BLUE BLACK GOD ! GLAD I'M BLACK ; PITCH-FORKING DEVIL BLACK : 
BLACK, BLACK, BLACK ; FF BLACK ABSOLUTE OF LIFE COMPLETE, GREEDFULLY 
GRABBING LIFE'S LIVING . . . BLACK BLUES THE BLUES IS 
THE BLACK O' THE FACE, I SAID : BLACK IS THE 
BLUES' FACE ; IT'S BLACK IN THE MORNIN' BEIGE IN THE 
SUN, AND BLUE BLACK ALL NIGHT LONG . OH, THE BLUES 
IS A BLACK DEVIL FACE, I SAID : DEVIL BLACK IS 
THE BLUES' FACE ; IT'S BLACK IN THE MORNIN' BEIGE IN 
THE SUN, AND BLUE BLACK ALL NIGHT LONG . MY BABY, 
SAID TO ME, DADDY ; SIT DOWN AND LISTEN, CANDY : 
THE BLUES IS IN YOUR BLOOD, BLACK DOWN DEEP IN YOUR 
SKIN AND THE DEVIL RIDES ON YOUR BACK . THE MEAN 
BLACK BLUES GOT MY DADDY, THOSE BLACK MEAN BLUES GOT YOU, 
DADDY ; YOU'RE BLACK IN THE MORNIN' BEIGE IN THE SUN, 
CANDY BLACK ALL NIGHT LONG . BLOKE MODISANE (SOUTH AFRICA) BLACKMAN'S 
GOD OUR GOD IS GREAT WHO DARE DENY IT OUR GOD 
IS GREAT POWERFUL AND DARK PEERING THROUGH AGES HEALING, KILLING, GUIDING 
. OUR GOD IS BLACK AND LIKE A GODDAMNED GOD GUIDING 
WHEN LOVING KILLING WHEN ANGERED . OUR GOD IS POWERFUL ALL-POWERFUL 
AND BLACK AND LIKE ALL DEITIES OUR GODHEAD LIKES BLOOD WHETHER 
IT BE BLOOD OF ISAAC OR RAM OUR GOD LIKES BLOOD 
. . . FRANCIS KOBINA PARKES (GHANA) WHO KNOWS ? WHO 
KNOWS ? THIS AFRICA SO RICHLY BLEST WITH GOLDEN LANDS AND 
FRONDED PALMS IN AIR, THE ENVY OF GREAT NATIONS FAR AND 
NEAR, MAY YET THE WORLD LEAD BACK TO PEACE AND REST, 
GOODWILL TO ALL . WHO KNOWS ? WHO KNOWS ? AND 
WHEN THE FULLNESS OF GOD'S TIME HAS COME AND MEN OF 
DIVERS COLORS, TRIBES AND CASTES HAVE OWNED HIM KING ; WHEN 
HATE AND SIN ARE PASSED, THE PRINCE OF PEACE MAY FOUND 
HIS HOME IN AFRICA AT LAST . WHO KNOWS ? WHO 
KNOWS ? A . L . MILNER-BROWN (GHANA) MOTHER DARK MOTHER 
LAND LONG LAIN ASLEEP HER PEOPLE LOVED THEY LIVED AND KILLED 
TO LIVE BY NATURE'S LAW . SOULS TO SAVE THE STRANGERS 
SOUGHT, RICHES, SOME KNOWLEDGE, THEY NAMED HER " DARK " YES, 
DARK WAS SHE IN EVERY SENSE WAS DARK . THEY BROUGHT 
" THE LIGHT " AND WITH THE LIGHT SHE SAW HER 
CHILDREN LED IN CHAINS THEIR WEARIED STEPS QUICKENED BY THE LASH 
OF CAIN . . . MOTHER DARK SHE WAS DARK, VERY 
DARK CRIED OUT AND HER VOICE SHOOK ALL THE WORLD, FREE 
MY PEOPLE SET MY SONS AND DAUGHTERS FREE ! THE BEARERS 
OF LIGHT MADE BOLD RETREAT SILENT DIGNIFIED FAREWELL POMP AND SPLENDOUR, 
SAVING GRACE THE SPOILT CHILD AMIDST A THOUSAND SHELLS WITHDREW . 
MOTHER DARK HER RULERS CHOSE ALL BRANDED WITH HER MARK . 
