Back in the day

when I had a head full of formal education

and a chest full of collection-plate religion

living the rituals of myths long forgotten

dogged out by Caucasians used up by black folk

full of sublime guilt and unbalanced love/hate

consumed by nameless fear that

bound me to the normal delusion that

the illusion of external finite crap

is more valid than the reality of infinite internal wisdom

Searching for truth with lying eyes

reaching for peace with closed fist

racing toward freedom in the opposite direction

each mistake being a correct action

lifting the dark glass between me and you and us and them

inspiring me to fall on my knees in holy reverence

bow my head

put my palms together before my face and say

fuck it

i will do my praying

like the wind and flowers pray

asking for nothing