"Where the head goes, the body will follow."
Ears are the eyes on the sides of our heads.
Atoning for what behooves us, our minds will be fed.
Our memory lives here, enclosed by apostrophe sticks.
When the heartbeat is in sync, our eardrums become fixed.
Like a musical note drumming out for fun.
Most times, forgetting our blessings be done.
But, as we walked through the halls,
Our destiny calls.
Addiction is not fiction.
It's an acronym for 'prediction'.
Where some are born addicted to sanity.
Others with a derelict afflicted for profanity.
As words of the Feather.
Will always flock together.
My poetic thoughts are not an-ant-ant-anti-antibiotic.
Just the distant cousin of the paralyzing narcotic.
Which doesn't eliminate alcohol at all.
For drinking to infinity, you surely will fall.
While moderation of all things accelerates walking tall.
Communication and facilitation will benefit us all.
To some, this is a horse pill, hard to swallow.
But! "Where the head goes, the body will follow."
Henry Lee Faulkner NCC USN Ret.
Guidance Against the Odds ©2016
Phillis Wheatley
1753 – December 5, 1784), was an author who is
considered the first African American author
of a published book of poetry. Born in West Africa.
Phillis Wheatley, ‘To the Right Honorable William, Earl of Dartmouth’.
No more, America, in mournful strain
Of wrongs, and grievance unrepressed complain,
No longer shalt thou dread the iron chain,
Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand
Had made, and with it meant t’ enslave the land.
Wheatley’s poems show, there is a long history of African American poets writing about slavery. The poem was written in 1860, on the eve of the American Civil War, and sees an abolitionist expressing sympathy for the slave’s plight:
Slavery, O Slavery! I cannot conceive
Why judges and magistrates do not relieve
My down-trodden people from under thy hand,
Restore them their freedom, and give them their land …
