The Holiday season

Its the holiday season. Christmas has come and gone and now we're in the middle of Kwanza. But I couldn't leave Christmas behind along with the rest of this joyus time of the year...for most families. Without having written something to reflecthow I feel about it, as a poet, and believer in faith. I've relished in this heart warming time of year with family and friends. So I wrote this piece back on Christmas day, upon request of my pastor in my church. Enjoy and happy holidays and New year!!

The Christmas 3...

While walking in the winter wonderland of life

9:30 am on a Christmas morning,

My mind scribing poetic scriptures cause 

the mind of a poet never sleeps.

Pen and pad in my back pack

ready to pull out to put down what just came to me;

When I happen to run into a group of 

lyrical black Mages who called themselves 

THREE WISE MEN...

Then they told me how thankful I should be this holiday season.

One said, God blessed you with the gift of spoken word.

I kinda figured that, but decided to continue listening

to his rhyme and reasoning;

The 2nd one said, frosty the sand snow man couldn't keep this spoken soldier

of Jesus from speaking the truth to the people;

because like in the bible, there's nothing more powerful than the word.

But I'm like, if you knew the pain of a prophet's torment, then

you'd know spreading the word ain't always easy;

though I must have been put on this earth for a reason

or I wouldn't have taken on the catholic-Christian name of the angel Anthony

Then it was like the third one read my mind cause 

he told me, there real names weren't important,

all that we ask is that you continue letting the jingle bells ring in your soul.

And bring solace to the minds and hearts  of your brothers & sisters

on a spiritual level;

Let go of the chains of pain of ancestors past, and

obstacles of devil worshipers

The children need the conscious reality launched through lethal loogies,

Hawked with heralds the angels can sing

understand, that you, Honest Abraham was birthed into

a county of kings bred from Christ;

your name wasn't a mistake by your parents

it was given precise

Even John the Baptist was a poet.

Who spoke words making the masses honored to know a product of Bethlehem;

This verbal vernacular hit home in my dome,

from the Sunday my pastor asked me to write this poem.

So here on this stage I can stand before you,

providing a dose of hope damaged souls no longer need

wheelchairs to get around in;

original sin that cursed mankind can will no longer exist.

This is for the teachers & preachers that try to make sense of this.

May the lord continue to let me live to the point

as my guide to end negativity  bliss

bring joy to the world with prose that deserves a "10"

whether this piece is performed in a slam competition or church congregation!!

In the name of the father, son and the holy spirit, AMEN!!

-Honest Abe