Kwanzaa (Poem)

As we cultivate the congradulations of the celebrations, the first fruit never posed so fresh.

And the air taste so sweet.

Where a watch isn’t needed to know it is the time of re-assessment.

The time of re-affirming.

And the time of reward.

A mirror made holiday coated with joy as we reflect on our african culture.

School’s could never promote the pride the way our seven principles express them.

Utilizing our unity to maintain and strive for what our people persue to protect what we take pride in.

We live our live’s lacking labels as we swim through this sea of self determination.

We name, create, and speak for ourselves.

We were born with tongues to explain there is no definition needed to define ourselves.

Proving our responsibilities through collective work with our fellow brother’s and sister’s.

As people, we process our problems together.
Spreading out our sibling’s situations until the solution is solved because our community cares.

Producing profit for our people through love and cooperative economics.

Constructing our businesses together with stores and shops sustaining stability from our support.

A way of preaching our purpose to restore our people back to our traditional greatness.

As we consume each other’s creativity.

Coming together as a community to counsel how to make it more amazing and beneficial than we inherited it.

And we finesse our future fuelled by faith.

Following all of our hearts in the righteousness and victory of our people’s struggle.

Proving how powerful the heart beat to our principles are.

We are blessed with unity as we show self determination with our collective work and responsibility.

Cooperative economics proves the purpose of our creativity and faith.

Exploiting all seven of these amazing principles through emotion from the twenty sixth of December to the first of January.

A calendar’s favorite time to be hung up.

A time to witness our kinara and seven candles learning each night by each light.

A time to celebrate the roots planted from our ancestors and blossomed through their african culture.

A time to let african music roam free over our ear drums.

A time to let our souls dance through our bones.

And a time for celebrating with story telling and eating from the success of livation.

-Ricky “Randum” Maeweather

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