White is the colour of heaven,
there are no black people in heaven.
They have sting strength of eel dirt
which heaven cannot accept.
Their black skins breed corruption,
there are no black people in heaven.
They have sting strength of eel dirt
which heaven cannot accept.
Their black skins breed corruption,
greed and
selfishness.
Black against white,
heaven quaked,
I
will not weep for their misfortunes;
dislodge their noble grits with fair
speed, I do not intend to bestir their sleep.
dislodge their noble grits with fair
speed, I do not intend to bestir their sleep.
Heaven has no street
for rotten bins
neither is there
places in heaven
where poor souls stop to urine on a pole
where children are
left to die of hunger and pains and the eyes behold
blood as water. There are no such places
in heaven. I only passed and was never
allowed to enter 'cause I'm Black.
Beneath this glazing memory, find no
solace like a dot of empty bassets.
where poor souls stop to urine on a pole
where children are
left to die of hunger and pains and the eyes behold
blood as water. There are no such places
in heaven. I only passed and was never
allowed to enter 'cause I'm Black.
Beneath this glazing memory, find no
solace like a dot of empty bassets.
Black tear-afflicted
eyes are uncertain,
never look an African in the eyes even God
lost words watching them glean with smile.
He could not pass judgment immensely,
brilliant gold beams His face as clouds
part their burnt spirits into tensed of gazing
men of deadly deception; black is beautiful,
Of a truth, Satan knew his people at heart.
He peeped from grey curtains for his furlong
and Michael firmament awoke weakness.
never look an African in the eyes even God
lost words watching them glean with smile.
He could not pass judgment immensely,
brilliant gold beams His face as clouds
part their burnt spirits into tensed of gazing
men of deadly deception; black is beautiful,
Of a truth, Satan knew his people at heart.
He peeped from grey curtains for his furlong
and Michael firmament awoke weakness.
The roads to heaven
are beautifully built,
Blacks won't be there because they are broken.
The walls of heaven are coated with gold,
Blacks won't be there, their hands grew
green into orchard of blood & dragons breathe.
With the entire gospel psalm in this land,
no single soul sing of black over there,
Sin over the soul of humanity, they seek.
Until light over shadows blackness over here,
spittle of warm blood won't cease in heaven.
If a black is allowed into the warm hands of heaven,
won't they bribe God?
Blacks won't be there because they are broken.
The walls of heaven are coated with gold,
Blacks won't be there, their hands grew
green into orchard of blood & dragons breathe.
With the entire gospel psalm in this land,
no single soul sing of black over there,
Sin over the soul of humanity, they seek.
Until light over shadows blackness over here,
spittle of warm blood won't cease in heaven.
If a black is allowed into the warm hands of heaven,
won't they bribe God?
Meet John Chizoba Vincent...
He's a cinematographer, poet and author several books which include, "Hard Times". His articles, poems and short stories have appeared on Turk Magazine and other online journals. Follow Vincent on Facebook.