#Philosophistication

Walking through the historical times
of pain, wonder and collective hungers,
through the forests of khumbaya,
in the times where human and mamba
would slither to the same house of slumber,
on and on we went; through the path
filled with trees bearing fruits of lynched
slaves, where birds would peak insight
from the slave's eye, freedom denied
and yet the jive still raising the dust,
red sky and warm fires, samp and
caterpillar; wishing for the butterfly
to grant us wings inside us, beautiful
times insightful, cold souls inhabiting cold
homes; African igloos, slingshot to heaven
using bamboos, cries and lips being
soundproof; whimper and you weaken
the flock, the sheep need to feel strong,
the shepherd is nowhere to belong,
mere imitators and chance takers,
corrupt martyrs and villainy heroes,
Paul Simon preaching of golden shoes
and Masekela esekela the path for the
weakened fighters; weekend with Chibuku
sips and old men's lips and grannies
dancing around inhloko pots, on to
freedom slowly like sloths while the
system feeds on us like moths,
lost down the road to the promised land
when they walked hand in hand with
those who had crooked intents.
Ceremony; slaughter the goats and
have herbs...