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Steve Bantu Biko

1 - 1011 - 16
Time Zone: EST (New York, Toronto)
Messenger: Ten Sent: 9/14/2007 3:27:49 PM

I watched it a couple of times when I was young, so go ahead and watch and give your RASponse, maybe you'll jog my memory a bit.

Messenger: prophecy Sent: 9/14/2007 11:50:22 PM

blessed love empress ten, the i have myspace? here is mine, hope the wolves don't hack have some poems on i blog, but the afrikan one i don' is one tho..

many stories
so much pain
starring through the window stain
many glories
so much pain
driven through memories lane
turning pages
sudden turns
turning pages
of memories learned
many stories
hidden lies
brainswashing the masses
with your lies
many stories
to be told
many truths
to unfold
many stories
slowly flow
speaking as the pages
creases fold
many stories
turning time
when will our stories
be truth defined

copyright at Tracy Kre..

Messenger: Ten Sent: 9/15/2007 9:50:41 AM

Blessed Love
Word Sound is Power, Sister give thanks for sharing. I really liked the way you used simple words and simple images but gave them so much meaning and depth. I could feel the rhythm of the words and was moving along with the stories, the truth and memories, very nice. I write too but the minimalist thing is something I've not quite grasped, I like to use alot of words so it has a different effect, and it flows too. I'll post something as well, give thanks again for the words, have a blessed Sabbath.
Haile I, Rastafari

Messenger: Ten Sent: 9/15/2007 11:39:54 AM

I started this yesterday and am still in the process of writing this, its changed so much since the first draft and its interesting to see how much more it will change. Bless.

house of stone

the kinky crown on my head
has roots so deep they defy history’s textual limits
starting with my mother, my grandmother and her mother
and her mother and her mother and her mother
and her mother before her, before her, before her
to a time when women made rain with their hands,
taking a pinch of sunshine, covering it with six days of prayer
to open palms of cloud and thunder on the seventh.

across these sabbatical heavens,
my name is written in praise of a new day,
this is where my roots begin
sculpted by lineages of black hands
who built this house of stone
(from where i rise),
long before bullets and bibles scarred us
long before when we were bantu
not bantus living in bantustans
that caused bantus to birth revolutions
that soon became illusions of grandeur
when greedy gandangas* gorged their gluttonous souls
on house harvests
before markets opened
now stone becomes a house of hunger
abandoned by many into sunless asylums
where the moon never sleeps
and the sun never awakens

i pray for a long after,
a long after of before
i pray with my hands
as my mothers prayed before
i pray in these roots
for a long after of before
that saw tomorrow's suns
rising in my daughter's womb
and her daughter and her daughter
and her daughter and her daughter
and her daughter and her daughters
long after
for nothing can move this house of stone.

* gandangas - Shona word for guerilla fighters who fought in the liberation struggle

Messenger: prophecy Sent: 9/15/2007 12:40:34 PM

well ten I usually have longer poems, but it is in storage. Yes Hon. empress, give thanx for the ilahful poem, pls send the finished one love

Messenger: Ten Sent: 9/15/2007 2:02:34 PM

Praises Sister
I really liked this one as said before so I imagine the longer pieces must be even more fire. I noticed copyright at the end - is the sister in a collection? Published? If you are, that's great. Do you perform as well?

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Haile Selassie I