A HOLLER FROM THE PROJECTS, SAYING

We have crossed many of a pregnant river,

Leaving taunting umbilical memories behind---

Memories that cause the soul to rock and shiver;

And send excruciating pain ravaging the mind.

So many thousands are we---project dwellers---

Corralled within politico-economical confines;

Our opened cells---training grounds for social work

Skills and dope sellers:

These urban, ebony compounds of socio-cultural dirt,

Reflect incarceration times---

But these neo-colonial type holding enclaves,

need not be like reflections of the holding frounds

Of the slaves;

Basketballs and nikke's---footballs and jerseys---

Could buy up and restore these urban territories;

Establishing sound economical, political and cultural

Communities:

Come brothers; come sisters; let us pool our resources;

Bring forth these realities.