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 is 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

  • Author: Garth Rakumakoe (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 8th, 2022 13:55
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views:

Comments4

  • Rocky Lagou

    Wow. Great poem! Identity is such an elusive thing for some people and it could be hard to get a grip on it. Nicely written!

    • Garth Rakumakoe

      Thank you Rocky. I am very humbled. Much, much appreciated.

    • Jay-Lee Jane

      a powerful write 🙂

      • Garth Rakumakoe

        I am humbled fellow writer. Thank you.

      • Rozina

        Great lines indeed.

        • Garth Rakumakoe

          Thank you, gifted one. I am glad they are well received. Many thanks.

        • L. B. Mek

          ... to walk upon
          and pave a path, of your own!
          (these reads so, sincere
          I can relate to having a duality of faith
          in one household
          where cultural traditions, sit
          like stranded water
          on that oil of structured religion..
          a great write! and really like these lines:)
          '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'

          • Garth Rakumakoe

            Thank you LB! A resounding synopsis sir.



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