## A fusion of flesh and blood And their unified force, To be like the sun, Sovereign, and drawing Her own energy and incandescence, The resolve to be a heartbeat, And we are still babies, Just old enough, for a platinum anniversary, A celebration of a shimmering element, The glow of peace, Which is like
To every sanction or outright embargo There is a counter-movement. No one walks on the streets on curfew days Yet teenagers still play cricket, down empty alleyways. Embargos too, make life austere, Except for contraband that is sneaked through mules To a place, only the smugglers know. And sanctions, just like the disciplinary orders, Given
I took out a king-coconut Which I had bought from a street-side vendor A matured ripe orange nut That I slashed with a carved knife, When the water that was pressed inside Beneath indomitable walls Spurted out and some splashed All over my yearning lips, To teach me an empowering truth I had forgotten with
While they worship the mercenary And the revolutionary in Santa Clara, Where he lies, his eyes firmly pointed At the city below, a monumental cultural icon That defied the plague of inequality And made the hunger for justice A mission of love — And with him, a few hundred miles Down the road lies, the
The black man plays the harmonica Delta blues that hover like drones in the air And those droning sounds are a strain of patience As resilient as a dromedary camel on a dessert The hump and hoofs that make long journeys Short and the distance between two points A straightening line. Forbearance is a little
A green card To a slice of apple pie For a sweet tooth .
Where percussion Of tips of fingers in tune Spent on stretched skin and metallic wire Releases the tips of toes To etch journeys of movement Defying sketches of geometry Rippling beyond invisible edges Of 360 degrees Of an infinitely perfect freedom
My survival Is not a clown-act or a pantomime It’s a lesson for mankind That the caged bird Will always possess dazzling plumage And will sing her song In spite of the cruelty and apathy Of every other man.
Flyaway like a baby feather Emancipated and afloat Flyaway like a gossamer kite String-less and free Flyaway like a ball of hay Dancing to fate’s rhyme Flyway till you find an eternal silence As your soul is set free