Time flies through these moments
Never tell me what year it is
This bliss, sweet
rings so true
Tag Archives: Africa
In Case You Forgot
The makings of a supreme
Equals extreme conditioning
Empowered and confident
Black boy
Like a tug of war
Your face, snatched
Your pain, drank
Your death, sang
Your glow, rinsed
Extreme resilience, I must say
Micro waved out from the gutters
Envisioned
Predicted,
like the messiah
You are the clock
that keeps all ticking
You are the currency
that pulsates the market
From the turn of the southern belt
To the western lagoon of Lasgidi
You are the sun
From you, life exists
Light of the Land
What is heaven to you?
When you close your eyes?
What do you see?
I see peace in colors
I feel the breeze
I know God is speaking
Like the old Gold Coast
Nomads settled
In tribal beads
Future unknown
Yet praises touching the sky
Underneath, earth awakened early
Far from carnality
Technology in trees and birds
The sun telling time
Huts forming circle
Fire only a tool
Seeds sowing
Children harvesting
A heaven always close to my heart
Simple Moments // Addis Ababa Origins (i)
At night
Words come out easier
Hence, let me paint a moment
A sunny afternoon, it was
Stomach rumbling
Hunger, probably
No, definitely
Fast food or local grub?
Some ribs for the soul
Not vegan?
Personally, mentally
not there yet
Sitting there outside, beneath the shade
Munching like I’d smoked some green
Maybe?
Who knows?
Only I, of course
Reeling forward
Bite after bite, cave man style
Mango juice drinking, getting full
Spring season, sprinting by
There, caught in that second,
I see her, sight her
Her scent?
Too far, she was
Her, waiting for the 67 bus
Standing there, someone I must now
Her skin furnace shining,
Her beauty diamond demanding
Goddess, she is
Go talk to her?
What?
Me?
Yes!
We, my mind replies
Two minutes of gathering courage
Cleaned my act, face wiped away cowardice
Standing up, her view in front
Gradually, I pick up pace
The closer I approach
The further back my words run away
Up close now,
Lavender, subtle scent
Natural spring, somewhere in Addis Ababa
Shea butter, her scent I mean
She turns, my heart stops
Her eyes piercing mine, curious
Words
Words, where at thou?
Staring, she keeps
You hungry? I manage
What? She stares puzzled
Jesu Christi!
Yeah lunch, you hungry? I persevere
For a second,
her face brightens
Will you go away afterwards? She asks
Yes, I will definitely go away into space after a moment with you
More sunshine, her glow brightening………
Yeah at night
These simple moments come to mind faster
Although morning comes by rising, bird whistling
Another night,
Continuation maybe?
Belly of the Beast
African tales painted into motion canvasses
Black, red and bleak
Poverty, war and famine: usual suspects
all compacted into one long stretched out scene
Though,
I must yarn these swing reels
all ring out: hollow vessels
When surrounding a table,
under moonlit nights,
crime acts commenced
greedy monkeys and neck stretching ostriches sit and devise: revising.
Plans; schemes of
dividing the people’s wealth
hiding the people’s future
wringing puppets for decorated leaders
deep pockets, devil smiles:
going far beyond yonder
Their eyes full and brim with deceit
All staged, perfectly primed for a proper western lens
Though, somehow always missed by the Favreau’s
Yes, I gats yarn
Man must yarn
The world has moved, the jungle too
Black suited, the lions still roam and rule: white teeth glaring, baring
The world has picked up pace, the jungle also
Yet, we of the Africa lands are trapped,
held hostage to only show side-face: our death first
Black Inferno
Every one trying to touch the sun
Forgetting we are of the sun
Us: children of the black star
Gold skin holding diamond hearts
Pretoria Hill
I have looked in all the corners
of the world
hoping to see light
My ways always leading to no result.
Thinking I was lost to never
finding a reasoned path
To my home I returned: faithless
On the third day of the rising
When the sun had balanced
I walked up the hills, birds all around
Amidst the flowing clouds
There a tree rested
Its roots deeply intertwined with the soil
In its presence
I felt like a boy again
A child playing with the day
Knowing the night was for sleep
There the tree rested
My eyes with awakening saw
My soul with peace shined
Along with the flowers,
the wind moving from the south
brought me fresh warmth.
A warmth I could only dream of
There the tree rested
And there my life’s tale was retold
rooted strong with the sound of quiescence
I am here
I am here, said I
I have flown across the seas
Journeyed long for mercy
Across the borders and cliffs
Here I am, said I
Here with the flowers of life
Renewed with the rising of the sun
I am here
For where I land is where I am
Battle Cries of Lost Dogs
Dog tags of lost ones
Laying eternal in this
sand storm called Sahara
Buried tears, heated bones
As the wind blows high
Hear the dead howl back words
Revenge on their tongues
As they walk back on sand
“There is war,” they cry
“There is a war going on”
Cartoon and Cereal
“I woke up in the sitting room
Embodied in the frame of a child
Mind locked, eyes barely shifting
Looking at the TV with my lunch
Jumping with the looney tune on screen
Going wild, mind going berserk”
“Coyote!! Coyote!! Coyote!!” shouts the farm- boy
“Here comes those eyes that seek death
How many times can one die and not die?
Still this beast, this predator
Has forty lives, like a ghost
He keeps coming back
Running through the streets
With a grenade in hand
Seeking to break the neck of the sneaky one
But every time, the same ending awaited him”
“Running coyote, wilding coyote,
Why do you keep going on?” the farm boy asks
“Come to this place,” the coyote replies
“This place, this rat piece of shit keeps sending me to
Come see the hell that reigns here
Come see the blood of people that smears here
Thirst dripping in the eyes of the lost souls
Their tongues cut, controlled by the fork
Licking the sweat off the succubus
Their young ones recycled, their minds come out ‘loose’
Bottom of the food chain; these people of the jungle
Their teeth blended alongside death
So ask me again why I seek freedom,” says the running coyote
“Ask me again, and I may very well lick your bones dry, dear farm boy”
Third World Power
The place now called wastelands
by the those that hold wall streets
That place that birthed my soul
holds the only freedom I know of
Journeyed to the west, my name on free debts
Just by trying to live normal
The only option is to get rich, they say
Play around, connive and back stab
Free me judge,for in due time
My footprints will be back
on the soil of freedom
Third world? they ask
Mother Earth, I know
SIMPLE WORLD 