The sutures that were ruggedly stitched, forcing shut my mouth and imprisoning my tongue by the devil’s hand himself, so that my imploring screams could never be heard, save in my own head, have finally snapped open!!! I’ve found my voice!…the comprehensibly expressive and audible face of my personality…silent for so long…the king of my ability to even utter a sound enclosed in the moist darkness between and behind my idle jaw bones. Thank God for the tongue, the teeth, and the voice box!!!… Our distinction from the mute beasts of the field…intelligible and articulated speech!

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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