im carrying bags
bags that carry written documents on paper
black ink white bodies carrying the written book of judgement
names of the holy dwelling we receive called heaven thats is only if the righteous accept the plans of the father
Father forgive the bodies that dwell in the trees
weve been uprooted from your dominion of great things
cut down into the matter where we may store greatness by letting them reap from our mistakes
bring us to nothingness
let the spindles of our hair be the veins of newer knowledge
God grant us the look
the vision to see what we do not see
live how we ought to live
for poverty awaits with bags
and i carry them
as a willful punishment
locs of dust
tattered rags of the unknown
foot embalmed in titanium
skin ash white
sleep called them to thier fate.
b.poetic
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