My old pops was a missionary in liberia for more than 25 yers. He is 72 now and retired but stilll active there and is there at least once every year for UMC Annual Conference. I wrote this poem with him in heart. I never appreciated that missionary word when I wa small geh. It always had negative connotations. But I came to understand what it really means by living it and experiencing it from different perspectives. This is my perspective.

The Missionary’s Position
Monica Horton-Knuckles

The missionary’s position is peculiar in deed
devotedly hovering over the beloved souls,
for which salvation is deemed in need.

Methodical is the leverage that penetrates deep
within the indigenous core to uproot
and eradicate divergent ancestral beliefs.

For such might hinder the soul’s edification
and ultimately forestall its
divinely socio-economic elevation.

Precarious is the balance of the mindset of Christ
in fulfilling the intended mission without
the essence of the soul being sacrificed.

Inevitable is the germination of seeds of liberation.
Yet caution and clarification must be exercised
as said same seeds often birth tumult in a nation.

For there is no more heartrending nor ambiguous a position
than that of the lover of souls…forced to leave the beloved behind
in the precautionary commission of evacuating a mission.

Lemme come post my unna poem I wrote waaayy back in 1995

OUR LOVE

Our love is unique
It's not strong, it's not weak

When we first met
Nothing was really said
We just looked at each other
With a continuous stare........

Our love took us by surprise
You can't deny feeling the vibes
Our love is different
Sometimes we're hesitant
Often times we're resistant
Our love is bittersweet
Which makes my heart skip a beat
Our love is tragic
It could use some magic

What will become of our love?
It's losing its spark
But even if it enters the dark
There's one thing that'll always be true
And that is "Je t'aime" which means

I LOVE YOU!!!!

Honing the craft, the techniques of writing is something we can all learn. It is a growth process. But a masterful delivery of content that has the ablitity to move, to incite, to engender empathy...that is a gift... one I believe you possess. You are a diamond in the rough.

Once Upon A Time
MHKnuckles

Once upon an antebellum time
a new nation God chose to create,
from a remnant of Africa’s Diaspora
that he’d liberate then repatriate.

A noble conception
though bitter-sweet in reflection;
the indigenous population’s assimilation
of a kindred yet foreign infiltration.

Still…with blessings this “Land of Liberty” was crowned.
Infrastructure grew sound,
missionaries did abound,
and for a hundred years sweet peace could be found.

Yet amidst this blessed prosperity,
the heart’s of native sons grew explosively fraught
with the inequitable disparity between
those who had and those who had not.

Blinded by greed...the powers that be
did callous, self-serving, unscrupulous things.
The disenfranchised voice they foolishly ignored
as it wailed of injustices abhorred.

Contracts for unspeakable sacrifices
became merely one of many infamous devices
for securing ever so wickedly,
money, power and perpetual sovereignty.

But the ill-fated straw that broke the camel’s back
fell when the price of rice inflated to thirty bucks a sack.
Bush-man and market-woman took to the street
demanding to know how their families they’d feed.

Instead of answers, what the masses would receive
was a blood-splattered foretaste, no man would perceive,
as the hailing of an accursed and shameful decimation
of what was intended to be a peaceful and noble nation.

Leader after leader fell by the hand of the sword.
War after diamond fueled war came to no peaceable accord.
The very core of the republic’s foundation was tumultuously shaken.
Speculation flew that in divine retribution the people had been forsaken.

Though noted for exacting wrath upon the rebellious
the Almighty is renowned for and equally zealous
in renewing his grace as surely as the dawn.
Thus, his redemptive purposes he did spawn.

With the last despot having been smote,
the beleaguered citizens emerged to cast their vote
for the daughter of the soil dubbed, “ Iron Lady”…
exemplifying what the love of liberty can triumphantly achieve.

I think his idea is great. The love of liberty did brings us here...but not all of us. Some of us wa already here. It is time for a change that truly reflects the entirety of the people.

you know, it's late (4:02am)...just came from a party and still not wanting to sleep. I am not sure I will be around when the world is awake by then...lets see if he villagers would be in concordance with the uniting of us by the love of liberty. You could chair that Nica... I will join when my state of katzenjammer is no more.

ok then, peace, cheese, love, and chicken grease