Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Under The Oak Tree by Wanelisa Albert

Under the oak tree
Stood my grandfather's
Great grandfather's
Amongst the sheep
And exotic fruit
To be sold
But to be fair
At a bit higher price

Under the oak tree
Stood my grandmother's
Great grandmother's
To be traded
To a master
Who would repeatedly
Rape her

Under the oak tree
Stood their child
Scared and lonely
Freshly ripped
From the beast of her mother
Living an orphaned life
In a dusty and wet dungeon
And taught the religion
Of freedom by oppressors

Under the oak tree
Stood my brother
Flogged for his quest
For emancipation: self determination
But was given a European name (klienbooi)
Skin branded with blazing iron
"Dutch East India Company"
Another gently brutal reminder
His life: White man's commodity

Under the oak tree
Stands I
Looking at the blood
Streamin from the pores of my Family Tree
Choosing to look the past boldly in the eye
And still forgive
For now I am free
Well, kinda.....

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