I Am Old Enough To Dye
- November 2002
- 19 - The Anthology Of Woman
- 19 - Breathing Through The ...
- 19 - Prophesies Candles
- 19 - Nubians National ...
- 19 - Charity Have Mercy
- 19 - Dreams and Visions
- 19 - The Golden Cup Cries ...
- March 2003
- 12 - Man Who Hides From Truth
- 12 - Wisdom And Life
- April 2003
- 10 - Fear Not My Sons
- May 2003
- 08 - Cover Me with Scented ...
- 08 - The Lord Is My Shepard
- 08 - Poet after my death
- September 2003
- 25 - Tears I shed The Blood
- November 2003
- 20 - I Danced With God
- 20 - The Reason For The ...
- January 2004
- 15 - Confessions Of Love
- February 2004
- 13 - Baby Girl Save Your ...
- 13 - The Ten Commandments Of ...
- 13 - DEVELOPMENT OF WILL
- 13 - The Drawings Master ...
- January 2005
- 17 - The Women Warriors Are ...
- February 2005
- 23 - Darker Than The Door
- 23 - Author Jacqueline Amos
- March 2005
- 19 - Oh Black Mammy Strong ...
- 19 - Black Girl, Dont You ...
- April 2005
- 15 - Judge Me At The Bar Not ...
- 15 - The Talking Tree
- 15 - Old Man Locks Of Gray
- December 2007
- 22 - Confinment
Judge Me At The Bar Not On Earth
Through all the sorrow of the hailing light, the torch,
tearful moments of Songs, O, yea, O, yea, Ise nothing
without the spiritual light, breathes of blood, of the
saviors cross, de hope, mamas cry da night, my hope, da
sing a death song, to the lynching of da fate, --a faith
in the ultimate justice of the psalms black man. The
minor cadences of despair, the triumph sings in unison,
lord come by hear, I stand tall as a man, change often to
triumph, des calm confidence, I the psalms of black men.
Sometimes it is faith in life, sometimes a faith in death,
sometimes assurance of boundless justice in some fair
De lord judge my fate, judge me not on de earth, judge
me at the bar, of da lord. But whichever it is, the
meaning is always clear, and that the backward races, is
submission of de slave masters torture, of to-day are
often, proven inefficiency and not worth the saving. The
assessor to death.
Judge me at the bar of the lord. De the backward races
of to-day; darkness, cried at the fountain of blood, , men
will judge men by their souls and not by their skins. Is
such a hope justified? Judge me at de bar da lord. De
cries of my brudders who continue to search, lord da
handicap mind, da worked the dignity of man. Nor has de
gift of the Spirit been merely passive. given to this
nation in blood;
I walk through the churchyard, de spirit, cry out loud,
Ise not dead, the voices cry from the grave, I see the
blood of t he skies, I walk h moonlight, I de lay by the
soft rocked grave, Ise plead my case to the lord. I shall
lay my body down. Judge me at the bar not on earth.