By Edward Taylor III
…SSSSWWWAAAPPP…
The sound of the belt ricochet’s throughout the house;
The shout of “Do what I say nigga!”
…SSSWWWAAAPPP…
Takes me back through my blood line to a meeting with my ancestors to hear those same words,
“Do what I say nigger!”
…SSSWWWAAAPPP…
Then I’m brought back to today to hear the belt…
I mean whip… or is it belt…? Crack the air once again;
…SSSWWWAAAPPP…
This time the screams from a grown man are heard, looking up from the cotton field I see a naked man bound by iron,
I feel for him…
…SSSWWWAAAPPP…
“Do what I say nigga!” shouts are repeated,
I guess this is the best way to teach them… right?
“This Nigger’s got to learn to do what he’s told.”
…SSSWWWAAAPPP…
“BOY! You gonna learn to do what I say!”
Man I wish the border between discipline & abuse was clearly seen, so we can raise men & women without the malicious poison of mean,
These are our sons & daughters, generations which will remember us long after the world has forgotten our names.
Ask yourself parent “How can I change this?” the next time you reach for your whip… I mean belt… or is it whip…? To correct Your child or is it to break your slave?
Your sons & daughters or… Are they Niggas, more properly Niggers;
Let’s as parents not redo what’s already been done, can’t you hear the cries of your young one?
“Teach me!!!”
“With love…”
Tipping Season
by Edward Taylor III
I pour my dreams into the soul of the ink; pen caresses paper & I sink into timeless space, my mind blinks still photo’s link the past to present with future glimpses, creating His-story.
Mingled in this caldron of emotion are vision’s of an appointed time, where grace imparted faith tips the scales like added weights;
Drip…
Drop…
Drip…
Drops sprinkle my face, like fresh rain to a wilting rose, now glowing with expectation, My eye’s excite at the tilting of vessel’s containing favors fresh milk, my arms extend to receive a long-awaited embrace, my dry mouth longing for the taste of life, the taste light.
Stream’s begin to flow from the overhead container this begins the division between lack & fulfilment with perfection being the remainder; no reminding residue of the sin conscious mind – clear of any variableness of shadow.
That old man of the flesh has gasped his last breath in sins death. I begin to live, boasting the sovereign power of my king, I stand under his downpour thirsty no more…
I Can’t See Right
By Edward Taylor III
I still can’t see right? So I write the vision plain as a flame in the night: But I still can’t see right?
So I write down my hearts desires waiting for the manifestation of my expectations: But I still can’t see right?
Amongst the raging waves of thought my hope floats on a life raft of promise: But I still can’t see right?
So with a breath & one motion to my knees, emotions linked to tears like branches to trees, my cries pour out: But I still can’t see right?
So I take two steps to the left to alter my view, then my eyes open to see Me free, known of the Father before I first knew me;
Why couldn’t I see before the blessing that surrounds: Why couldn’t I taste before of the grace that flow’s from crown to feet?
I rest in amazement seeing all that grace came with; enabling me to apprehend all that I was apprehended for;
Much more than a shell of a man, now in Christ I stand. Look in my eyes & see a soul redeemed;
In the quietness of thought hear my heart sing, hear the voice of salvation ring;
Behold the light of men, because without him your understanding is still darkened,
&
You won’t be able to see right…
I Need to Know
I will to know of he who cloaked me in his love, to know of the spirit free to soar above all names;
I need to know the king who reigns in all domains, I need to know, I need the revelation –
I need my revelation of you for me to see your everlasting power & strength you reign with to grip my salvation;
Never erasing who you made me to be, see this is my plea, please greet me with the light of your word,
Enlighten my eye’s of understanding,
I AM –
Prison of Vanity
by Edward Taylor III
I had a dream I was crashing into moments, blinded by the glare of memories;
Misdirected missteps led me to a void of emptiness,
In this, existed dreams which became toys of affectionate wishes.
Here – vision groaned for an exorcism out of vanities prison, with bloody finger nails creativity clawed at the wall of deceptive reality,
Painful memories & fearful moments bind the mind leaving it blind, Subdued by consistent doses of disappointment,
Until original purpose & intent became merely faint voices in the distant wind;
Here dominant are the figments of the imagination, which offer fragments of dis-eases…
A sudden shout grips my ear,
“WAKE-UP!”
