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An Invocation of the Smoke King

I am the smoke king, I am black.  I am swinging in the sky. ~ Excerpt from The Song of the Smoke by W.E.B. DuBois

We speak
the invocation
of the smoke king.

We seek
your skulking
to present
a message
of the burning
now held
near our heart.

We call down
your soot
soaking black
master of
crushing every
organic element
to a pitch perfect
color carbon.

We prostrate
before your
we require
fire starting.

Our ancestors
from riches
to wretches
flaming heat
the hearth of
a nation for
three quarters
a century
in pursuit
of some
of justice.

How can
Liberty Lady
still cast
her matches
so wreckless?

We invoke
this king of smoke
to clear the air
no longer expecting
law to protect us.

Thus we cast
a careless flare
in your name
near powder kegs
which Malcolm
intent upon
a nation knowing
this black veil
of suffocation
we’ve suffered.

Collect only
those possessions
you value
most precious.

Then leave
this house
to be digested
by the choking
of its own
infernal creation.

Leave it to be taken
by the smoke king,
burning black.

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Posted by on September 23, 2011.

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Categories: writinglife

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About The Literate Epoch

The AOMuse is the literary alter ego of declassified double agent Michael Strode who finds ease and pleasure in reviewing books, writing poetry, increasing the humanity of the world through artistic and literary engagement and debriefing the political zeitgeist of the present era. At the Literate Epoch, you will find these mental meanderings and episodic […]more →
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