Marvin X on his star student
Dr. Ayodele Nzinga
Yes, she is the very best of us, a mother, genius in our midst. We have to own her otherwise "they" shall claim her as their chattel real, personal property.
We can get sucked into their white hole and before we know it we are in too deep. Baraka suffered from this artistic schizophrenia, trying to please two worlds but at his best, in his last days, he belonged to us and came to speak our language rather than theirs! He warned us against listening to the Sirens calling us to their island with their enticing sounds. Yes, Mama Ayanna, we must protect Ayodele as our treasure, warrior woman, artistic freedom fighter supreme. Yes, perhaps she learned verbosity from her Master Teacher, but she may also learn his lesson of silencia por favor.
North American African Poet
i am a poet
language and ideas
are my meat & bread
the eye a tool
that captures the light spilling
on to the fully dressed fig tree
the flight of birds
the wind over the grass
the pain in a mothers eyes
the hunger in a childs
the anger in a mans
i listen for the meaning behind the words
waiting for the truth
like an off schedule bus
reflecting reflecting reflecting
like a mirror the
things that pass
through me living with the things
that will not pass away
but cling stubbornly to life
myths that crumble when examined
lies manifest to protect the guilty
the unevenly cut pie
the wolves selling merry-go-round tickets
law in the land of the lawless
the ugly secrets bandaged by
a flag and an anthem
living in the nation
buried deep within the nation
there is another rhythm
a steady rising wave
another drum beating
real reality lives here
not the story in books
funky non commercial real
realness is Africans dancing
in front of the white house
demanding freedom and the american
way come out to talk
its telling the truth no matter
what it sounds like
or what they want to hear
its not caring when they see
you point the zombie finger &
make that high-pitched squeak
that denotes they have noticed
you are awake traveling in stealth
with the sheep when wolves smell
lions and guerrillas they panic
cause they are unruly
refused to be ruled by wolves
won’t ape the story
on the news they are noisy
hard to control and known
for waking sheep i like lions
& apes
& sheep that are
awake so for them
i tell the truth
i write the songs
& the eulogies
explain the difference
between what is &
what needs to be
i am their poet
eating their pain
carrying it inside
trying to transform it into
food for the battle
bandaging the wounds
sucking out the poison
outing wolves
urging them to move forward fearlessly
i am the drum beating inviting the dance
i am the drum beating calling the dancer
i am the drum beating
i am the drum