The poet asked: What is Africa to me ?
My answer remembers the cruelest seas
not from the beauty of cliffs and shores
but from dank chambers, iron that scored
the chestnut skin, or golden hues
rainbows in dungeons, became old news;
for I wonder now how we would feel
to unload human cargo from a modern keel.
On the docks in Chicago, New York, or Baltimore
by precious pound, "sold!" in auctioned uproar.
Say again ? what is Africa to me ?
This diaspora across a wide, wide sea
we planted life as seeds in bartered soil
paid for by hard lives taken in brutal toil.
Unrequited was the love of our own hands
no honored Kings, traded across desert sands.
Passed on like paper wealth to titled paler faces
usurpers of many others' rightful places;
thieves of lives, mere babes and woman's pains
sires of children then shamelessly chained.
So, this is Africa to me, a disconnected history
a challenge raised on mean streets in cities
drifted away from small family farms,
to feed the rich man's new-day of harms.
War and deliverance came hand in hand
they persevered to the place I now stand.
Remembered still the ships of Portugal and Spain
France, England, Dutch so many taps at the drain
of Mother Ethiopia, whose wings were forced wide
her essence adrift on so many mourning tides.
Yes, this too is Africa to me: a place before memory
a link that was joined by chains, by an unfelt history.
But I will call her Mother still, my veins filled
with love she gave; and though lips have long stilled
who remember the Sun before the fall of days,
I love her shadow, it is on my skin, and in my ways.
I cannot call the Nubian my kin, nor the Ashanti dear friend,
Swahili does not raise night visions I'd comprehend.
Savannah's not more welcome than Harlem rails of steel
brightly beaded Zulu dance to drums I cannot feel...
Ibo, Hausa, Bushmen, red-robed Maasai, Moslem, Bedouin, Arab
Black Pharoahs in glory, Anubis, Isis and sacred scarabs;
roar of lions in fearsome night, crush of behemoths and Tusks,
aroma of Moroccan spices, delights of traded scents and musk;
all have left my empty hands before i was gathered in new lands
with many sisters, mothers, strong brothers, to waste on strange sands.
Now I will write the empty page, for life is my stage
to play the part I wish I had been given; oh, this age
when reason is a treason of fact; we love the mirror too
it tells me true, I belong many places, yes, Africa, yet to you.
Author notes
A Conundrum
http://oldpoetry.com/opoem/41763-Countee-Cullen-Heritage
In a list
A contest entry
- "School's Out for Summer" Round 3 by CitrineSunrise.
1500 points, ended August 27, 7 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
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CONGRATULATIONS ON RIGHTFULLY EARNING THE GOLD CHALICE!
It is well deserved! I am sure Countee Cullen would be ever so proud of your work as inspired by his. I have set out on several occasions to speak to this poem. I have know its contents for the better part of two decades, and here you have made my wish come true with your words. I am esteemed and honored that you thought of me while writing this exceptional work. I added Countee Cullen to OP some four or five years ago. I am glad that his poetry is just a click away. You have written a classic poem here dear scholar. Thank you for sharing this with me, it leaves me filled with excitement, and the reality of whence we came, to the point of finally arriving. And you are on to Round 4! I am rooting for you.
Blessings & Love Always ♥
Renee
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Again, I've been keeping up with this contest, hoping to see your deserved award here. Well done!
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No surprise to see gold here. Oh I am soooo pleased. Congratulations.
~Pamela
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Thank you Pamela~
Once in a while we get to write something that is truly on our minds...thanks for all...PK
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This is an amazing poem, perhaps one of the best I've read this or any other year. I honestly believe you have taken Cullen's poem to a higher level and you will someday have a place among the greats at OldPoetry. From the first line I knew who had written this outstanding work, and I was in awe. I know you usually write in freeverse, but your use of rhyme was so well done. I thought the inclusion of the various tribes and peoples of Africa was powerful and it helps illustrate that Africa is not a homogenous continent but a blend of many ideologies and cultures. Of course the forced emigration of so many to serve the needs of so few is one of history's greatest blights, and you have showcased this admirably. PK this is a masterpiece. Thank you for sharing this with all of us. Peace, Liz
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thank you Liz-
I can say that the question came to me, and the answer so clearly. The version I showed to Mari in draft did not change much afterwards and to this time. I think once in a while we hit a subject that is important to us, and then wish every subject reached or touched us this way.
