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The Poetry of Robert L. Jones, Jr. Part 4

Updated on March 30, 2017

Black diamond

black diamond


robert l. jones, jr.


a most sovereign deity of 3rd heaven-

enthroning divinity/done radically endued

my ever-generating propensity for kingly

chic notoriety/with that charisma-surging

electricity of bravely liberating durability/and

with an enormous sum of them stoned

incomparable rays of sundry inspiration/from

a highly aerial lineage of my greatly

ancestral forerunners/i would be so

supremely upright and readily inexhaustible

within my happily enduring stance of immutably

strengthened resolution/as i amazingly stand

(therefore) like the profoundly paramount

epitome of a nubia-rugged patriot/who’d be so

massively statuesque in that victoriously

sustaining posture of mightily indivisible

tenacity/and i’d be worthily surviving and proficiently

steadfast within my elaborate stature of

thriving overflow/while i also be fervently

exemplar in that black star-spangled demeanor/of

confidently placing an emotionally tightened fist

over my kuumba-thumping heart/and haughtily

pledge some amandla-rapping allegiance to The

REVOLUTION/and to the equally human republic for

which it beautifully represents/so without the

overwhelmingly timid apprehension of fearfully

shaky hesitation/this madeba-enlivened son of

[afro]indigenous origin/can most assuredly be

in that dynamite culture of resting

a perfectly sharpened needle/into that cipher-

spinning groove of some sable-adorning triumph/as i

transfigure out my uniquely colossal

awareness of phenomenally evolving selfhood/into that

tremendous spectacle of a living word-dispersing

oracle [of truthfully revealing experience]/that

be so capaciously fluent in them downtown-

colloquial maxims of some shonuff heavy-hitting

vernacular/which be correctly attesting to my

bonanza-grabbing essence of versatile identity/as a

cosmos-conquering cat daddy with just enough

of that boldly solidifying fortitude/to ultimately

overcome all of them treacherous strongholds and

crazily mammoth obstacles of cruel and

incorrigible resistance/and in the duly notable

threshold of an anxiously anticipated outcome/i

would solemnly swear up a specially sacred oath

unto my own copious definition of proudly befitting

courage/to powerfully win that dramatically

prevailing opportunity of freely allowing both of my

righteously enamored hands/to pitch an

extravagantly panoramic banner of some undeniably

signifying conquest and wildly flagging destiny/and i

would just let it soulfully trip the light fantastic

within its blissfully dancing jig amongst them

gently clean and sweetly effervescent breezes/of some

positively easygoing loftiness in a magically

aerodynamic atmosphere of rapturous blue/so in them

extremely funky tactics of organically

impressive rhythm/i would be strutting on

unbelievably strong and brightly debonair inside of

my youthfully spontaneous patterns of rebel-

marching finesse/as my ground-discovering

travelers of orthopedic mastery be mountain-stepping

to the motherland-melodic beat of a d’jembe drummer/and

i suddenly be getting that richly stimulating adrenaline of

papa shaka/so that i may be so resplendent

within my militant dexterity to furiously invade

them chaotically rocky hilltops of caucasus

infamy/and i shall very necessarily take back into

my zealous-to-death possession/that newly retrieved

and graciously esteeming bounty of some ancient

dignity-invoking diplomacy (in successfully glowing

transcendence)/and from this widely expanding

dimension of virtuous joy/i surely be

celebrating [hardcore] in that house partying vibe of

keenly observing my superbly grandiose behavior in

puissant ascent/and i’d be abundantly established well

within my significantly boss disposition to become

strictly cavalier with my unquenchable

desire/for living stupendously large as a clever

professor and b-i-g like notorious/through

my easily laborious chorus of harmonious unity with

that body-provoking movement/of openly expressing the

illustrious standard of my innately venerating

existence/as an abnormally exalted deviation from

that bamboozling mean of shuffling

shamefulness/and with a self-appreciating toke

of some substantially baroque gumption/i shall be

excitably vigilant within that inner-approving

reward/of permanently chilling inside of my

absolutely outstanding median of some world class-

styling recompense/where i have wisely chosen to

just mentally emancipate from them morally chagrined

mysticisms of character-killing reproach and guilt-

riddled disgrace/and thereby in the patiently ticking

process of prolific time/i would definitely be in the

genuinely opulent scene/of vitally radiating my

attractively resonating accents of stunningly

sterling shimmer/as an exquisitely shining

stone of finely polished ebony/amongst a universally

connected treasure of beautifully pristine diamonds-in-

black/as they, too, be ornately showing forth

their originally glistening sparkle of

afrika-ornamenting pricelessness///

Milk and Honey-Rupi Kaur


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