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    Poetry: Remember
    Posted on Wednesday, October 18 @ 21:36:46 UTC by admin

    Black Power by Eja

    "Have you remembered
    yet
    or are you still
    in forgetfulness
    Like when you
    misrecognised
    your sister
    your African sister
    When you called her
    trade-goods
    When you sold her
    because you did not
    remember
    you did not recognise
    your sister.

    Have you remembered
    yet
    or are you still
    in forgetfulness
    Like when you
    returned home
    in the company
    of your blood's enemy
    to fight your brother
    so your enemy
    could rule your lands
    which you had forgotten
    were your lands
    When you rode down
    when you cut down
    your brother
    because you could not
    remember
    your natural ties.

    Remember
    your name
    Or will you still answer
    to the sound
    you were yoked with
    after you were named
    as trade-goods?

    When you meet
    your ancestors
    will you remember
    thier faces
    or will you look
    past them
    searching for the pale
    face
    of the one you were
    told
    died for your sins?

    When this life is over
    when stories are retold
    What will you say
    to the faces
    of the ones who died
    because you did not
    remember?"

    There is much
    we find hard
    to live with
    without the use
    of a mask
    Things we know
    whose names we will
    never call aloud
    Most of all
    we find it hard
    to deal with
    the memory
    of ourselves
    what we were
    yesterday
    what we are
    today
    what we may be
    tommorow
    I cannot tell which
    from the self who is
    a victim of colonialism
    to the self is
    a collaborator
    with
    neo-colonialism
    I cannot tell
    which is
    my Self

    I start
    but I stop
    as my arms cannot
    encompass
    the sorrows
    the anger
    the fear
    the desire
    My spirit
    cannot grasp
    this much
    How can I love
    the captive
    self
    without feeling anger
    as I remember
    it's tribulations
    How can I live
    with this anger
    as I feed
    from the same plate
    as the ones
    who profitted
    from the agonies
    of the captive?

    This love
    for self
    is opaque
    hard to overstand
    as I know not
    yet
    from my many selves
    which
    is my real Self

    "Love is not
    opaque
    Love is as simple
    as breath
    As common
    as the gaze of a
    mother
    African
    If you ever
    did breath
    If you ever had a
    mother then
    you knew
    Love
    You knew Love
    before you knew
    anything else
    You knew of Love
    before you knew
    of this self and
    that self"

    The selves
    I overstand
    The Self is
    what I find
    hard to penetrate

    "To penetrate
    the inpenetrable
    Allow yourself
    to be encompassed
    There is nothing
    that the Spirit
    cannot encompass
    African
    To encompass
    the infinite
    allow yourself
    to be penetrated.

    The infinite
    all that is
    all that was
    all that will be
    is in your breath
    You had it
    and you let it go
    But
    you can have it
    again
    if you are wise
    enough
    in the use of your breath.

    To remember
    wisdom
    African
    look without prejudice
    or favour
    at this self
    and at that self
    Enhance
    the beauty
    of this self
    with the love
    of one who finds
    joy
    in what he beholds
    Cure the pain
    of that self
    with the love
    of one who finds
    fulfilment
    in his task.

    And when you are done
    African
    never forget
    a step of
    the road
    that led you
    here."


     
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