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 Africans
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A closed window looks down
On a courtyard, and black people
call across or scream across or walk across
defying physics in the stream of their will
Our world is full of sound
Our world is more lovely than anyone's
thou we suffer, and kill each other
and sometimes fail to walk the air
we are beautiful people
with African imaginations
full of masks and dances and swelling chants
with African eyes, and noses, and arms
though we sprawl in Grey chains in a place
full of winters, when what we want is the sun
we have been captured
brothers, and we labour
to make our getaway, into
the ancient image, into a new
correspondence with ourselves
and our black family. We read magic
now we need the spells, to rise up
return, destroy and create
What will be the sacred words
Immamu Barkat ( Leroi)
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ragaa makkawi
فيس بوك
تويتر
انستقرام
يوتيوب
بنتيريست