The Voice of the Gods

The gods call...

their voices drenched in blood

echo from the dept of the River

in the Delta

whence the dislocation

was initiated in the blood of our kinsmen

The blood soaked voice sailed

across three hundred years

to where our lost tribes men

now pitch their tents

But our brothers have lost their flat nose

the clay of their making

mixed with everything but clay

blood mixed with everything but blood

Now the gods call

their voices fall on strange ears

Ears dislocated from the mysticism

of being African...the gods call.

Dave Chukwuji

Copyright © 2003