Askia M. Touré Quotes

3 Sourced Quotes

Make your vital Circle,
you pain-wracked, whip-scarred
hordes. You sun-scorched saints
of myriad bondage seasons;
You Mantle, Ibo, Bakongo,
Dogon.

Askia M. Touré

Ambush the Silver Screen. Rob it of its victims—
frightened coons and screeching Aunt Jemimas. Kidnap Birmingham/Stepin/ Fetchit/Beaulah/Butterfly. Nature them to life with the love-cry echoes
of your soul.

Askia M. Touré

We, poet and magic myth-making Giant of Song, wander on. Holy the bones of our ancestors wrapped in Pyramids resting 'til the end of Time Holy the Magi, priests and Myth-scientists of Africa for sending him to us.

Askia M. Touré