LIONZ OF ZION

Blessed to the queens of the African/ Edenic Diaspora;

With the eclecticism of your mind from the servitude of time;

You have revolutionize the worlds many infrastructures;

Time has elasticized your queen-dome into becoming a source of profit;

Corporates has commercialized your physical beauty and projected your sexuality to the masses;

Conforming you to the Tell-Iie-Vision that falsify your essential merit;

Still in all with Gods will you have already proven to them that they are a bunch of crosses;

Clinging to your heritage and culture is what makes you and your king compatible as a unit;

Even though the diversification of your circumference leads you to vulnerability;

You are a compassionate being who expounds upon the true meaning of the word humanity;

You are to mankind the source of their delight and the hight of their might;

In rage you will stand firm and put up a fight;

In love you will show the magnitude of your affection and the core of your devotion;

Sacrificing yourself with every convulsion;

You are the LIONZ OF ZION.

written by: Ricky Mitchell

photo by: Ethiopia Het-Heru

mitche230@yahoo.com

copyright 2010

THE ART OF TRUE LOVE MAKING

As I look through the windows of your soul; I see you in return looking through mine;

The oval of your eyes commenced to open as our connection began to unfold;

Feeling the  neurochemicals of your emotional colours;

The beauty of love reveals its self so bold;

I touched your mind; you massaged my intellectual lines;

So vividly fine... I cannot leave you behind;

As you caress my intellect and wreck my kingdom with crescent waves of cerebral orgasms and brain spasms from your queendom;

A new course of love has emerged;

At the center lies a fascinating hormone called... you and I,

I want you spiritually and mentally; forget the physicality which needs to mantain its rightful place as being secondary;

No need to rush for the bed; undress my mind and come inside my core instead;

Surf with me through the deepest soulistic water of my intellect;

Hold me close to your neurological fibers and allow our passion to spread;

 The mind is the most powerful, hypnotic, intoxicating, and narcotic force in the universe;

So when we converse let us exercise our mind and expand the challenges of each unique verse;

Can you feel the essential most natural aphrodisiac of all times?

So creative we are with our artistic feelings that no other being can accept its foundational element; 

through you I see the lost of love for women kind;

so dark, so unsure, and so confused;

like animals they move indiscriminately from one mate to another in search of love;

failing to realize that they have lost the true path;

they have abandon the neocortex of their language, which is the mainstream of their be-loved brain stem;

The foreplay of the mind and that intellectual and sexual gradification that follows,

leads you and I into a social stratusphere that is so clear and divine;

I see you; you see me; I see your family; you see my dynasty; so shall it be our destiny;

I wish not to unlock our connection,

But I know that having too much of you will only weaken and spoil the beauty of our affection;

 Thus I will let you free and pray that we do not allow our lower anatomy to capture our mental and spiritual faculties;

written by Ricky Mitchell

mitche230@yahoo.com

coyright 2010

THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY DEGREES

Glory was the days when you were hustling away;

Crack, cocaine, Marihuana, you name it; you had it made;

The street corners were your precious domain;

Needy people flourished around your presence craving for the essence that would ease their pain;

Dressed in suit and ties, like the aristocrats of modern times;

Education was still planted in mind;

Camouflaged like a chameleon, no one knew your real intentions;

To live the life of glamour, you sacrificed all that you could remember;

Up and down the iron horses you would travel;

Bus runs were your routine pedal; seven days a week you would struggle;

Wanting those presidents that have already been covered with pebbles;

Six feet under they humbled;

Rest assure the day came where you stumbled;

Confined between four walls and a couple of bars; you withered in storm;

Feeling lost and gone, you prayed and mourned;

As you continued through the days, years swiftly and rigorously clothed your fears;

Bearing time on the cross of injustice now became the crusade that you faced;

What a disgrace, family and friends gradually became displaced;

No more grace stood in place;

Now confronted with thoughts of change;

The transitional phase uprooted in flames;

Gallons of sweat flooded your pores as you submerged in rage;

The battle began between the four devils:

Lust, envy, hate, and jealousy of all that stood in you;

Three hundred and sixty degrees you screamed like a banshee;

Past actions of running the streets became your nightmares;

Can you go back, should you proceed, or should you let it be and flee?

Such misery clamped onto you to keep you company;

Still in all the day came where the trumpet would sound;

You thus psyched out all that surrounded you;

Only to listen out for that sweet melody;

Free at last, the meteorological climate gradually dissipated;

Feeling refined you journeyed on with your life;

Thinking about all the goals and aspirations that you had created;

The tools that would build your foundation continued to be mended;

New associates, new friends, new and old families, and a job that allowed you to be contented;

This is the glory that is now the milestone of your past;

What won't breake you will only make you stronger;

As you get older these thoughts of yours you will always remember;

Three hundred and sixty degrees brings forth a new chapter

written by Ricky Mitchell

mitche230@yahoo.com

copyright 2006

GHETTO ASPIRATION

Living in the heart of the ghetto people struggle to find their identity;

Minds twisted with all sorts of sorrows, sympathy, empathy, and poverty;

their longevity still strong enough to uphold with humanity through immunity;

Staying truthful to the life that they live;

they voice their opinions through instrumental grids;

While others look to see the coming of a new born messiah;

new people are born in to the linage of the struggle;

Mothers upholding their responsibilities to maintain and support their future;

While fathers situate themselves on the metaphorical Vatican Mountain to fight the battle of Armageddon through their nine to five;

Babylonian affairs gradually crumble like the Great Wall of China;

Structures turning into dust and ashes through scorching flames of fire;

Politicians of every nation seeks the key of knowledge to unlock the mystical events that were predicted by Michel De Nostradamus;

Canvassing many areas like scavengers they are faced with acquisitions like Nicodemus;

Lonely spirits flood the cities;

Blood showering down like bulks of rain drops;

As gun shots reek-a-shay off buildings from building tops;

Salvation is yearning by the people;

The black star lines ventures to return to the front line of the ocean shores;

Waiting for repatriation back to the home land of the cradle of hue-men;

their glories are as sweet and tasty, as meat is to carnivores;

Africans of all descents join together like the million men march of nineteen-ninety-five;

Like lions roaring for satisfaction,

the Diaspora screams out for joy and ecstacy as they revive;

Lost souls of the gehtto stands firm with their guns ready to blaze;

Unification of the righteous civilization repent upon the scornful retrospective days;

Like the Buffalo Soldiers of modern times;

The universe shines bright with the colors of red gold and green;

Like wolfs in sheep's clothing false prophets are revealed by their true nature;

Equal Rights triumph over the relentless chauvinistic monarchies;

Hue-man- entities (Humanity) continue to await the day when they should reign as kings and queens

written by: Ricky Mitchell

mitche230@yahoo.com

copyright 2005