December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

SPIRITS UNCHAINED by Keorapetse Kgositsile.

Rhythm it is we
walk to against the evil
of monsters who try to kill the Spirit
It is the power of this song
that colors our every act
as we move from the oppressor-made gutter

Gut it is will move us from the gutter
It is the rhythm of guts
blood-black, granite hard
and flowing like the river or the mountains

It is the rhythm of the unchained Spirit
will put fire in our hands
to blaze our way
to clarity to power
to the rebirth of real men……
Copyright 1971, reprinted by permission of Broadside Press

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

I see them Puerto Ricans/Spanish niggers Bronzed farmers look silly being doormen Their fingers are more honest than their eyes. Earth hands turned metallic gray The plow rots, the mule dies, the hands rust And... YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A SPANISH COLORED KID by Felipe Luciano.
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