Monday, October 24, 2011

Adzogbo



To the conga's devilish beat 
We dance 
Like monkeys in a cage 
Paint from African mask blackens every drip of sweat
Sharing our darkest passions 
Like an addict's last needle 
To the conga's devilish beat 
We dance 
To the ritual of ashes watered 
Over starving eyes while 
Reciting proverbs and poetry
Bodies intertwined 
As one gains freedom 
The other remains a slave 
To the conga's devilish beat 
We dance 
A two-step in shackles around ashy ankles 
The coolness of grey like a brand new tombstone 
Where each head will lay.


©2011 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.

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27 comments:

Brian Miller said...

wow chilling imagery there in the end...thanks for inviting us into this...it feels very ritualistic...the repitition sets the tone of the dance...

Claudia said...

there are so many different congas and we need to be careful to which of them we dance...some set us free, others make us slaves...great imagery anthony, raw and visceral as we're used from you

Randy Behavior said...

Intriguing and frightening. I feel the beat.

mrs mediocrity said...

great rhythm and cadence here, reinforcing that devilish beat. powerful imagery.
wonderful the music in this line: A two-step in shackles around ashy ankles. excellent.

Natasha Head said...

Your last three lines drive the entire piece home with more passion than the whirling dervish! A two-step in shackles around ashy ankles...dude! I want to be the writer of that line...

Kodjo Deynoo. said...

Brilliant took me back to Africa

Adura Ojo said...

Suits the mood of the season. Draws you in and then you wanna run but can't.

theborgpoet said...

I enjoyed this piece and oddly enough, my piece was along the same theme. Nice write!

wolfsrosebud said...

nice rhythm to your poem

poeticdelusions.com said...

Deep & dark poetry of an hypnotic dance..real & raw & finishing with that chilling ending *shivers* ...great stuff!

Rene/ Not The Rockefellers said...

hard to ignore that beat...great write

Serving Hugs on a Platter and Tears in a Teacup said...

Very well done...you can hear the African drums beat as you read...

Alaurilee

Emily said...

Loving the conga rhythm repeating throughout.

Anonymous said...

I love the poetry/photo combination. That always gives a piece a little extra kick.

Nice words, rhythm, and jive. These are my faves:

"Sharing our darkest passions
Like an addict's last needle"

"The coolness of grey like a brand new tombstone
Where each head will lay"

~Shawna (iamthat-shawna.blogspot.com)

"As one gains freedom
The other remains a slave"

chromapoesy.com said...

So apt for the season where we face the terrors that derail our lives. Those last three lines are a killer close! Great poetry as always.

The Linnet said...

Love this dark yet intimate dance!

Great poem, thanks for sharing :-)

Shaista said...

Just immersed in Beloved by Toni Morrison where that image of the 'brand new tombstone' takes on a whole new shade of grey.

The Old Raven said...

A conjured picture filled with drum beat. Very interesting.

Joseph Hesch said...

AD, each week your work becomes richer, deeper, more raw, more thoughtful, more everything. And I gain so much from reading it. Really, man, I just enjoy my visits here so much.

Ann LeFlore said...

This is a great poem and dancing with conga's. I especially like the ending of this poem it is full of images and really stands out
http://gatelesspassage.com/2011/10/25/the-groom-of-the-dead-bride/

Beachanny said...

This is a dance through the history of black roots dancing across waters with the realization that the music runs deep and the end lies in ashes. A really strong poem with a firm voice, Anthony. Loved it!

kamana said...

powerful imagery

kaykuala said...

Macabre signs and movements. I can hear the conga beats as I read progressively downwards.Great!

Hank

hedgewitch said...

Just spent five minutes watching some amazing synchronized dancing and drumming, so first, thanks for making me google Adzogbo. Your poem made a lot more sense after that also--Africa is still a neglected mystery, a graveyard of enterprise, a trove of cultural history buried in unfamiliarity, a kettle of war and blood and starvation always simmering from which distance allows us to remain aloof. Thanks for bringing the reality closer.

Percy @dreamhopewrite said...

Anthony reading your poems is like being in the museum and looking at a painting painted by a great artist. I literally see your poems that my friend is Art!

somewhereamelody said...

The repitition in this works so well.
The imagery is dark and intense...
these lines struck me particularly ...
"As one gains freedom
The other remains a slave"

Matt D said...

I could here the thumping rhythm. An excellent poem! :)