The killing of George Floyd, and the ensuing Black Lives Matter marches which highlighted the human rights violations suffered by Black Diaspora populations in the global north, ignited my poetry writing practice. Prior to this moment, my writing was mainly academic, with a focus on racialisation and health equity. The shock of the events of summer 2020, triggered a desire to capture my thoughts and feelings in poetry. I lost confidence in the language of academia. A colloquial Nigerian phrase “too much grammar” comes to mind here. This in essence, suggests academic language conceals more than it reveals. This was my existential crisis moment. This was a moment to give myself permission, to write about the subjectivities of racialisation.
I experimented with converting ideas from my academic musings into poems and to my surprise, and delight something potent evolved. The brevity and compression of ideas, made my communication direct as I was no longer concerned with cautious hedging, and the impartiality expected in academic writing. I could finally ‘speak truth to power.’
Poetry leaves no place to hide. It demands that one looks at the evidence presented and be open to what resonates with us. In this respect, I find poetry liberating, because I am a truth seeker and problem solver. I have a romantic notion, that we can do better if we want to. By design or default, if we all do better than we can continually transform our planet. I offer you my gift - Radical Self Care Manifesto.
Radical:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Self-Care:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Manifesto:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
racialised as black
while
researching
race
the past
is always
present
stamped
in black
always
redacted
as each text
leaps off the page
assaults our senses
because of our heritage
nervous systems
snarl
immune systems
groan
jagged
what a burden
what a joy
from the margins
to the front line
holding the line
we go round
and round
in circles
missing the centre
like a
tipsy spirograph
trying to
walk a straight line
yet we carry the load
till we become
the load
hypnotised
I dream of
doing my best
as I collect
your thoughts
in raised fist
- bullet point
everything is the same
while nothing is the same
they say something is always missing
they make us seem hollow
they make us seem flat
although we are
not black as black
selective sight
makes them
blind as bats
as they weave
spells of beautiful
white spots
attempted erasure
can never bring closure
- Indefinitely
weight we matter
because we are moved to
< >intern< >
<>in ter polate<>
< >in ter cala tion< >
<>in ter cala tor<>
< >in ter locu tor< >
pause
after the storm
I taste sweet san.CT. U. ary
pause
earth rests
scan
time re sets
scan
time to sit
ischial tuberosity has such a lovely ring doesn’t it
sit bones
find there
fingerprints
in the snow
erect
serene
senile
still life dead
we breathin::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
–six—-five-four———–three--
two–one ……………………andhold
observe molecules of self-love
shimmer and sway through
your lungs
we breath out::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
–six-five-four————–three-
two-one :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
behold
be bold
feel
the
rhythmic
joy
as
nano
mists
of
epi/genetic
racial
trauma
and pain
uncoil/
\uncoil
uncoil/
bounce
through
time
today
enter the center of Afrocentric Wellness
Iwaju
here we are revitalised * I am still
here we are refreshed * I am so grateful
here we breathe with ease* I am not hateful
here we are(re)humanised here we rest our best
we seal radical
we ooze self-care
we manifest manifesto
àṣẹ