Yon Powém Pou Manman'm (A Poem for My Mother)

Thu, 05/28/2020 - 13:21 -- Eigen

Left, right, under, and pull

We tighten our knots woven with steel fibers

Around our bosoms

As to defy the wayward cyclopes from intruding

And to protect our childing innards

From being dashed against the rocks

In the vermillion waves hereafter

 

In the land of flames and famine

We carry with us our breasts

In them

A promise of undying

And we transport a vengeful wind

To unearth the massifs that besiege us

Allowing us to stretch

And douse those poignant, onyx blazes

With the oceans we carry atop our heads

 

Our voyage away from the land of hawks has ended

And so, we dug our fingernails into this new soil

Contorting until we shapeshift

Into that painful image of God

Effectively becoming Acacia forests

With an ancient scar tissue on our barks that mark

The plight of being born on the wrong side of the Garden of Eden

 

Though we stand elevated in our glory, we’ve exerted ourselves

To the point where we’ve no longer the privilege of study

But we’ve long since blown away our saplings

With a promising wind enchanted with dyadic ideals

Of love thy neighbor and evolve, evolve, then die

They’ll return finally to collect what is left of our wood we left for them

So that they may build fleets and explore a world unbeknownst to us

 

This poem is about: 
My family
My community

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