Assiduous roots

Self hate
won’t lay roots
in me…
as I am
assiduously mighty,
held aloft by
them Glorious ones
who ain’t
never bent their
knees to travesty,
predisposed
to get off
our rumps
and do something
with the gumption
to remind those
who come after…
so they can know
how we made it.

Poet not a pastor
a Griot not a theologian,
but I am oft quoted,
hosted on web pages
blessed by the sages.

Denying your roots
in search
of adjacency,
Is damning
and sacrilegious…
on a timeline
ruled by fools
and their minions
blathering about nothing
while pillaging
the treasury,
but the wicked
cannot stand,
lest they topple…
I eschew despots and harlots
with impeccable diction
no fiction…
done with a flourish
as my Old man
used to say…
poetry likened to
gamma rays
for days
by way of the water’s edge
calming down,
my Dr. Banner
as you won’t like me,
when I’m angry.