Blood Leaves, Elephants and Flowers- The Return of My Muse by Zigz
On January - 14 - 2010
Thanks to fellow blogger EmpressDoms from over at The Wickedest Time for the encouragement in keeping up the ‘Poetic’ section. While it is my intention to keep this as n entertainment and social commentary blog, the ‘poetic’ and ‘politickin’ sections are there for my random personal views to be expressed.
This is a piece I wrote in 2007 when I found my way to a creative muse. It speaks for itself:
Experiences can be taken as the lessons of life. So whatever it is that one does, one needs to gain a lesson from it.Writing used to be my outlet. I say used to be because I haven’t been writing as much as I once did or even should be now. Just livin’ and thinkin’ without much literature. Come to think of it, I haven’t been readin’ much other than school work.
What is it that made the muse missin’ in my mind, moreover, what made my muse minimize in my heightZ, and leave me without that light, that might, that potency and power and in the scheme of all things i think i found it in that yellow flower………….Yesterday was a day that was well spent and important to my life. Who knew that the land that I have been walking through was a slave plantation, only looking much different because of its new buildings and modernization. I spent the day with, Janessa who had been at the college before me. We drove to one of the nearby towns but we really wanted to chill at school. I had heard of ‘The Elephant Tree’, but didnt know what the raas it was, so she said she would show it to me. As we walked the grounds she told me why it was called the ‘Elephant Tree’. Halfway into the story she gasped and said “Z look, i’ve never seen it with Blood Red Leaves!!!”, I followed her around the corner and immediately i knew why it is called the ‘Elephant Tree’. Whether because of the season, or the reason that I was there, this tree was bloody red, all I did was stare.A tree in a yard not closely surrounded by other trees, standing obviously different from the others. The Leaves had the colour of rich blood- exposed to the open air, broken from skin. The closer I walked to it the more I realized that the ground I was standing on knew the blood and last footsteps of many of the Afrikans brought to the U.S and the high high branches that I was about to be beneath were used to lynch a great deal of my family whose lives were never their own. The Branches, they looked like the trunks of an elephant but this elephant seemed to have a thousand trunks spewing the blood of those seperated at this spot and century years of sorrow.
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- A Priest pours Libation the for Ancestors or more commanly ‘pours a lil liquor for the dead homies’ (Yes, it does have meaning and is not jus some hip hop fad)
The overwhelming feelings that moved within and around me, this language does not have the capacity to explain.The only thing I felt like knowing was what was my true-true name. I wondered of those fated to this spot and did they complain, when they were damned to die, did they feel their lives were in vain. What are their true-true names, these people we only know as slaves, who are their people who are all over in chains, what happened to those who were left in Africa to mourn. These are the same ones today we look at with scorn, only because we feel we are better born; HOW? when from our life-line we were torn. To fetch, feed, farm, fuck and forlon????
To bleed and die- the tree with the red leaves.
My body became filled with a tide that brought me so close to my roots my feet touched Mother’s Shore.
And it was all in that yellow flower that I found my clutch. The yellow flower, placed in praise, by an anonymous praiser who showed me that I AM NOT THE ONLY ONE!!! Someone shares my vision of vitality from the strength of our ancestors. In honouring the honourable. Respecting the Respectable. Moving towards a trod that enables the prosperity and life more abundant that is ours.
I luv my life, and I know that it has to be livicated to so much more than just me. For in that bloody red elephant tree, i saw my body and I saw that I am key, and in the yellow flower I see what I want to be………..
Thanx J, my environmentalist/naturalist/herbalist sister
© 2010 T_Thought Productions ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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- J and I representing The Crack Den, yeah…I said Crack (you’ll hear more about that soon)
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EmpressDoms Says:
::snapping my fingers::
Wow, next time you visit the elephant tree, pls take a pic!
Posted on January 14th, 2010 at 5:14 PM
Admin Says:
Will do!! Thanks!!
Posted on January 15th, 2010 at 8:29 AM