Thank you for hosting the contest, for your most kind and generous words, and also to recognize how wonderful it is that you give your time and energy to the writers here, to offer a chance to write and grow. Thanks for all that you do in this series...PK
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Bravo! Standing In Applause!
"Yes, this too is Africa to me: a place before memory
a link that was joined by chains, by an unfelt history."
and there is where my heart sank, knees crumbled and tears wept as I drifted through history in your words, and power-filled hope.
Brilliant verse that has moved me to the core dear poet. Always, when I read your work, I am moved to learn SO MUCH MORE.
Thank you for this.
This IS Brilliant and moving poetry.
~Pamela
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Thank you Pamela-
Yes i know you appreciate the wonderful wisdom of old poetry too, the paths we walk now are different but the ideas and choices, many are the same...and an inspiration, Thank you for your kind words and lovely comments...PK
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To write with so much passion about places, sights, happenings, people that you have never been, gazed, experienced or seen...that is when feelings that come from deep inside guide the hands that write a poem, the voice that speak of all those things.
You did it here, and did extremely well!
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Thank you Mari-
for your wonderful words here but also for your comments and ideas in draft too. Yes, you are right this was written from a feeling and the question that cannot really be answered: what is one's heritage, the place you know, or the place that knew your ancestors. African-Americans are connected by so much and yet in another sense so little to Africa. This is one I enjoyed, a journey of the mind in a sense. Thanks for many things...h
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Timber that I thought was wet Burning like the dryest fax, Melting like the merest wax, Lest the grave restore its dead. Not yet has my heart or head In the least way realized They and I are civilized.
I was enthralled, absolutely lifted into something that you know, you made me know it, and feel it for myself. I am stunned, really. Honestly you had me in tears when I read this:
But I will call her Mother still, my veins filled
with love she gave; and though lips have long stilled
who remember the Sun before the fall of days,
I love her shadow, it is on my skin, and in my ways.
...and it kept going from there.
You speak of what you are unable to do, a feeling of loss or displacement, that is somehow superceded by her draw, her kinship, so that, in fact you accomplish the very thing that you lack. I'm not saying the speaker will be dreaming in Swahili or anything, only that... what makes Africans dream in the first place has found him and wrestles him.
The poem is exquisite. The allusions to the tribes, the sites, the practices, the animals... all so EXTREMELY intense.
So much more to compliment, but truly, words would fail... And that is not a copout (you know I'm long winded) it's just that I am nodding my head and just so stricken by it all.
This is the real thing, right here. No question of that.
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Thank you-
for reading the question(Cullen) and the answer here. I think despite the difference in time there were some similarities in the answers. And the conclusion is inevitable, but so much depends on the journey...so much depends on the way we find to reach these ideas. Thank you...PK
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Nice poem structure...great rhyming...
Very interesting poem. I enjoyed it very much.
I would be visiting all these countres...some day...
different languages...different cultures....
Thanks for sharing your talent with us.
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Thank you Karina-
I don't write much in rhyme anymore, once in a while it is good to see if i still can do it... Thanks for all...PK
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This is a wonderful as you put it 'diaspora' of a continent that despite never having been inside her, she dwells inside you and always will. It's an unconscious thing to feel the pull of a motherland so deeply and what makes the African people as a nation so proud, much more so than we as whites could ever hope to be C
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Thank you Chez-
It is an emotional subject, yes?
I think you are right there will be a way of seeing things based on culture, and perspective depends so much on how the feelings are touched..harshly or tenderly...by an idea; and pride, yes, i think that is where we find equality...everyone should be proud of the people and things that brought them to this place and time...Thanks for all...PK
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Beautiful, Poet Man. Good luck in the contest.
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Thank you Wanda-
Sometimes we write what is truly on our minds...thanks for all ...PK
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