When all of a sudden we can no longer hear the voices that once kept us alive and gave us a sense of human presence, we begin to notice the missing parts of us that once was. It is natural that we lead our lives through each other even though sometimes we wish our neighbours were not alive. What makes us different from other creatures of the world is our ability to reinvent ourselves into living with each other in spite of our differences, and the things that make us unique to each other. It is only in the collective that we can even begin to imagine that we are different. Therefore, if our uniqueness comes from the collective, united we can create a unique world in which prejudice against one is detrimental to all. If this be a dream, I wish to remain in slumber.
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
Sunday, May 25, 2008
THE OTHER IN US
When all of a sudden we can no longer hear the voices that once kept us alive and gave us a sense of human presence, we begin to notice the missing parts of us that once was. It is natural that we lead our lives through each other even though sometimes we wish our neighbours were not alive. What makes us different from other creatures of the world is our ability to reinvent ourselves into living with each other in spite of our differences, and the things that make us unique to each other. It is only in the collective that we can even begin to imagine that we are different. Therefore, if our uniqueness comes from the collective, united we can create a unique world in which prejudice against one is detrimental to all. If this be a dream, I wish to remain in slumber.
TO MOVE THE WORLD
One more step along the world I have come
Along pavements that seem to lead beyond
From familiar stories a few years done
To a new page almost unknown
Landing on shores that may not bemoan
The filosofia that is not my own
Along pavements that seem to lead beyond
From familiar stories a few years done
To a new page almost unknown
Landing on shores that may not bemoan
The filosofia that is not my own
From the lands of the Bambara
Where yemani trees stretch afar
I have swam across the Mano River
Uniting fallen tribes of separate lands
Bearing once more and now
The humble peace my forefathers spread
If these whirly winds be of more use
From the lion’s den I shall arise
Passing through the old and making anew
The cosmos a shape that is yet undone
To leave my mark where I belong
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