Spider Woman and the Twin War Godz Lynching Tree Memory, Cotton & the Lynching Tree Gang.

Author:Nzinga, Ayodele

Spider Woman and the Twin War Godz riding with spider woman and twin war Godz born into a state of war divined to be she who remembers shield carrier spear chucker hard to duck her up right in storm moving forward like water persistently efficient at removing obstacles climber striver dream walker talking to the dead i only fall forward i stand on what came before me i do not recognize fences so i can't sit on them nothing divides me i only multiply my shadow covering all the ground upon which i stand unafraid born free unapologetic in possession of dignity i promise you nothing you will know me by the works of my hands moving mountains and making crooked places well-lit being very straight about what lies in the dark ignorance is a good excuse but a poor shield so i bleed light i have come to make change and nothing but change can change that no scrambles for cheese prosperity follows me the abundant shiny one seeking justice done three eyed with an inability to act blind as time waits for no one i make time to wake the deaf and see to it that the blind are reminded to remember what they were born knowing it's not their eyes that have failed I will prevail one path only forward into change or the void i remain who i came to be she who remembers silently in small moments will deliver reciprocity like the new take out you found will never forget its my duty to remember its me rattling your cage tapping on the window resilient determined after me i have insured there will be more all of us riding with spider woman and twin war Godz with freedom on our mind forever forward three eyed with an inability to act blind we pray with our hands moving promising nothing save reciprocity Lynching Tree Memory there are things I can never do i do not take certain things for granted no rose garden only grey tinted glasses blessed with memory too many people afraid to remember least the scars come open pus all over the crowded bus holding small lives on their way to stale holes in compressed realities with ghost hovering over their sagging shoulders weighted by impossible histories packed into tight airless boxes no light no memories no pain in amnesia curious freedom i remember so i am not free to chain others i can not be overseer can not probe with blue gloves over hands that are not part of the answer just more of the question of how to be sane with the memories of lynching trees the shadows of broken bodies swinging sorrowfully in southern breezes i...

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