For two centuries they dragged those unsuspecting souls,
some in shock unaware of the happening;
some kicking and screaming,
down the Gambia River.
Some 12.5 million disquieted,
forced toward foreign lands.
They knew not the gravity of the situation;
nor what the future held.
They knew not the diaspora
that would descend upon them.
Then, a concoction was conceived.
Diluting and compromising.
Whitening south of the border.
Mixed and stirred with evil machinations
until no one could remember.
Poured from its false narrative a new colorless life;
light and unassertive, hoping to acclimate and calm
the mumbles, then rising inquiries.
A drop of heritage from different continents
they infused into my being,
hoping I too would not dissect the truth.
The way home is far.
I know not where to begin.
For they destroyed the records;
haphazardly documented crucial details;
and intentionally omitted their true names.
Time untold has passed.
But the truth has a way of navigating through the trees.
Casting long shadows while the weight of the branches
burdened with the aggressors' transgressions
could no longer hold the deceit.
The light has no other choice but to shine through.
There, hair like black velvet, ebony skin,
dark as midnight with smoldering eyes
underneath crowns of glory and sacrifice
chiseled into bodies of steel,
glistening in the fiery, midday sun.
No worries, centuries upon centuries
hardened their journey,
as they stood proud in their heritage.
No one can completely obscure forever
that which was etched in the earth
from the beginning.
Make no mistake!
The order was implicit. It came from the top.
A vain attempt stirred and gained ground to
erase my ancestors from history,
simply because they refused to genuflect.
But we descendants also refused to withdraw
from what we've stood up for
these centuries past.
Our indomitable resolve to uncover and
rediscover the heritage that was hidden away.
Let's hope it's only a season, fur the future will indeed fall bleak.
Harken! Delve too deep and you may find yourself
next to me.
Their beginning.
Mine.
And
Yours.
Our Family Tree Exposed.
A Poem in Remembrance of June 19th (known as Juneteenth) I wanted to share for my current mixed media art project. I hope my design reveals the story of my poem.
Below are my procedures for the design. I included several interesting images I felt portrayed the meaning of the holiday from my perspective. I utilized Canva, my design program, to blend the images. Tools to remove backgrounds, detach sections from backgrounds, resize, colorize, filter, duplicate, and reposition items as required were essential in completing my design. I retrieved the female with a text description from Ideogram.
Female ~ Fantasy tree ~ African Kings ~ Steps ~ Fiery skyline.
Good luck everyone with whatever your endeavors.
SUPPORTS THESE COMMUNITIES:
SOURCES:
a) JustClickindiva's Footer created in Canva utilizing its free background and images used with permission from discord admins.
b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/
i) The Atlantic Slave Trade. History.Com. Online at: https://www.history.com/articles/what-part-of-africa-did-most-slaves-come-from
English is my native language.
If translation included, I use DeepL to assist my readers.
Thanks for your patience an understanding.
El inglés es mi lengua materna.
Si se incluye traducción, utilizo DeepL para ayudar a mis lectores.
Gracias por su paciencia y comprensión.
