i call on the names
of those i remember and those, that i don’t
recollecting to my ears, the aliases who wish to answer, but won’t.
the graces and flames which turned into
forgettable acronyms, twisted humor, and abbreviated syntax – are disposed to remember in a ear featuring protective yellow substantive wax!
the status quo? 
they wish me to know !
but i rather die a revolutionary – than to a live the dream of a capitalist confectionery!
the dialects of such life – assumes much strife!
cuz the work?
continues!
on & on
until you feel gone. 
but that’s when transformation can unfold!
the arrival of such space, welcomes blissful grace – with many glories to be told
if we are to abide – our capillary waves
mustn’t challenge, the historical daze
days which fluctuate and amaze – through revisionist and deferred speech, written by propaganda ink – making yachts sink, and captains think – silver and gold continue to hold…
in the minds that want more 
the store doesn’t hold the luxury items on the floor
instead – they’re kept hidden and enclosed until certainty is made the fool
for the system must rule : by restricting the means to gain
………

then comes the rain 
wherein my suspicion stood next me 
tucked underneath where the acclaims and trophies reside
could they be looking to expose or hide : the crevices which peep through the hole?
the placement of such subject and title embodies a whimsical troll
now
the score must be played 
but only within a harmonious lecture and tune
otherwise the moon 
may prove to be full of blood
when it transitions & accumulates like a flood 
the yoke, entangles the mule to keep still
to restrain but to also feel
for this struggle of resistance 
has called us to analyze and organize !
for theory and dialectical material 
will likewise
resize – the measures and digits you aim to apprise
but it doesn’t stop there
this work is ongoing thus carefully fine-tuning your awareness of the’ where : of the snare’
the ‘how’ of the ‘vow’
the ‘when’ of the wind has blown
again…
asking you to turn into the tune of the collective masses 
this congregation will assist you with a new pair of ‘glasses’
to help you see with eyes not only belonging to your own
so that you may read and remember the seeds that have grown
to the ancestors I say : àṣẹ!
may we acknowledge and seek to be : in light of this protracted stream
we can perpetually fight and recognize their dream!
in spite of what it seems…
forwards ever, backwards Never!