Anything about everything but nothing. It is what it is.
*sigh*
You'll break
You will break
Like a clay pot too weak and too hot
Like the glass vase tittering on the edge of a rickety table
Your sanity will break
And your smile will fade
No matter how hard you try you will break!
Just take a moment and cry.
Break before you are broken
Feel before you have fallen
Speak before you are lost
Before the words fall too far from your grasp
Before you are no one
Just emotions
Take a moment
Cry.
HI..
Everything's static
Pretty. Fake
The cars are not real
The town is not real
The air is an illusion
The time imagination
The lawns manicured
The lady prim and proper
The ghosts gone
The silence dead
And a bubble forms in this space
Where nothing breaks and nothing falls
The frame in shape
And the ink has stuck
Words in bold of shocking truth
"THIS TOWN IS FAKE BUT PRETTY TOO.
AND TIME IS REAL BUT NOT FOR YOU."
The first time I washed my hands
My skin had been hot and tough
Like a leather hide; been through a proper dry
I had been used to the soreness by then
First time I washed my hands
My palms were so red, I could fill a cup with blood
By the prick of a spinning needle
First time I washed my hands
I'd never thought of the dirt 'fore that very moment
Let alone a balming oil
First time I washed my hands
My heart slowed down almost to a halt
And freely did my tears fall
First time I washed my hands
First time after a long time
My palms healed
My hands stopped shaking
And I knew then, that I'd needed it
Oh how impossible to be an actor
I remember my first audition
I sat on that table opposite of my judge
I knew nothing then-
safe for the imagination of a smooth sail ahead
How naïve of me
He was so self aware
Or maybe a better actor
And I began my audition
The camera at me
Clapboard
"I am quite sentimental.
I like to love and to be loved.
I cried at the end of the titanic.
I like…"
And on and on I blabbered
And sighed after long a speech-
With pure intention
I had fully committed to this act
It was me
The character was me!
I had known very little about life but all about this character
He was me with a different name
My heart in my sleeve
My body in my feels
My mind in my body
My soul laid bare
And he said,
"Thank you, next."
I smiled.
It ends poorly
Grim
Blood, blood and sweat
Good cardio-
but, blood, blood and sweat
It's a fight
It is a never ending cycle of a fight
Hurt get hurt and on and on
Black eye for a black eye
Left foot on the right cheek
Blow for a kick
Screams!
Grim!
But it's from pain
Pickled pain
Like Kudzu
Developing, growing
And around the pain, Donald the tree
Mindless of the goings on
Breathing, living
While two cats, fight for nothing
No gun pointed at them
No cause of any repute
Just fighting
Standing in a vast field with a forest at the edge
A storm is coming as the clouds gather fiercely and rapidly
And I, still staring at the sky
From when it turned from blue to grey-
Dark grey
Everything around me falls apart
The people formerly having picnic breads and wine
Now Helter skelter
The birds that flew high and by now gone
The trees dancing vigorously to the wind
And I should run for cover
The thunder now viciously warning-
I should run for cover
But my feet are stuck
My eyes are fixed
I'm still staring at the sky
"Fix your state!" Shouts my mind
But I cry inwardly and still stare at the sky
And it pours!
Torrentially!
Tis only then that my feet carry me to safety
And now it's too late
I am wet!
The rain is pouring outside
It's been a while since I paid attention
I've been preoccupied with my situation
Surviving through misdirection
Left looking right and back looking forward
Had to always keep a brave face though in truth was a coward
I am just a broken child inside
Flawed to the bone with regret
I reek of fear and stain with pain
But today, the rain is pouring outside
And my guard is down for the night
Tonight I will be human for a time
And watch the rain pour outside
How do I crush your spirit?
How do I say a thing that will make you remorseful
For you have crushed mine, you see
How do I avenge my soul
Please tell me good sir?
And good I call you only for the sake of your kindred
For you have been good to them am sure
And on your day of goodbye
They all shall gather round and say
He was a good brother
A wonderful father, and a generous friend
The priest shall then say Amen!
And I to my own spirit shall curse at your grave
For kind and gentle you were not to me
And I have tried to plead with the sun and the moon
That they smite the evil darkness out of you
That they turn you to the light of guilt
That God who made all, bring you to a broken ego
Where you finally say, "I am sorry"
But instead, the arrogance of beauty claims you still
And that a "no" is still consent to you
'long as it was said in less emphasis than you purport
So rape, did not occur
And you are a free man
Said the judge!
So now tell me,
How do I uncrush my spirit?
Tell me please
Good sir!
