Showing posts with label belly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label belly. Show all posts
.
Strong Hands of
Mother Africa
.
By J. Joy Matthews Alford
Strong hands of Mother Africa
Awaken places deep inside me
Where my ancestors dwell
Like distant echoes, your heart-beat
Reverberates off Kilimanjaro’s mountain-tops
Pulses down the Nile
Crosses the Sudan
And flows into my soul
Strong hands of Mother Africa
Call my absent spirit
To return and commune with the elders
Those who sojourned before me
Now light my path and
Await my homecoming
Strong hands of Mother Africa
Reveal to me my history
Teach me the ways of my true homeland;
Unmask the mysteries and tragedies
Of this altered consciousness
Awaken in my mind and body
The un-ripened seeds of truth,
Power, and pride
Solve for me the paradox of my mortality.
Strong hands of Mother Africa
My soul dances to your ancient rhythm
Pulsing, ever pulsing, through the veins of time
Teach me to beat Africa drums
So that I, too, may guide
Another absent spirit to your shores
So that I, too may guide another absent spirit
Home!
(The poem appeared on : authorsden.com)
Mother Africa
.
By J. Joy Matthews Alford
Strong hands of Mother Africa
Awaken places deep inside me
Where my ancestors dwell
Like distant echoes, your heart-beat
Reverberates off Kilimanjaro’s mountain-tops
Pulses down the Nile
Crosses the Sudan
And flows into my soul
Strong hands of Mother Africa
Call my absent spirit
To return and commune with the elders
Those who sojourned before me
Now light my path and
Await my homecoming
Strong hands of Mother Africa
Reveal to me my history
Teach me the ways of my true homeland;
Unmask the mysteries and tragedies
Of this altered consciousness
Awaken in my mind and body
The un-ripened seeds of truth,
Power, and pride
Solve for me the paradox of my mortality.
Strong hands of Mother Africa
My soul dances to your ancient rhythm
Pulsing, ever pulsing, through the veins of time
Teach me to beat Africa drums
So that I, too, may guide
Another absent spirit to your shores
So that I, too may guide another absent spirit
Home!
(The poem appeared on : authorsden.com)
.
My Mother's
Womb
.
Womb
.
.
Before I Knocked
.
By Dylan Thomas (*)
Before I knocked and flesh let enter,
With liquid hands tapped on the womb,
I who was as shapeless as the water
That shaped the Jordan near my home
Was brother to Mnetha's daughter
And sister to the fathering worm.
I who was deaf to spring and summer,
Who knew not sun nor moon by name,
Felt thud beneath my flesh's armour,
As yet was in a molten form
The leaden stars, the rainy hammer
Swung by my father from his dome.
I knew the message of the winter,
The darted hail, the childish snow,
And the wind was my sister suitor;
Wind in me leaped, the hellborn dew;
My veins flowed with the Eastern weather;
Ungotten I knew night and day.
As yet ungotten, I did suffer;
The rack of dreams my lily bones
Did twist into a living cipher,
And flesh was snipped to cross the lines
Of gallow crosses on the liver
And brambles in the wringing brains.
My throat knew thirst before the structure
Of skin and vein around the well
Where words and water make a mixture
Unfailing till the blood runs foul;
My heart knew love, my belly hunger;
I smelt the maggot in my stool.
And time cast forth my mortal creature
To drift or drown upon the seas
Acquainted with the salt adventure
Of tides that never touch the shores.
I who was rich was made the richer
By sipping at the vine of days.
I, born of flesh and ghost, was neither
A ghost nor man, but mortal ghost.
And I was struck down by death's feather.
I was a mortal to the last
Long breath that carried to my father
The message of his dying christ.
You who bow down at cross and altar,
Remember me and pity Him
Who took my flesh and bone for armour
And doublecrossed my mother's womb.
Before I Knocked
.
By Dylan Thomas (*)
Before I knocked and flesh let enter,
With liquid hands tapped on the womb,
I who was as shapeless as the water
That shaped the Jordan near my home
Was brother to Mnetha's daughter
And sister to the fathering worm.
I who was deaf to spring and summer,
Who knew not sun nor moon by name,
Felt thud beneath my flesh's armour,
As yet was in a molten form
The leaden stars, the rainy hammer
Swung by my father from his dome.
I knew the message of the winter,
The darted hail, the childish snow,
And the wind was my sister suitor;
Wind in me leaped, the hellborn dew;
My veins flowed with the Eastern weather;
Ungotten I knew night and day.
As yet ungotten, I did suffer;
The rack of dreams my lily bones
Did twist into a living cipher,
And flesh was snipped to cross the lines
Of gallow crosses on the liver
And brambles in the wringing brains.
My throat knew thirst before the structure
Of skin and vein around the well
Where words and water make a mixture
Unfailing till the blood runs foul;
My heart knew love, my belly hunger;
I smelt the maggot in my stool.
And time cast forth my mortal creature
To drift or drown upon the seas
Acquainted with the salt adventure
Of tides that never touch the shores.
I who was rich was made the richer
By sipping at the vine of days.
I, born of flesh and ghost, was neither
A ghost nor man, but mortal ghost.
And I was struck down by death's feather.
I was a mortal to the last
Long breath that carried to my father
The message of his dying christ.
You who bow down at cross and altar,
Remember me and pity Him
Who took my flesh and bone for armour
And doublecrossed my mother's womb.
.
(*) Dylan Marlais Thomas (1914 - 1953) was a Welsh poet. He is regarded by many as one of the 20th century's most influential poets. In addition to poetry, Thomas also wrote short stories and scripts for film and radio, with the latter frequently performed by Thomas himself. His public readings, particularly in America, won him great acclaim; his booming, at times ostentatious, voice with a subtle Welsh lilt, became almost as famous as his works. Read more.
------------------
--> The poem appeared on bryantmcgill.com
PS : This is a watercolour study (life drawing) made at the Académie Royale des Beaux Arts de Bruxelles.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)