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COLOUR RIOT

Millions of miles across the Negro rivers
to a place where the carrot eye is roasted
with a metal cross on our neck
and a grey bracelet on our feet

The long edged iron
Screwed on our memory
a blessing of missiles
and pots for cooking our brothers
which our hands finds delight at doing

The white eagle is a saint inside our masquerade
My children, but our history is not as sugary
like the fresh morning wine
the toothless lion had smiled severally
falling a prey to ignorance
black for devil white for Christ

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 

Comments

that having a real working knowledge of your language and the way that it is constructed, would give me greater insight into this. I understand that your country is in turmoil and feel that you are trying to portray images that I do not understand. It is, full of metaphor and I am lost. ~ Geezer.
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