Tell Us, You Say

Tell us, you say, in your profound complexity Prophet, griot, artist, word maker Why do you litter our hearts with song? I do not write for the crowd in Dubai For the poetaster and rhyme maker I write for the discriminating eye The unweaver of magic images, breaker Of spells, and wonderment of the child. It will read a poem and understand The archtecture of history is better built And when the books are all torn up And tradition of lies is unveiled in the night The masses will come candleness And light a upon a page and find light. I write to rage In paradigmal shifts against the loss of things Including the plucking of my own wings. And sometimes in my rage I sing And sweet the tongue to sing along Thinking of freedom as we die ... without a song.