I once heard a poet.
Speak with languid tones,
Jazz verses of African Pride.
She was a woman,
"A black ocean" and...
Her words were powerful,
Set against the backdrop
Of a smooth and quiet voice.
She murmered such intensity that
I resented that I was not near her.
Wishing to sit at her feet as she spoke,
Words as tall as the African Sky...
But far more beautiful.
A friend of mine mentioned Maya Angelou the other day which lead me to post this poem. A tribute to the voice of African Poetry. I would love to hear what everyone thinks.
1 comment:
I just finished "reading" "A Song Flung Up to Heaven." Or more accurately, I just finished listening to it on cd, as recorded by the author. Somehow this was more magical, as if this incredible woman was sitting beside me in my little red Geo Prizm during my morning commute. What an amazing soul--friend of Malcom X, friend of MLK, and a friend to anyone who loves justice, language, and freedom. Here's to you, Dr. Angelou. Come on over. Sit with us. Let us learn from you. And drink a cup of coffee.
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