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NAKED WOMAN, BLACK WOMAN (a chant by Madu Chisom Kingdavid)

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Naked Woman, Black Woman

Naked Woman, Black Woman 
Charcoal-colored mid-wife of the newborn sun;
Symphonic spumes of Cuanza rippling on the eyeballs of crocodiles
And the adder of tropical rain forest at the banquet of gustnado.

You are that dark dimpled damsel with full-ripened breasts,
Winding waist and hip of otter at Atulogwu moonlight dance
Who perfectly answered the magic rhythms of carved tom-toms and flutes
As you wove your being into a memorial goddess;

Your gap-toothed smiles, full of enchantment,
Squeezed out frenzies from the faces of cheering folks
And squeezed out gladness from the blades of grasses and trees.
I heard the East Winds and the skies singing:
”Beauty! Beauty! Is your color,
Holy! Holy! Is Your Name”…
As they plastered kisses under the dusk of your skin…

Naked Woman, Black Woman 
Spouse of th savanna ah, nipples of sunspot, darker than the armpits
Of the night, flesh of declining sun, dust-storm of Sahara desert
And green breeze of a mellow corn-field upon the thighs of mangroves.

Feverish drums of the heavy night rain, dry season’s black clays of dambos,
Dark-bloomed flower of magical smells; of autumn and winter
Lengthening the tongues to tap dews from your petal;
Natron, silver and limelite being the couples of your foot-prints
And colbalt, chrome and iron ore being the citizens of your loin.
You are the mistress of alligator’s semen, carrier of tiger’s bravery
And the sea-gulls mating at the bay of Kariba lake…

Naked Woman, Black Woman 
The brides-maid at the solemnization between lead and zinc
Mystic strength of Shaka the Zulu, verses of Senghor and Birago Diop
And the Kalahari plateau, crisscrossed by dry rivers’ beds and dense scrub.

O! Merciful Lord of the universe, drive me safely home, let me
Pillow my weary head on her cleavage of dawn,
Where I will have ownership of comfort,
And let me sleep on the sea-bed of her mouth
That I may draw rivulets cooler than the breath of waterfalls,
Cooler than the banks of River Shire to quench the flares
Of my longings and weariness…

meet the poet: Madu Chisom Kingdavid

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