ALAS ! THEY LEARNED TOO WELL THE " LIGHT " THEN 
BROUGHT HOME THE YOKE . MOTHER DARK HER WOUNDED HEART WAILED 
LOUD IN PAIN, IS THERE NO HOPE ? MY CHILDREN PERISH 
! BUT HER VOICE IS NOT HEARD FOR HER CHILDREN NOW 
OPPRESS HER CHILDREN . FRANCESCA YETUNDE PEREIRA (NIGERIA) AFRICAN POETRY WHERE 
GOD IS BLACK MOST BLACK AFRICANS ONLY LEARNED TO WRITE DOWN 
THEIR SONGS AND TALES IN THE PAST HUNDRED YEARS, BUT THEY 
ARE HEIRS TO CENTURIES OF ORAL LITERATURE . IN THEIR SEARCH 
FOR AN AFRICAN IDENTITY, THE CONTINENT'S CONTEMPORARY POETS MANY OF THEM 
LEADING POLITICIANS TODAY HAVE FORSAKEN THEIR MISSION-SCHOOL GOLDEN TREASURY TO REDISCOVER 
THE PAGAN RHYMES AND RHYTHMS THAT ENLIVENED TRIBAL LIFE LONG BEFORE 
THE WHITE MAN CAME . SAYS LEOPOLD SEDAR SENGHOR, WHO IS 
BLACK AFRICA'S MOST DISTINGUISHED POET AS WELL AS PRESIDENT OF SENEGAL 
: " POETRY MUST FIND ITS WAY BACK TO ITS ORIGINS 
. " THE ATTEMPT TO EXPLORE AND REVIVE THESE ORIGINS IS 
ILLUSTRATED IN A NEW ANTHOLOGY, POEMS FROM BLACK AFRICA (INDIANA UNIVERSITY 
PRESS ; $4.95), EDITED BY U.S . NEGRO POET LANGSTON HUGHES 
. SOME OF THE POETS ARE SELF-CONSCIOUSLY PRIMITIVE, AND A FEW 
OF THE ENGLISH-SPEAKING ONES WRITE WITH ECHOES OF T . S 
. ELIOT OR GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS . BUT THEY ARE ALSO 
BUSY TRANSCRIBING AND TRANSLATING TRADITIONAL FOLK TO ADHIAMBO I HEAR MANY 
VOICES LIKE IT'S SAID A MADMAN HEARS ; I HEAR TREES 
TALKING LIKE IT'S SAID A MEDICINE MAN HEARS . MAYBE I'M 
A MADMAN, I'M A MEDICINE MAN . MAYBE I'M MAD ; 
FOR THE VOICES ARE LURING ME, URGING ME FROM THE MIDNIGHT 
MOON AND THE SILENCE OF MY DESK TO WALK ON WAVE 
CRESTS ACROSS A SEA . MAYBE I'M A MEDICINE MAN HEARING 
TALKING SAPS, SEEING BEHIND TREES ; BUT WHO'S LOST HIS POWERS 
OF INVOCATION . BUT THE VOICES AND THE TREES ARE ONE 
NAME SPELLING AND ONE FIGURE SILENCE-ETCHED ACROSS THE MOONFACE IS WALKING, 
STEPPING OVER CONTINENTS AND SEAS . AND I RAISED MY HAND 
MY TREMBLING HAND, GRIPPING MY HEART AS HANDKERCHIEF AND WAVED AND 
WAVED AND WAVED BUT SHE TURNED HER EYES AWAY . GABRIEL 
OKARA (NIGERIA) TO NEW YORK FOR JAZZ ORCHESTRA : TRUMPET SOLO 
POETRY AND EVOLVING WHAT ANTHOLOGIST HUGHES HOPEFULLY DESCRIBES AS A LITERATURE 
THAT " WALKS WITH GRACE AND ALREADY IS BEGINNING TO ACHIEVE 
AN INDIVIDUALITY QUITE ITS OWN . " MOST OF THE BLACK 
NEW WAVE POETS ARE CONCERNED WITH NEGRITUDE, A FRENCH WORD FOR 
THE ESSENCE OF BLACKNESS AND, BY EXTENSION, FOR A WORLD IN 
WHICH DESPAIR IS WHITE, WHILE GOD AND INNOCENCE ARE BLACK . 
