Friday, October 7, 2011

Why I Have To Tell You About The Day I Died

I wrote this nine years ago on May 21, 2002

As the Spirit of God is upon me, the Spirit of God is telling me that it is time to write my books, it's time to write my poems, and it's time to keep on telling my story about the day I died.
Why oh why?  I say to myself, I keep thinking every day about the day I died.
I keep on remembering, I still see that day in my mind.
No matter where I go, when I lay down before I sleep, and when I wake up in the morning I can still remember and see the day I died.
It's just as plain today as it was on that day, March 23, 1979.
That's the date that I died.
Oh, I can never forget it.
I tell my friends, my family, even my enemies, everywhere I go, and everywhere I be.
I keep on talking about the day I died.
Oh, I know that they are tired of hearing me talk about that day, March 23, 1979, the day I died.
Oh, but after writing the poem Who Will Hear the Cries of a Child, who wants to know, I want the world to know, and who wants to hear about the day I died?
Why oh why?  I said to God.
Why must I keep on telling people each and every day, over and over again about the day I died?
Are they tired of hearing it or they don't want to believe it because I told the story about the day I died.
I was fired from my job, I was put in jail, I was lied on, and I was called everything but a child of God.  Some believed and some didn't believe.
Oh, I will always believe and thank God for the day I died.
I got to see what Kings haven't seen, I got to see what Priests haven't seen, I got to see what the Bishops are preaching about, and I've seen what the Pope hasn't seen.
Why?
Because I can talk about the day I died.
Oh, I thank God everyday for my Lord Jesus Christ.
Oh, Hallelujah.  Thank you.
I got to come back and tell my story about the day I died.
I said this morning, "God, why?"
Shall I write it in a poem, shall I write it in a book, or make a small story that people will read.
I hope and pray that they believe.
Then God spoke to me.  He said, "This is why you must tell it now.
Get it in a poem and get it in a book about the day you died".
I said, "Why?"
He said, "Because I'm tired.  I'm tired of seeing kids commit suicide.  I'm tired of seeing young men kill one another. I'm tired of seeing innocent people going to the death penalty for the crimes somebody else committed.  Oh please talk, tell it in a poem, or tell it in a book about the day that you died".
He said, "What really disturbed me and troubled me were those that claimed that they are my children.  Those that called by my name, the leaders that represented me, that molested children and doing sin before me day by day".
Oh, but he said, "It is finished".
Oh, my my my.
With All Power In His Hands, He Died for Me and He Died for You.
Jesus, is his name, and I'm not ashamed of Jesus' name.
I'm not ashamed.
I'll say it again.
Jesus is his name and I'm not ashamed.
Why oh why?  Because he died for me.
But, I'm here to tell you about the day I died.
Why do I have to tell you in a poem or in a book?  Because God told me.
But when some priests was caught committing sins, they committed suicide.
Suicide is wrong.
Killing is wrong.
This is why I have to tell you about the day I died.
Yes, I was put in jail.
Yes, I was fired from my job.
Yes, I was sent to a federal prison in Butler, North Carolina.
 I sat before ten or more psychiatrists.  They wanted to know about the day I died.  They wanted to hear but they wanted to say that I was crazy.  They wanted to say that I had a delusion.  But, I'm here to say that I will never deny the day I died.  I know you want to know what did I see on the day I died. 
I want you to know that after death, comes the judgment.
You have a soul and you have a spiritual body.
With the breath you breathe; God can see you, know what you think, and know what you are doing just by the breath you breathe.
How I know because I died on March 23, 1979.
Here it is now, May 2002.
Hallelujah.
It's May 21, 2002, and I'm still talking about the day I died.
But, I'll be back to tell you this story because I want my brothers and my sisters to know, no matter what race you are, and no matter what color you are to know that after you die, comes the judgment.
I know and I can tell you about the day I died.
Oh, please I beg you and I cry unto you.
Look at the sky.  Oh, how beautiful the sky is.
Look at the ocean.  Oh, how powerful the ocean is.
Oh, take your time and think about your life.
Think about if you commit suicide that there is nothing in life that bad that you will have to commit suicide.
Because there is a point when all men have to die.
After death, comes the judgment.
Believe me, I'm telling you the truth about the day I died.
Oh, I'll be back to tell you more about what my soul seen on the day I died.
Because God said to my soul, "My will, will be my will".
So, it's God's will that I tell you today about the day I died.
So, don't commit suicide, quit killing your brothers, love your families, love your friends, look around you, and thank God that you are breathing the breath.  With this breath, he can see you and he can hear you.
So, please hear me about the day I died.
I'm writing it in a poem, and I'm going to tell it in a book.
I hope before God that you believe that there is life after death.  After death, comes the judgment.
You'll see, there's a God and you will meet him in your spiritual body when you die.
Oh, the flesh don't fear God nor can it be subject to God.
So, that's why we toss to and fold with sins in our life and confusion.
Oh, whether I stand, whether I fall, or whether I die again, I want you to know that I'm going to tell you the story about the day I died.
Because it was the anointing by God that I wrote the poem Who Will Hear the Cries of a Child.  It's time for me to tell you about the day I died.
I'll be back to tell you what I've seen on the day I died.

House of Prayer and Community Workshop
P.O. Box 11703
Charleston, WV 25339
or
hop2communws@gmail.com

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