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RAKTAKARABI~ BLOOD OLEANDERS: From My Congolese Times… Towards The Light Of Liberation
I am her ‘Madaame’ Of Everything
ingrained in her rarity flashing ivory smiles
to her ever red rising simmering eyeful suns
in delicate armours of tearful hanging glistens
that she unfallibly holds within the kohl
black lashes that yearns to touch
skyhigh liberating flights
Yet, mellowed down rustic
earthen tones of perseverance
she heavily bears forevermore
as weighing down destiny.. in those
simplistic mellowly beaming rays
she sprightly blooms with…
her vivacious pagne’s striking
colours try vainly to digest in her aching
darkness complexions & deathly dark
pangs of generational oppressions
it surfaces as the dragging baritone
of her drowning in densifying voice that
further wants to scream aloud farther..
all those Manioc Cassava Fufu Dumplings
are almost the mimicking maniacal monotones
of a cheaply starchy carb food that are
the enforced staple of a povery-stricken
wartorn land .. miscreant(ly)~ (mis)designed
by plundering cartels & dictatorships in labels
of modern democracy... scrapping them of their
homely diamond gleams & mineral alchemy
of golden Love in an eternally galvanising
radioactive booming eternal spring fields..
Her, the force of Nature in the militarizing
language of power & arrogance & lies..
My passage through Her Elusive Darkness
feels an echoing motherly wombing depth
of an abyssal sanctum sanctorum.. in
labouring pains of her embryonic freedom
of a primordial sunning One ~ Singularity
conception
that no meddling divisive middle men of
dubious sophistications & but with inner~ spiralling
in heady~ toxic crowns of insane greediness
will ever succeed in their nefarious plotting
It’s Her Time. Ever Been . Then & Now & Forever.
its SHE, Births The Light of Truth. BRAVE NEW WORLD
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