MANY WRITERS CELEBRATE NATURE AND MEMORIES OF A PRISTINE AFRICA . 
MOST ARE PREOCCUPIED BY THE WEST'S FAILURE TO UNDERSTAND THEM . 
BUT IN THEIR POETRY IF NOT IN THEIR U.N . SPEECHES 
AFRICANS WASTE SURPRISINGLY LITTLE TIME INVEIGHING AGAINST IMPERIALISM, NOTWITHSTANDING A TIRADE 
BY A PART-TIME POET NAMED PATRICE LUMUMBA, THE LATE, RABBLEROUSING CONGOLESE 
LEADER ( " FOR A THOUSAND YEARS, YOU, AFRICAN, SUFFERED LIKE 
A BEAST . . . " ) . A SAMPLER OF 
VOICES FROM THE NEW AFRICA : FIRST I WAS CONFUSED BY 
YOUR BEAUTY, BY THOSE GREAT GOLDEN LONG-LEGGED GIRLS . SO SHY 
AT FIRST BEFORE YOUR METALLIC EYES, YOUR FROSTED SMILE SO SHY 
. AND THE ANGUISH IN THE DEPTHS OF SKYSCRAPER STREETS LIFTING 
EYES HAWKHOODED TO THE SUN'E ECLIPSE . SULPHUROUS YOUR LIGHT AND 
LIVID THE TOWERS WITH HEADS THAT THUNDERBOLT THE SKY THE SKYSCRAPERS 
WHICH DEFY THE STORMS WITH MUSCLES OF STEEL AND STONE-GLAZED HIDE 
. FF BUT TWO WEEKS ON THE BARE SIDEWALKS OF MANHATTAN 
AT THE END OF THE THIRD WEEK THE FEVER SEIZES YOU 
WITH THE POUNCE OF A LEOPARD . . . NEW YORK 
! I SAY TO YOU : NEW YORK ! LET BLACK 
BLOOD FLOW INTO YOUR BLOOD THAT IT MAY RUB THE RUST 
FROM YOUR STEEL JOINTS, LIKE AN OIL OF LIFE THAT IT 
MAY GIVE TO YOUR BRIDGES THE BEND OF BUTTOCKS AND THE 
SUPPLENESS OF CREEPERS . NOW RETURN THE MOST AICIENT TIMES, THE 
UNITY RECOVERED, THE RECONCILIATION OF THE LION, THE BULL AND THE 
TREE THOUGHTS LINKED TO ACT, EAR TO HEART, SIGN TO SENSE 
. THERE ARE YOUR RIVERS MURMURING WITH SCENTED CROCODILES AND MIRAGE-EYED 
MANATEES . AND NO NEED TO INVENT THE SIRENS . BUT 
IT IS ENOUGH TO OPEN EYES TO THE RAINBOW OF APRIL 
AND THE EARS, ABOVE ALL THE EARS, TO GOD WHO OUT 
OF THE LAUGH OF A SAXOPHONE CREATED THE HEAVEN AND THE 
EARTH IN SIX DAYS . AND THE SEVENTH DAY HE SLEPT 
THE GREAT SLEEP OF THE NEGRO . LEOPOLD SEDAR SENGHOR (SENEGAL) 
WHERE THE RAINBOW ENDS WHERE THE RAINBOW ENDS THERE'S GOING TO 
BE A PLACE, BROTHER, WHERE THE WORLD CAN SING ALL SORTS 
OF SONGS, AND WE'RE GOING TO SING TOGETHER, BROTHER, YOU AND 
I, THOUGH YOU'RE WHITE AND I'M NOT . IT'S GOING TO 
BE A SAD SONG, BROTHER, BECAUSE WE DON'T KNOW THE TUNE, 
AND IT'S A DIFFICULT TUNE TO LEARN . BUT WE CAN 
LEARN, BROTHER, YOU AND I . THERE'S NO SUCH TUNE AS 
A BLACK TUNE . THERE'S NO SUCH TUNE AS A WHITE 
TUNE . THERE'S ONLY MUSIC, BROTHER, AND IT'S MUSIC WE'RE GOING 
TO SING WHERE THE RAINBOW ENDS . RICHARD RIVE (SOUTH AFRICA) 
