I
sing of
gaping
wounds
gaping
like
huge holes
in
the pavement
of
Old Piarco Road;
wounds raw and open;
new
wounds bleeding,
old
wounds festering.
Here,
we
fight a war with-
out
an enemy
like
the war on
poverty, AIDS,
drugs and crime
or
terrorism,
a
new kind of war with-
out
an enemy
except
the one with-
in
ourselves;
©2013
by G. Newton V. Chance
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older
than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy bosom turn
all golden in the sunset.
I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
by Langston Hughes
the poet writes the poem;
the reader gives it life
(© G. Newton V. Chance)
Make somebody happy (© Alexander Ligertwood & Carlos Santana)
No comments:
Post a Comment