La Mia Donna Poem by Merlin Mwaura

I can relate,
translate a little Italian,
quench this thirst,
with some vino,
light my sigaro...
must not remind you,
that life is short.
wear that wrist watch to remind myself!
don an African bracelet,
listen to the sound of my life,
friends and family,
started a tremendous rhythm.
La mia donna tunes it.

Wet my lips a little,
make my press entries early
practice my tribal roar,
calm this restlessness in our mothers,
wondering what is to make of us,
young generation,
ear phones attached,
listening to a Spanish title,
Viva La Vida...
and hear the Cold play.

La mia donna,
talk presto,
So I can hear the truth once,
to listen to one is enough,
The blood here will have my current,
my movement.
Till I stop being automatic,
make a lot of sense,
behind and in between the lines.
raise my t-shirt up over my head,
do a b-boy wind mill,
wake up dizzy from it...
Get that concrete bruise,
place a dirty bandage,
stain it with my essence.
Until it becomes a bloodied rag.
Make it my symbol of truth,
from being rags to being sacred,
like a man on the cross,
make people believe,
in the power within.

La mia donna,
place your finger on this tattoo...
learn it by heart,
because I found it there...
it is o.k. to cry now,
wonder if it didn't hurt?
blacked out when I had it.
I can relate,
to this session here,
walking on the dry leaves,
on the pavement to your room,
the rusted gated somewhere,
look like I came into a school,
so I can learn,
La mia donna,
makes the tune I walk in,
feel good doing it.
felt like I just had a deja vu.
writing this here,
La mia donna.