Pensile clouds of a new Truth loom.
With them are selected versions of
Extinct grief.
Looking through the yellowness of a
Dog’s eyes, this aura of Truth, pervasive,
Sours my palate.
What say the bulletins and tabloids
In their speech potency?
Have they recoiled on the sudden encroachment
Of stale seas
Or have they rolled out drums for Haley’s ROOTS?
Between Kamby Bolongo of watery essence
And the forested, warm plains of Juffure, ROOTS!
And drums fashion themselves out for Kinte,
Who must tap gently the face of the drum
For earthly summons.
From sinuous, valleysome frontiers backward,
We yodel loud,
Fronting bands of ROOTS.
Eye candy of literacy
Sit with me under the poet tree
It's colorful leaves with windy wet dreams
Glowing growing holy wise sandy seas
Raining sonnets psalms songs of gold
Beige yesterday, neon now, future silver soul
Of foreign of home
Of saint sinner some other zone
This black leaf is Emily
So dark smart sharply bleak
The red leaf rouge and profound
As Alice Walker's words painting nouns
The blue leaf a jazzy ballet
Of sonnets haikus John Lennon's yesterday
The green leaf with promises of now
From music the ears of poetry sound
Alex Haley, Dr Seus, ancient poets and the new
Prophetic stars of heart and writer monsoon
Romantic rage roulette of moon
All are priceless jewels alone or in unity
All behold gifts of God, heart,soul, poet tree.
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