Ghosts of My Ancestors

 As I pass by the Cane Fields and the Banana Walks, 

I see the Ghosts of My Ancestors.

As I pass by the Factories and the Beaches by the Docks, 

I hear the voices of my Ancestors. 
In your society, 

Your snobbish piety, 

I see the Ghosts of My Ancestors.
In the Air, in the Music,

In the Poems,

I hear the voices of My Ancestors. 
Bartered, battered as Slaves 

Scorned, mascaraded as knaves. 

Mistreated, misused by your 

Misguided brutes, abused. 

Scarred skin 

Testament of your hatred 

Canvas to your vitriol agitated. 

Their spirituality, emaciated.

Their very Beings, denigrated.
But the Truth is naked,

Fully unclothed. 

Underestimated, 

Yes bully, the loathed.
As I pass by the Cane Fields and the Banana Walks, 

I see the Ghosts of My Ancestors. 

Exciting in me

A burning rage, 

A raging Love! 

A Love fire, a burning desire.

A purpose. A will.

A Tempest. Yes!
As I pass by the Factories and the Beaches by your Docks, 

I hear the voices of My Ancestors.

Inciting. Inviting me to riot.

To live. 

To live free!

To be free! 

To be. 

To give. 

To share the things I hear 

From My Ancestors.
See our chains, 

Drenched in blood? 

This must never be repeated! 

See our sweat, 

Soaked to mud?

Yet no food, no land, no home?

This must never be repeated! 

See our Families, 

Torn apart and divided? 

This must never be repeated! 

See our name, our acclaim, 

Removed, then put to shame? 

This must never be repeated! 

See our History, 

Manipulated and plundered, 

Discounted and skewered ? 

This must never be repeated!
But first, 

Injustice must be unseated.

Uprooted.

Unrooted, 

As we were.
Scattered in the wind, 

Far and wide, 

Unseated.

Taken from our homes, 

A Motherland, Our Motherland,

Their Motherland!

Uprooted. 

Exiled: 

Violently.

Broken in, like animals;

Violently. 

Stripped of our history, 

Our pride, our self-worth, our self-esteem;

Violently.

Unrooted. 
Till we re-rooted. 
Made these places OUR homes. 

Homes away from Home. 

Till some of us got comfortable. Till you reminded us, this is not our home. 

This is not our place. 

It is your place. 

Your Race. Your space. 

Your case. 

We’re still here to serve.

To serve you.

Your Gods.

Your purpose.
Yes, this is what I feel, 

As I pass by your Cane Fields 

And your Banana Walks. 

These are the emotions I feel 

As I pass by your Factories and the beaches by your docks.
Pained.

Enslaved.

Abused.

Scarred.

Naked.

Loathed. 

Enraged.

Outraged.

Engaged. 

Disengaged.  

Incited.

Excited. 

Tempested.

Tempted. 

Drenched. 

Skewered.

Manipulated.

Discounted. 

Unseated.

Uprooted.

Unrooted. 

Rerouted.

Rerooted. 

Unnamed. 

Renamed.

Booted.

Rebooted. 

Truthed. 
So, be wary of me; 

For whenever I pass by your Cane Fields and your Banana Walks and your Factories and your Beaches by your Docks; 

I’m liable,  and quite able, 

To say something, 

To do something, 

To be something;

SOMETHING VIOLENT!

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