strong, like trees with roots in a place unknown
Begging you to touch, run your fingers through
From his chin, curled a long flowing, curling, swirling
Framing his face in striking repose.
Attaching a distinguished, a scholarly look
A strong dark color, like molasses with a
pinch of purple
Eyes the color of magenta, ebony
Shining bright with knowledge of places
from which we are not privileged to know.
Long flowing locks, touching shoulders broad
with a smile so sensous.
Speaking words to bring back history of the world.
Telling stories of the past, present and future.
Questioning that which the ivory tower media
Presses fast in daily limericks on brainwashed masses
Using methods to tell lie stories we all need not hear
He stands out in crowds, Heads above the many men and women
Causing fear to rise forth and spring out memories of that
which is never forgotten
Deeds done to these brother/ancestors to their bodies of
broad backs and whip lashed bodies and dreadlocks swinging
He speaks of change, of opportunity
and bringing stability to his family
Sunshine smiles that brings light to female forms
that still cant find the answer in his gaze.
Lilting long eyelashes that women would kill for
and die to smile into
Stand next to and have gaze at them.
He is youth, Young, Origin, Unencumbered, Talented, Hero.
He is Young Gift and Black.
His voice is strong, like god walking on the water,
calling you to listen
His presence fills the room, captures your attention,
prepares you to hear
His knowledge is unlimited to his age in years,
and bring images on griots of old
Whose only job is to continue the legacy,
pass down the history, tell the story
He walks tall without structure and gives meaning
to words you heard yesterday
Yet did not comprehend.
His skin is color honey smooth, untouched by white poisons,
and unwrinkled with age
He has mastered the art of reading his people
and will speak for them,
with them and to them
He is old
They are all one the and the same BROTHERS