Thursday, September 11, 2008

Diaspora Poetry: Rio, Salvador (Brazil)

alchemy |ˈalkəmē|

i have sought
the secret ways
of turning water to wine,
iron to gold.

i found charred rust instead. Red and
hot to touch.

i should have stopped to breathe
Yemaya and Erzulie
through both nostrils.

i tap my veins for
the clutch and cluster of breaks
and war dances;
i pepper the cracks of whips,
a horizon blackened by ships, onto formulas washed invisible
in the blood
of slaves.

yesterday, i spun on the accent.

today, technicolor drumbeats shiver,
but the clenched hands don’t fit.

it still feels right.

i'm not feeling like this poem is finished. but im posting it anyway. i will probably add a new one soon. feel free to sound off on it.

friendly reminder: this, like anything on this blog, is Creative Commons protected. don't make me get gangsta on you!

1 comment:

Puff said...

"It still feels right."