Escape from Cape Coast
Castle ...
For some reason, memories
of such dark places endure even when witnesses are long buried.
The smells are captured -
awful and rank, between woven threads - Kente cloth.
Stitched together, they passed
for histories and retold stories to generations of my people.
They were and are the legacies
of my kidnapped Asante cousins and past reminders.
Cape Coast Castle was our
last view of home - long gone. My ancestors cried.
Surely they mourned, when
even a place such as this, passed from view, recollection and hope.
After all, it was home for
a time, no matter how bad, and our captors were our family.
New Kente cloth wove welted
bloody backs and memories of my father's, father's ancestor's screams.
Their flesh, healed, must
have recoiled in genetic memory of what was, and passed it on.
For even now, I gaze upon
pictures and my spirit recoils from a memory not mine, but a legacy of
pain.
This pile of rocks still stands
as a reminder of lost tribes, families and unfilled potential.
Unfortunately, Cape Coast
Castle was the last view of our home, long gone. My family still
cries.
Surely they mourned, when
even a place such as this, passed from view, recollection and hope.
After all, it was home for
a minute in time...and our jailers were our family.
Histories and family roots
vanished when we passed "the door of no return" and disappeared.
My nationality and black skin
are my entitlement ... for what might have been.
Though I do not remember it
directly, I know that I must have come from proud people,
This pile of rocks still stands
as a reminder of my lost legacy..
Unfortunately, Cape Coast
Castle was the first view of my home, newly found. I cry.
Surely they mourned, when
even a place such as this, passed from view, recollection and hope.
After all, the place it stands
was home...long before it was our prison.
Who was she?
She was a flower in the desert.
Surrounded by cacti, dust
and heat...,
She bloomed and blossomed
and brought love into my life.
She stood straight and proud
in a land of multicolored dullness.
She dwarfed the Eiffel Tower
in her greatness and shamed the Louvre
With her artfully wrought
ebony features.
She created masterfully correct
concepts, and was
More insightful than the
greatest philosophers.
She had more plaited naps
than Buddha.
She was the definition and
true meaning of beauty.
She was the mold of greatness,
the cast of proper,
The graduate of right, and
she brought me your love.
Who was she?
Why love, it was you.
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