Poetry, Tale Africa

The Colour of Nothingness

 

By Christi Warner, Namibia

I have not contemplated an agenda

No suicidal mission

Neither is this a declaration of guilt

No need to hurry your worry

My thoughts are a rainstorm

There’s a chance of a flood

I have to get it out

So my brain cells won’t drown

Feed it to my loyal pen

Ask it to paint this hopeful white paper

With the blazing words rushing from my brain,

Eager to feed my mouth and hopefully your eyes

I have a waterfall of thoughts

Maybe keep an open mind

Or bring an extra cup

I’m quite phobic about making a mess

I’d like to talk about the darkest matter

I know this is not the time or place

But it never is

It comes unannounced anyway

I’d like to think of it as a kidnapper of essence

A disastrous scene no one can run from

Have you ever heard them say,

“He kicked the bucket peacefully”?

What could be so peaceful

about the suffocating drama of blackness?

It’s a colour so controversial

Ask apartheid about this colour

Ask me ’cause my skin

was born the colour of these words

My eyes will tell you I’m a harmless fool

And you can’t judge these words

by their colour, this colour

Anyway, I consider this dark matter

a notorious untouchable gangster

Whom you sign a contract with the minute you’re born

and with time you see its power

Mocking you by stealing the ones you love

Smirking at you, a dancing finger pointing at you

Scaring you almost out of your socks

Leaving you with just enough breath

to ask God for help

Don’t ask me why, my colour is my nature

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