Ein Gedicht zum Zwischenstand
Liebe Unterstützer/innen,
nach nur einer Woche sind schon über 70% des Fundingziels erreicht - vielen vielen Dank!
Zum Zwischenstand möchte ich ein Gedicht mit euch teilen, das ein Zuschauer beim Screening in Lagos geschrieben hat.
DID THE MASK DIE HERE?
Von Babatunde Segun Odubanwo
Wandering, wandering Your feet aches on a turgid turf, far
from a land, your sored face like a refugee from a war-torn zone. Bartered, Bartered You came form a land where the sun is atop the moon,a land of trojans and villains, of blacks and white, of solitude and roving passion-you left.
Finding a space between the lines of life, eloped beyond the skies, your blues is a surreal frrl, submerged in the subterfage of a golden age, your antiques is scorned by despots, your craft-an ertswhile tradition.
Groaning like a woman in pains of paturition, an infant
who is denied the nipples dripping, a man who repines alone,Grieved by the comings of a new race, a horrendous sweat on skin, serrating back and forth. A dainty totem abhorred....
In the dreams, the spirits says AM I DEAD? Coming home, a spirited pang rang in the bang of soulful consciousness----Asking Again, Am i dead? Walking invisible, your ilk is an immortal flaw, haunting the times, waning the gains of our fathers long gone, wireless wires befoul the gunning gongs.Time ticks-a man is born, a man dies: People counts, life goes on....
The schism of orients and potent kindred ties-mangles the sacredness of our tall walls also subjugating the ancients tasks and tracks as a devalued money. Months and years as an Androphagus Nightmare. A crusade lays bare the Ouagadogou ancestral heriatge: Where is the Effigy of Pride, bereft or dead?
