From the Ship to the Soil Watching the pale hands throw dark figures down to Poseidon If our African gods have failed then maybe Zeus can bring back My wife, my daughter, my son But if black gods forsake us then will white gods hear our hearts Or send help? None of the above I heard of Noah’s ark and how the symbol was a dove But I see vultures – the sky sends no love No olive branch – just whips That strip and peel dark skin To reveal the same red blood that fuels the arm that guides the whip This thin layer of skin – is that it? If so I’d rather be beaten till my skin fades and be red than black Or fall prey to starvation and be dead than black The white clouds of the sky ignore us The dark earth is welcoming With every black beat of this red heart I am determined To die before I toil But what good is dying, when my reunion will be foiled When my family died at sea and I will be buried in the soil. -Allistair Ellis
Posted on: Fri, 02 Aug 2013 20:59:25 +0000
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