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Muhammad A. Al Mahdi

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Member Since: Dec, 2004

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The Slave Ship
by Muhammad A. Al Mahdi

Monday, February 20, 2006
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by Muhammad A. Al Mahdi
•  Jerusalem (2014)
•  Variation on Suliko
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           >> View all 83

Underground


Deep and sound


Sound and depth


Deep


In the ground


 


In the ghostly fog


Of slave ships sunk


Glows the submarine sun


Of identities


Raped


And bastardised beauty


Sold


Betrayed


Defamed


Claims


Its name


And true descend


 


Caught in a suburban void


Like in a net


Baptized in foreign tongues


In the townships


Brought down to the lowest


It struggles


In the womb of slavish rebellion


To be born


 


Cruzified by the whip


In the Americas


Remoulded in the image


Of the conqueror


In Africa


And reborn as its caricature


Remade into shadowy sleeves


Of extinct memory


In Asia


And invaded to the blood


Kept in scientific ignorance


And deprived of all we are


Everywhere


Everywhere


Soul and mind burn


 


Creolised


Self-despised


By the herb


Tranquilised


Suffering in


The ancestral rhythm


Of wind and sea


Modernised


Under the cross


Crying out


For Ogun, Oya and Shango


On bone-white Antillian beaches


And in the sluggishly fast-sharp Carribeans


Suppressed and sanguine


Irrepressible hatred


Covered up


In vitality


 


O zest for life


And love of zest


A master forger


Cursed and blessed


You forge blindness


For yur own quest


And from the nights


The bird of passion


Ascends like a drunk tight rope walker


Clinging alertly


With albescent madness


To the bones of ancestral pain


Deep on the grounds of the sea


And just one step underneath


Rests the gold of Ife and Sheba


And in the midst of the darkness


And the tomb-stone-like dumbness


This bird of the stars


Pearl-diving and wandering the sea


Driven by divinity


Pronounces he words: Aztlan


And: Mandingo


And: The Golden Age


Half-aware of their meaning


And deeper than himself


And from bones, sea weed


And reef corals


The universe swings up its sigh


And its fulfillment's load


Enriched by the rebirth of longing:


Es possible que yo,


Subdito de Yaaqub Al Mansur


Muera como tuvieron que morir


Las rosas


y Aristoteles?

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Reviewed by Aberjhani 3/4/2006
Whereas certain crimes of history remain unspeakable by specific tongues, the souls of poets are obligated to have their say. And thus we have in these lines a refutation of useless denial and a reclamation of bitter truth made sweet by the reclaiming.
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 3/4/2006
A powerful message beautifully expressed, Mahdi. Thank you for sharing your gift. Love and peace to you,

Regis
Reviewed by E T Waldron 2/20/2006
A work of art. I understand the message, you have many points on your side. But there are two sides to the story...Beautiful work!

Eileen
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