I SAW IT THEN

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  • Devotion

    I SAW IT THEN

    I saw it then, I saw the mountain ran
    It was not a dream but in plain picture
    With bleeding blood gushing through its nose
    I saw the fruitful womb of the mountain
    Refuse to born pieces of rock
    I can see the tiny route where the fullboom light
    Shed into the mind of too dark cave
    There the earth fell beneath the leg
    Of moles, rock siblings then travelled to valley
    Where their decisive decision kept them under
    The blind sight of western desert

    I saw hill staggered like wrestler
    Who wants to break record of Tyson
    Beneath its abdomen a eye watching
    Around and across the sahara desert
    Where land blooms of dust and wirling sand
    Let the eye came down to my grassy roof
    And spy the gullible head and survellance on wrinkle toe
    Of bloods cry horrible choosen headas

    O! Africa savannah you filled the dam
    With fragrance saint of bitter odour
    You come and say along mind that flute
    Dramatic sound blared out of tropical organ
    I see the unity divides the nudity of slack black
    Who denied the swiftly race of difference races
    We are gentle like python, our breast wicked like cobra
    Who is that black man leant over the fence?
    Is he tried to check my attitude
    Or propelling my caurasal?

    I saw the black man coming out of black moon
    Setting later in the night of hood day
    He had filled up with coal dust
    Smelling like brew leaves
    And gradually clean without cleansing himself
    And eventually neat up like bright sky
    He was even a skybond
    As know one can tell who he was
    Then I know everyman is on equal tall
    No man bellow no man taller
    As one is one other is other
    So I want white cloth covers my black nude
    And my black nude covers by white towel
    As the hill that has eye
    Would fling me and watch the man
    With cruel face that can kill
    Those detractors that trail us

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    The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

    truedreams’s Poems (14)

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    WALKING STICK 0
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    TELL THE HENCH-MEN 0
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    I SAW IT THEN 0
    AFFECTING 0
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    THE CUNNING FATHER 0
    UNDER THE CROWN THORN 0
    YOUR NAME 0
    IN THE MIND OF MY MIND 0