We hide in shadows, under the 
wings of a peacock.
How interesting it’s to value
nothing, even ourselves.
The colour, silhouette,  fades  before
our very eyes; like the dying flame of 
a candle.
As we walk, work with mixed faces
on the wall of peafowls,
a phrase stares at us, stirs our
peace;  reminds
us of the colour we wear
“Black monkies,descendants of 
when we reflect our locus on the
we  imagine a tulip shedding
petals in disgust,
a drone bringing pollen to a rose-
The freer we become,  more imprisoned 
We drink vinegar as breakfast,
receive whips for dinner.
No free bird leaps on the back of
and dares to claim the sky.
It can only see through its bars 
of rage 
with  the pinprick of a riffle
In this hoosegow we are gulping 
air void of hope for a coon’s age.
With clipped wings, tied feet,
we open the throat to chant a trill,
a lyric of solidarity.
Freedom!Freedom!! Freedom!!!
We wish that this quaver ascended
the alps
like  echoes of victory in battle .
Hope it shan’t end in a bad 
We stand in the grave of dreams
with umbrae that ululates in a nightmare
shuttles in a tossing loom of history.
The blackship ,  a baddie on the
books  beguiles.
They sail through thrashing flames
towards Africa’s lucent, 
behold,  a hord of  mockers ashore 
with  crunching coins for exchange.
Hope melts apace, a voyage onto 
living looks with human eyes like 
suffering accuse us,
whose hatred reaches through the
swill of dark to strike us like 
the leper’s claw.
The earth dies for social injustice.
The truth although bitter, i must
 Nazi,  you may write me down in history
 with your bitter, twisted lies,
you may tread me in the mire;
but still,  in the very sludge, 
like dust i’ll rise.


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