“Grab my hand & I’ll lead you out!”
Grace grips my hand resurrecting hope, faith opens the prison gates, my footsteps pound the past I swiftly forsake,
As I exit through the gates of condemnation the mark of bondage is suddenly erased by one word forgiven…
I had a dream I was living in purpose, a King drinking from the fountain of life, having escaped the corruption of memory, free from the bondage of who I used to be…
FAITH DRIVEN
by Edward Taylor III
I’ve been uniquely made to walk a road that’s been laid – paved by words anointed,
Faith Driven…
Before time was expanded – this was written,
Faith Driven…
Grace giving power to stride, as wide as the length of the wind, infinite is my beginning eternal is my end,
Faith Driven…
My righteous soul bends, at a whim, for my kings command;
Though clothed in man, I am so much greater, I’ve been made a partaker of the divine nature,
Faith Driven…
With one life deleted newness has been preceded by word & breath,
Spirit enlightened, awakened from the slumber of death, now with Gods inception my eye’s project,
Dreams of purpose I must protect,
Living in word – the bread of life, I heard to hear the hope that draws near;
This is what drives me to Faith, Hope, & Love, pressing for the greatest of these,
Pressing for the manifestation of three –
Faith Driven…
Patiently Waiting
by Edward Taylor III
…(sigh)…
All I want LORD is some peace of mind , some peace in my time, time to relax, reflect, & reconnect with self, To self adjust cause perfection is a must;
God must have an extraordinary reason for my breath’n,“Be in tune” I keep thinking, “you’ll get there by faith understanding & grace;”
But what I’ve faced on this journey to my promise land, has not made me a fan of the trails I’ve endured, nor the ones yet to come,
So come what may, may God allow me to stay on this path of gold leading me to riches untold, knowledge unfolds mysteries, “cold peace!”, is my speech revelation speaks, truth explodes, & strong delusion grows quiet,
This small flame has turned into a RIOT OF PRAISE, which changes the tone of my complaining, My heart-felt real, my way now is sealed, so rejoice! & again I say rejoice for my voice has declared Gods good & complete works,
Yes – all this was, is , & will be worth it, for it’s all for my good that at the end my legacy will be perfect, perfectly established hand-crafted by the Masters hands THAT’s the testimony of this man…
EXPOSED
by Edward Taylor III
My eyes widen with a sudden rush of blood to the head, Like a high school crush this lust has crushed all reason,
I grasp my chest to catch my breath, breathing in this moment, absorbing every detail, My body frozen in an intense spell;
Then they call me to front, each motion to the stage is a fantasy turned reality, Stepping to the microphone I switch my voice to swagger tone,
As I stand flat-footed,
I examine my gun, load my bullets, spoken word in the chamber, the crowd screaming for me to,
“Pull trigger!”
So I unleash words in rapid fire rhythm causing casualties of the mind;
Thoughts are transformed, spirits awakened, & hope is taken to new highest, metaphors pound on drums of the ear,
HEAR…
HEAR… HEAR…
The flow dripping from tongue, flood victims of poetic truth now I leave you,
Touched by passion & exposed to greatness,
NOW…!
Elements of She
by Edward Taylor III
How long will the simple feast at the banquet of fools –
When it’s her insight they hunger for?
She possess a beauty which is to be more sought after than the rarest pearl in the sea.
She veil’s her face behind the shadow of words, to find her is to find understanding.
She walks in a garment meant for royalty.
She stands atop the highest peak calling out to those who need her compelling men to seek her.
Kings lust for her presence, rulers become beggars at her feet.
She is the guide leading men through the mist of choice-
When She spoke to Me…
her voice…
The very essence of reason.
She taught me her way’s;
She showed me great mysteries, & as I rested in her bosom..,
The waters of time stood still, frozen as a river caught in winters chill.
I soon fell in love with the warmth of her inspiration,
& when I awoke!
I found myself wed to her.
(…Sigh…)
awww-
Wisdom…