The Passion of Our Ancestors

“Oh I listen through the cracks of my skull

It rises, it rises, the black flood rises. It rises out of the depths of the earth.

Waves I hear shrieking, swamps I smell of animal odours, and storm foams

from naked feet.

And there is a swarm of ever new feet climbing from the mountains …” – Cesaire

Published by greenankhworks

Revolutionary Lover of Green Ankhs, Ma'at, Poetry, Justice and Social Music

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