by KAILANDE CASSAMAJOR
A Laughter Lined with Blades & Hibiscus
When I think of Ayiti
I can almost hear the cries
of the elderly
can almost taste the strong
savory spice,
can almost feel the touch
of calloused yet gentle hand
cupped against my ear making
way for histories to be sent right
back to me.
I see children
dark, beautiful,
knowing little yet knowing
so much at the same time,
time is no barrier for those
who suffer.
When I think of Ayiti
I can almost feel my skin
rip from itself
having made discourse with
the enemy and harvest tool
all at once and
revolutionaries call my name
to fight,
they call my name
to fight
cause when I think of Ayiti
I hear the words
“Instability” & “Valiant”
all together
over the sweet stench
of crushed fruits and
crushed bodies
under rubble
all together
meshed together
& all at once and it’s so
funny that this
Little divine glorious “hole” is where the West decides
to reap an orgasm & satisfy
itself while exploiting her and I see how
how funny it is for number 45 to look upon
her, my treasure, my family’s home, our
history, our proud, our pain, our weak, our
strong, our beauty, our ugly, our wealthy,
our poor, our human, our human, ourhuman, ourhuman ourhuman ourhumans…our
warriors that are elderly grandmothers,
Toussaints, our forefathers and Dessalines
alike and see them as nothing. It’s so damn
Funny.
Reclamation
My name is
Present
And I
Walk with
Grace
but my bones
are disjointed still.
Hover
goes my calm
out
goes my breath.
I have been here,
Yet I never was.
I have been here,
Yet I scream
In silence because
The familiarity pulls
a thousand conjured
memories
that I’m not sure really
exist
but still,
I shake in the stillness
because I can almost
feel what
I have never felt
and I believe it
Is another
me.
Another time.
reclaiming time
back
and asking with
sincerity
to accept
to believe
and Live
ever so
Fiercely.
Hold on You
I am the wind
that blew out your roof
you have neglected to mend.
I am the fire that sings
with the sun,
the heat that dances
in the stars in your eyes.
I am the light you
shield from your eyes
having forgotten what it meant
To embrace the day.
I am the night
that you yearn for,
yet hide from under the curse
of cotton’s fluff.
I am the dark you love
yet bottle in your desk.
I am the warm fuzziness
knocking to escape from your chest
and you wonder why,
Yes,
You wonder why
lately you haven’t been
able to commune
with rest.
Redemption
I imagine
an ancestor,
a woman,
collecting the ocean
under her eyes
and laughing real hard
like real hard,
letting out a real deep,
whole, full
type of laughter
when the pale one tried
to place hand
over her mouth
and command her
thighs into submission
all while unaware
that his head
was already
gone.