Mourning Dr. Angelou Maya Poem by alexander opicho

Mourning Dr. Angelou Maya



An African sunset has once again,
not outlived darkness of its own sunset,
but the legacy of its poetry will soon
Set forth the new dawn in full brightness
Of the phenomenal African woman
Whose desire to sire human freedom
Irritatingly sings and will ever sing like
A bird in the cage of oppressor's ploy
Singing the songs of freedom for all,
Invoking ears of the heart in mental realm
Of prejudice and bigoted self-exclusion
to see the self in the face of otherness.


I mourn Dr. Angelou Maya who passed on,
On the black Wednesday of may 2014,
A doomsday of dooms-month of dooms-year,
That extended the invisible tentacles of death
To curtail the breathes African daughter,
At the Wake Forest University, in land of the Yankees,
At her only virgin age of 8 and 6 compartments
Of twelve months swelling not even full in each case,
Leaving me to wonder in my African callousness,
At the magical reality in the sharp sounded words;
Of, O death! O death! Why are you so untimely?
That echoed from whale rapacious jaws in the mandibles
Of capitalism that ruthlessly converts nature into dirty money
In the erstwhile onset of the dawn for new morning.


I mourn with grief, my dear sister; Dr. Angelou Maya,
She boldly stood up in the fullness of her melanin
Pronouncedly sexy and elegant gap in her front teeth,
Blending to overwhelm the entire world with the beauty,
In the darkness of her African skin, provoking evil
Of the time, that let a white man to rape her
A Poor daughter of the an ex-slave in Americas,
And the rapist walked away scot-free at the helm of
Evil freedom in the apartheid civilization of the USA, as her humane
Heart forgave him, the white rapist, seven times and seventy seven
occasions, a reflection of true piousness, true humanism,
Like a phoenix she still stood up, her head in fortitude like a tor,
as we the conquered and the enslaved ones sat forlorn,
in the bondage of fierce slavery, at the nub of salve anguish
in the pangs of nostalgia for the banks of River Congo,
Yearning in equanimity for the life by the waters of the River Nile,
she had to rise indomitably and sing for civil rights of the black souls,
Terrorized by the evils and wiles of Ku Klux Klan, handmaiden
by the Jimmy Crow cultures in the days of Rosa Parks,
She sang tunes, lyrics and poor folks' ballads together
with Luther King Jnr., Malcolm X and entire Negritude,
When we lived as slaves in the land of abundance,
Caged in the pigeonholes of black ghettoes
Mushrooming the entire Harlem in which
she were born, dear begotten daughter of Africa,
You rose and sang songs of liberty when the world
Was mum on the violations of gender,
Is when your thespic power in your magical
And surreal words, created the truth
In the phenomenon of phenomenal woman
That finds honour in un-bowing before the thrones
Of those who reign by perpetrating terror.
.

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