on dying free

REGURGITATED 2

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on dying free

i prayed for an easy death,

so when life is agonizing

i know it ain’t time yet

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i salivate in my dreams

a thirst and lust to

exist in the seams i weave

~

i am the not the first trumpet,

the melody drones

and we groove on through our set

~

i smell of rue and hyssop,

decocting synergies

from a still-half-full cup

~

i felt it and you haven’t

internal echoes

touched, dragged, moved, mélanged and bent

~

i foresee the transition,

looking ahead now

through the eyes of my children

~

my senses without dissent,

dying for the relief

once the candle is spent

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AFTERWORD: Assata Olugbala Shakur. 1947 in Flushing, Queens. 2025 in Havana, Cuba. Some headlines — “fugitive Black militant” — “convicted revolutionary” — “activist turned refugee” — “the FBI’s most wanted domestic terr0r1st” — “cold-blooded c0p k1ll3r” — “Black Panther Party & Black Liberation Army member” — “Black icon who escaped US captivity” — “she who struggles” — “they who are grateful” — “God-mother” — “Poet” — on and on and on. i hope to earn half these titles, i hope to be remembered as half the woman Assata was, i hope to die right, i hope to die free, and most of all… i hope you enjoy!

SCORE: Natural Mystic — Bob Marley & The Wailers

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