Poetry in Motion of Peace

Corre corre (run, run)
First time I got away from the b-boys.
On my way to school in this crazy hood
these dudes’ upkeep like an everyday mood
with trembling sounds from the train clan noise.

In my mind, it clashes my bones, causing
pain. The running tracks above us are insane.
My legs bumping and rubbing the fogging
of punching scabs from my peeling skin strain.

Da-Dum is the Afro-sound Cuban drums
I run towards the subway train quit split
from the flies and UFOs on a blitz
the corre sound, corre, of Afro drums.

I close my eyes and connect with my crowns
soul to pray for the rebirth of these clowns.

Bully

Why allow him to bully you, Pedro?
When education allows you freewill
their engraving ways a scheme will
syringe your action like it is play dough.

A streaming wave narcotic telling though
a puppet twine steers your decline mate
using your intellectual as bait
they intimidate and oppress your glow.

The bully, as usual, keeps fiendish
forked tongue in ear beating like a circle
at Pedro and persuades him to be burgle
who reacts with blunt, smolder face squeamish.

We miscible store bully like goodie
chew out his insane brain as a cookie.

How holy?

How, Maria, do we become holy?
The evil dupe coerces our soul corrupt
with a hoodoo to hinder and obstruct,
though with keenness, slay prayer slowly.

Cut rudeness out of life, gratitude wholly.
I praise the creator with confessions
of invoked words for the throne’s accessions
to reconcile self and stop unholy.

As in holy, our person embodies
our brothers and sisters accept the bread
and wine eucharist to become one head
through prayers in the heavenly faith body.

The ritual of acting pure, human
zoom in divine through the maker’s crewman.

An Afro Caribbean Elegy Song

Evil comes to our favorite muse tree.
The spirit screeched her last catch of breath.
We rant lilt; the gulps of echos sound free.
Whop hits the crowd hard, rejecting her death.

We dance to Babalu to restore health.
But no need to speak with God’s referee.
Saint Lazarus awakens healthy wealth.
As we chant, disco afro-king decrees.

In the rain, mother earth grows winds and trees.
She boosts our voices with cleansing zoom strength.
To raise ourselves on the theater marquee.
Her joint action is heavenly in length.

She trained us to research and learn success.
Afro-Caribbean elegy tree.
It would be unnatural to give repress.
Vivian Castro Mosley is God’s tree.

School Girl

Schoolgirl gazing from the window,
The sky beyond beckons you to go.
Your dreams and heart so full,
Stepping forth revealed, so bold and beautiful.

A future long ahead awaits,
Your intuition the promise of what will be great.
Sweet hopes of success your reward,
Unlock the mysteries of life with your earnest accord.

Unstoppable passions, life’s vast expanse,
A desire for knowledge that will never wane.
Life’s hidden gifts waiting in the wings,
Discernment and fortitude your wings to fly.

Enlightened and forged, your spirit soars,
Behold the wonders, the battle is won!
Adventures abound guiding you evermore.
Your brave heart has gone to the sun!

A Polite Dance

Dear Amber, beautiful African queen
Beauty shows no hue, but abundance of grace seen
Your natural locs and skin of deep brown hue
Speak of culture so vibrant and true

Your beauty lures a powerful source
A trail of pride and artistic force
Your strength within to brave and soar
This forever more your African lore

Through ages and time beauty you hold
A stand of honor never to fold
Love and music and affirming call