From the falling razor-rays of the African sun I’m untaught; I’m a bare foot traveler whom his edification lies in the blur caving rocks and wells of African canals. <br />I’m born under the falling sky colored with blood shed by those who stamped hard earth to voice their birth right ownership. <br />I’m a fired hill whom their black beauty is starvation to adventurer and hibernated <br />I’m stung by vermin beasts and processed within poisons of revolution, <br />My skin maps all the places I’ve traveled; it curves all caves I sheltered in, <br />My ear drums store all the melodies of weeping Africa, falling and ascending, <br />They store the silence of confused newly born and freshly deceased <br />My ear drums have captured the silence of my loud heart beats, and running thoughts escaping unlined death. <br />My indigenous voice have uttered silence vowels to predator as my flesh approaches the speared digestions of hungered <br />My voices have spoken in foreign tongues to call the dead <br />Only my voice can pronounce sounds of rising and falling nature, <br /> Here I ink, no African beats me….. <br />I am an African<br /><br />Sma Mthembu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/im-an-african/
