It’s said… “Mother is the word for God on the lips of all children. “….and while a little girl called upon with hope in her heart that this diety who’s love and attention she lives for would answer, the mother sat on the tub’s edge in thier dirty bathroom with the door locked with her new boyfriend, lighting up a bic lighter under a glass pipe and slowly moving it in circles… ” Mommy! “…Mommy! “…. Said the little voice from behind the door. The unanswered prayers of “the most innocent”… This is who I pray for..

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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