Roger Mais

I do not know if it is Bra Man Or Black Lightening Missing from the curriculum Or it is that we do not teach about ourselves Beyond the superficiality of their apologetics Twisting identities out of shape, But I cannot find you in dream nor landscape And we are so young. We are too young to forget so many things new already Unless we prioritize For when the wound is heal the scab must go And I must see my flesh beautiful with hair again I must see you growing in our rain. For you were a tree That did not just take root and leach us dry You returned mulch again and again And gave this culture The most denied part of it Exposure to me look me in the eyes And left me owning with mild surprise. Brother man, let me tell you That was black lightning in the heart White darkness fled. ii He too knew it before What I tell you This is language you may dance You may write and carve But it is not to talk For talking sake. This language is the repository of culture ... He went inside searching bare cupboards And came out laughing with surfeit