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Beauty In Cages

Cages, a space where we imprison things we fear.

A space where danger lurks and we can admire its beauty,

From a distance…

From afar off I stare, from afar off I am amazed

Marveling in the hues of colour, in the strength of the captured.

 

Locked in and chained

Restrained from running free, from flying high

From being.

 

Birds can’t fly free anymore

I’ve clipped their wings so I can gaze at their splendor

While they sing the song of freedom, redemption song.

From a dead tree trunk wishing for green leaves.

 

Orange and black stripes lurking on the forest floor

Now anesthetized by metal bars and bullet proof glass

Hear me Roar!

Hear me growl, feeding on piece of dead horses instead of hunting

Game…

 

But is it a game that we cage that which is beautiful

Because we are fearful?

We put minds in the cage of education systems

Restraining thought because we fear, we may be wrong

Wrong about origins, wrong about religion, wrong about being right

Wrong about our conclusions.

 

Minds with music, minds with art,

Minds with supple flexible bodies

Making silhouettes with moonlight.

Minds held back, minds in binds

Don’t question this don’t question that.

Stay in line, march in time

March like everyone else till we’re all blind; walking with cages on our minds.

As we admire the hues and possible plumes of each other

Fearing the beauty of another

 

Why put minds in cages?

When curiosity is beauty

Exploring the expansiveness beyond the lock and key

Beauty in mental boxes

Beauty in captivity

The systems and traditions we’ve put

To cage our true beauty

Be free, be free.

©2017

Stephen John

Published S2J2 Publishings

Who?

Who told you black was ugly?

Who Taught you to fear your skin?

Without black we cannot see the stars.

Without black where would red, green, white and yellow begin?

I know it wasn’t God! because from your beauty all life would begin.

Because from your beauty all life would begin.

 

Who told you that hair could be nappy?

Who told you kinks were dirty?

Who told you fros were wrong and should be frowned upon

I know it wasn’t God!

For he gave you your hair as a crown.

 

Who told you, you were uncivilised?

Who told you, you couldn’t speak?

Who told you, you were illiterate, when for centuries you could already read?

Who told you your language was gibberish?

Who told you to change your name?

I know it wasn’t God!

Because he knows and called you by name

 

Who told you your drum was evil?

Who told you your rhythm was demonic?

Who told you to stop playing it?

And to play their rhythm…their music?

Who told you your music was dirty?

Who told you stop that song?

I know it wasn’t God?

He’s the author of music. he created it all.

 

Who told you your dance was unholy?

Who told you not to move your waist?

Who told you, you are a sex symbol,

Good for nothing except a nightly fling?

Who told you to stop dancing and taught you their dance instead?

I know it wasn’t God!

Diversity in praise is his plan.

 

Whoever told you is a liar!

Whoever told you is a thief!

Whoever told you wants to steal, kill and destroy!

Take away what God created you to be.

Whoever wants to rule you!

Whoever told you doesn’t care!

Whoever told you, is ignorant to the fact that God looked at you and said…

“It is very good”

 

Break free of the shackles

Free your mind of the chains

Let God’s image be seen in your blackness

His beauty…His creation…His and only…His

 

 

©2016

Stephen John

Published S2J2 Publishings