My Summer A classes/Teaching schedule will officially end tomorrow: June 17. That explains why I have been grading essays all day. Nonetheless, I had to take a short break to meditate upon the possibility of black hope in the future world through the language of a poem. In the poem, I employ a number of metaphors and symbols associated with the heavenly hosts and natural phenomena to describe the black experience and voice my complaints to the moon, to whom I penned the letter in black ink, entitled “I Sent a Letter to the Moon.” Good night, folks!

“I Sent a Letter to the Moon”

Last night, I wrote a message to the moon with my black ink.
I sent a text to the four corners of the wind,
it has no end.
I spoke about a world with no sun,
a community absence of the stars
a city full of rough winters and summers
no spring to light the pace
the flowers die of a savage season.
children in homes sleep in tears.

Last night, I wrote a message to the moon with my black ink.
I offered up my parole about ten thousand fragments of despair,
notes that fill up the galaxies in blood
complaints that make the rainbow in the clouds hide.
I sent lilies in the heavenly high,
to be heard,
to reach life above.
I bent my heart to receive hope,
as the highest form of sacrifice.
Blinded by the beauty of the moon,
the angel of death gave access to the gates of light,
the angel of deception sat on the top of the heavenly ladder.
They led me to the Queen of heaven,
where freedom in black does not die.