When I was four years old ...

Jesus spoke to me as clearly as possible.  " Little one your life is going to be rugged.  But don't you ever worry, I will be with you. I will never leave you. "  I was so amazed I told my mother,  Mathy Jane immediately.  She paid me no attention.

Yes, my life was horrid.  I'm laughing , because I blamed it on being black.  My mother taught me that I was cursed.  Not only was I cursed, I was crow black and a BLACK BASTARD! That I wasn't shit and I was never going to be shit.  I did everything I could to prove her wrong.

Thinks happened.  I took her abuse daily, long distance.  Then one day she mailed me a letter , cussed me out, then wiped her nasty behind in it.  That was it! I was through .  One brother had been gone, left no forwarding address.

When I was forty-six GOD sent me back to my evil mother, told me to forgive hr, to love her, to show her kindness.  I did.  My mother betrayed me , betrayed me savagely.  Was so cool, so covert, I would have never caught on.

Don't you know GOD sent that "boy" back after twenty-five years!  The plot thickens.  I found out some things!  Some things that will curl your hair! Some truth that few can bear.  Believe me, MURDERING her own daddy, is not the worse this heifer ever did! 

DO NOT ! PLEASE DO NOT EVER PRACTICE WITCHCRAFT!  Martha Jane Walters dabbled in WITCHCRAFT  and got MESSED UP!

Oh yes, GOD's Divine Order is real.  My devious conniving mother tricked me out of Graduate School (SUNY-Binghampton) .  I ended up attending Atlanta University on a fellowship .  Guess what I discovered? Forty-eight volumes of slave narratives.  The George P. Rawick Slave Narratives and the WPA Slave Narratives.  You know I read everyone of them! I am an avid, voracious  reader as a result of cruel and unusual punishment inflicted upon me by my "root working" mother.

Guess what most of those slaves talked about?  Voodoo, hoodoo, "root working".    "What am seen can't be denied." 

Yes, she along with another buzzard destroyed my master's thesis and every other manuscript I was attempting to publish.  But, my master's thesis lives on in my head.  You do not spend hours upon hours in a library searching for knowledge, then forget it.

My master's thesis revealed my mother, explained her.  The prognosis is bad.  Blacks have always used conjure. Brought that shit here from Africa, mixed it with Catholicism.  Oh, it is real, it involves science, bladders from blowfish, powdered poisons from snakes, etc.      Perhaps it is a good thing those two buzzards destroyed it.  I foolishly revealed too much, far too much information.  Sadly the slaves only used it on each other,  rarely on a  white man, never their oppressor.   

I'm grinning, I'm leaping, I'm praising GOD for (HIS) Divine Order, (HIS) perfect timing.

"Won't (HE) do it!?"