Poetry

Keep In Your Heart The Blood

Remember always the glory days,
the dances, the songs, the chants, the rituals, the customs,
the people.

Remember times in beautiful Africa, your people.
From green forests, golden deserts, to the deepest, darkest regions
of Congo and Virunga.

Hear, here in this land.

Hear always in your heart the beating of drums,
the ancient customs of the Kagani.

Remember always the kings and queens,
Tutankhamen, Cleopatra.

But do not sit and not remember the dark days.
Keep In Your Heart The Blood.

Blood spilled by those who fought for freedom.
The blood of the slave as the whip touches the flesh.

Do not be enslaved, be now empowered.
Feel it, taste it, drink it.

Gather it in buckets, bathe in it.
Bathe your children in it

Keep In Your Heart The Blood

From Africa’s heart, we rose

Already a people, our faces ebon, our bodies lean,

We rose

Skills of art, life, beauty and family
Crushed by forces we knew nothing of, we rose

Survive we must, we did,
We rose

We rose to be you, we rose to be me,
Above everything expected, we rose

To become the knowledge we never knew,
We rose

Dream, we did
Act we must