An Africa in Everyone

Author: • May 7, 2017 • Poems

© NASA Goddard Space Flight Center via Flickr.comWho is the Black in me

That is tainted with white blood and alternate stories of oppression,

Grown pale under the glare of the grey northern light

And is as red as the people whose composure reflects

The vastness of this place, when rushing in winter’s cold.

 

Where is the Black in me

That is in love with the cold and wild wet

Of these rolling hills, granite cliffs, fens and barren spaces,

That thrives under crooked stunted conifers and suffocates

On the dry arid plains.

 

Why does the Black in me

Feel as ridiculous, as the New Yorker in March green

Sulking in his Celtic-knotted Ratzkeller,

Who knows glass towers and ashy alleyways,

Over the beauty of Connemara, Connaught

And the imagined west side of the island.

 

Is the Black in me because

Every time a low buzz is heard crossing my path

An internal drum beats back to a place free from toil

That is equal, open and loving

Yet powerful in its awe and sublimity,

That in the quietest of voices I reluctantly

Call this place Africa.

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About the Author

Cecile's Writer: Art BoumanAuthor: Art Bouman

Country of Residence: Canada

Nationalities: Canadian, German and Barbadian

Mother Tongues: English and German

Art Bouman is a Canadian born, German-Barbadian writer. He has spent many years of his life travelling throughout North America, the Caribbean, Europe, Africa, and South America, but he is based out of Halifax, Canada. Growing up in a culture and climate that is totally removed from both his Afro-Caribbean, and European heritages, the search for a cultural identity is a central theme in his writing.


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