Garth Rakumakoe

Tree Of Identity

My mother committed a felony

calling me Tyrone

My father’s customs how can I forget

when five wives he had

 

He spoke when to the mountain

I refused to go

Today the tree of my identity grows

but its soul remains cold, lost, and broke

Tear these useless lungs of mine away

from chain smoking send my spirits back

to cave dwelling I wish not

to be catholic anymore

 

The battle in my brain gives in

to the gods of bones them sinners

that worship ancestors not allowed

anywhere near cathedrals, evil

to his highness the pope

 

My nostrils weren’t meant

for this dope break my nose

Trace by it the scattered remains

of my hopes, I’m a deep thinker

my thoughts are the clay in my brains

that me mold

 

By your mirror only darkness shows

my face does not, take it back -

Take it back and release

my grandfather’s cattle from your hold

your words I hear there’s no need

to scold I’m a deep thinker that feels

how such empty miseducated portraits

yearn for newly educated souls

 

Burn down Tyrone’s tree of identity

the day my eyes close, in search

of home, in search

of my spilt hopes

scattered, as pebbles

of stone