speak to her in yoruba, twi, swahili, sesarwa, setswana or shona.

she may not comprehend some,

but in all she will delight in a rhythm natural to her ear,

a movement instinctive to her tongue

and hopefully a reassurance that she has a home on the other side of the sea:

my sister is the soul in Africa’s golden daughters.

she has glistening brown eyes

like one who has stared at the earth for too long,

her nose is fantastically flat,

her lips are fabulously full

and every hair strand in her dreadlocks is twisted and locked just the way it ought,

her smile flashes bright and wide because home lives in her.

sister’s skin shines dark black,

her hands heal everything they touch

and her song echoes a revolution in the valley of my soul.

today, i won’t let her cast her head down just because of skin.

Heaven fell in love with her dark black before she knew dark black.

brown skin or dark skin, it is of God not shame.

in time, these foreign soils she trots will speak her name.

and today, sister’s going to shine that black and lift her chin, like a tarnished angel that just flicked the dust off her wing.

hmm..

it seems that the only good gestures that people make, or thoughts to which they lend a good word, are the things they have had to learn, acquire. acquire and consume unquestioningly, unquestioningly until the actions soothe, and words of the promise catch the air. kindness and generosity are never done out of self-will. what is self-will?

Just a Thought...

i suppose that the magnitude of humanity's plight (in our minds) correlates with its media coverage in this age (which correlates with resources/wealth.) the two are almost inextricably linked when i think of the heights of technological advancement we have reached and are still set to surpass.

but somehow i feel that the plight of the human condition is no worse than in centuries gone by, nor are the natural disasters more calamitous than before but we are just more aware of it due to technology.

... smile and let me see the gap between your teeth. turn around and let me see your calf muscles. OH MUKWANO!!

Bridges

Trust could never be in vain, as much as you are giving when you trust you are also fulfilling your own journey to learning to live in your skin.
A wise man once told me.

P O I S O N
*you don’t know how many times i told myself this can't do.

you're bad for me. i don’t see how something good could come from loving you.
the death of me must be your mission 'cause with every hug and kiss you’re snatching every bit of the strength that i’m gonna need to fight off the inevitable. you’re just like poison;
slowly moving through my system
breaking all of my defenses with time;
you’re just like poison.

what's the prognosis, how many doses am i needing now?
kiss me one more time before I die.

I would cut to let it drain into the stoppered sink. Half-full and then call them to pick me up from the crumpled heap I collapsed waiting.


"Hello. What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Waiting."