Forgiven, all is forgiven
Only the reality which I see but still, all
Difficult to manage,
What with the heartache so explicit but still, all
Crushing to fathom and heavy to bare but still, all
The hurt laced in truth and care
The despise covered blatant and bare
The coating so beautiful to stare
Of a brutality masked with being fair
It was right there; but still, all
All is forgiven my heart,
Take all and take none
At your displeasure and at your whim take all
Even my soul I lay bare
Even my desires and dreams right there at your foot
It is true, I break to pieces
It is true my feels are flushed
But you, I love and so I let go and forgive all
So my dear,
If ever you bother about whether I forgave
Let it be known, let it be out
That I forgave you of all
Rarely ever do I remember the details of my days. Mostly, I only get by and anticipate to sink into my bed come night. But lately, I’ve been more attentive. Something is changing. Don’t know what it is, but surely I love that it is. Today, I went to work in good health and spirits. It was drizzling a bit in the morning and yester night, I’d washed and aired my clothes outside on the line so they weren’t dry by morning. But still, I didn’t bother to remove them from the line. I just knew that the clothes would dry by evening when I’d get back from work. Few moments after I’d been out on my way to work, it stopped drizzling. Almost as if to say, “I apologize, I shall bid you first to work ‘fore I continue on to the grass.” True to this thought, I arrived at work and moments later, the drizzle began again. No sooner had I arrived than a senior of mine requested that I should go somewhere to deliver something. And I know I sound ominous now but bare with me. This isn’t ominous at all. I, without hesitation, agreed. It was a bit strange though, because the person who was meant to do this was in the office already and it is not my job to do this but why not, I went.
It was a cool ride through some very leafy suburbs and beg I digress for a moment, why are they leafy? Literally? Anyway, smoothly we went to the place of delivery, a mall-told you! I had a bit of confusion as to which office I was to go to but I am a smart man, I’d like to think, so I didn’t call to find out, though I wanted to. Luckily, figured out where I was to make this delivery.
I was successful at this. But something happened in between my time of helter skelter while I was trying to find out where I was supposed to be at. You see, I was on the clock for this particular delivery.
I walked into a lift with a white woman only. Never before had I been in this situation and this was truly new to me. I was terrified for some strange reason. Even stranger, I do not have any white friends or foes or know of any but I was scared of her. Not utterly but somewhat. I couldn’t count the numbers go up more eagerly. As soon as we got to my floor, I walked out and so did she. She had an air of confidence I didn’t have and mind you, I have interacted with a white woman or two before. They seemed sweet on the interviews I had with them but, vaguely intimidating.
There is something I picked from this whole ordeal. Trauma can be inherited. Yes, yes, I know now you’re about to check out but stay a little while, I’ll explain myself. Over centuries, there has been great kingdoms and dynasties that have risen and fallen through time and circumstance. Africa was one of those places with such kingdoms and some would say the best of the best kingdoms with systems of leadership and culture that worked like clockwork. One of the oldest universities is even in Africa if you care to know. A man who collapsed economies by his own wealth existed in Africa too but then because, someone somewhere discovered gun powder before this man with gold and silver, he decided to steal it all from him.
Long sentence short, this man who once lived peacefully and happily was told that he was backwards and inferior because he looked like the black of night. A shade, only evil can be described by. And he believed. So, his will to fight was taken from him. He succumbed to this lies and felt justifiably defeated. He gave up everything and when the whip was cracked he took it in stride. Thank the heavens, this lasted only too long after millions had been killed and maimed and traded like cattle, but this man got too tired to be subservient for long and he took some action. However, when the man who was “superior” left him be, he said, “Good riddance!” This, after he had plundered enough for centuries to come for when he’d be called superior. And so the black man knew only one thing. Survive! And survive he did. But, to date, this man knows little of the history of his ancestors before the slaver docked his shore. To this date, some of the black man’s descendants believe to be inferior even in their own space and land. This is why, when a “mzungu” walks into a restaurant or a shop, they are attended to in kind and quickly whereas this does not apply to others. Some may say it to be mere hospitality while it is contrary to the truth.
My mother told me that her grandmother was a tall woman who aged to 91 and died only because she wanted to. She had refused to take “modern” medicine. She told me that my great grandmother was a fantastic orator, something I see in my mom, who loved her grand children so deeply as they did her. She told me that once, her grandmother told them of how she grew up in a vastly wealthy home that she would shower with twenty litres of milk.Then there my mother would smile in fond memory. My mother and her cousins never believed this story. I believe this story and I say, that as parents and brothers and sisters, we should expose each other to our greatness and grace and make each other heal. We are ancestors of a great people who were kings and queens of great kingdoms. We are royalty. Which is why the sun can’t hurt us and though we strive each day to find ourselves, we age in grace and remain tenacious and above all kind.
Gonzaga 