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205 Anthem of the Black poet Mbizo Chirasha The succulent breast of mother Africa oozes with the milk of black renaissance the rich womb of Africa germinates seeds of black consciousness the black blood bubbles with identity of Africanness the sweat of my brows flows with the revolutions from slavery to independence I am the black poet I am the black poet black valleys bloom with flowers of nehandaness African horizons shine with the rays of nkurumahness black streets coloured with rainbows of mandelaness black spears sharpened with the conscience of bikoness I am the black poet I sing of black culture bleaching in oceans of coca cola I sing of black culture fried in cauldrons of floridization I sing of black culture gambled in the dark streets of sunset hills I sing of black culture burning in computer ages I am the black poet I sing of kings and their people I sing of black kings and their people I sing of the dead souls of black history I sing of the rising spirits of black renaissance I sing of the rising souls of black consciousness I sing for the rising spirits of pan-Africanness I am the stone you left for the dead I am the tree bark oozing with the blood of age I am the riverbed flowing with the mucus of age I am the affidavit of black empowerment that requires your stamp I am the title deed of black emancipation that needs your signature I am the memorandum of black reparations that needs your fingerprint I am the certificate of black repatriation that needs your identity card I am the stone you left for the dead 206 I am the tree bark oozing with the blood of age I am the riverbed flowing with the mucus of age my mind is a drainage pipe pumping out acids of mental suppression my mind is a drainage pipe pumping out cyanides of racial discrimination my mind is a drainage pipe pumping nitrates of economic dispossession I am the stone you left for the dead I am the tree bark oozing with the blood of age I am the riverbed flowing with the mucus of age my gun is the rose of our freedom my bullet is the nectar of our reconciliation my bomb is the petal of our democracy my gun is our 1980 celebrations my bullet is our 1987 political revision I am the stone you left for the dead I am the tree bark oozing with the blood of age I am the riverbed flowing with the mucus of age is abortion a solution to overpopulation is demolition a solution to pollution is corruption a shortcut to poverty reduction is Balkanization a shortcut to colonisation is condomization a shortcut to HIV mitigation HIV/AIDS has become a business an import and export product like Coca-Cola in America and Nokia in Berlin I am the stone you left for the dead I am the tree bark oozing with the blood of age I am the riverbed flowing with the mucus of age. ...

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Additional Information

ISBN
9780797496989
Related ISBN
9780797486164
MARC Record
OCLC
1056749179
Pages
300
Launched on MUSE
2018-10-14
Language
English
Open Access
No
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