some places are misleading like castles embracing skies like mothersyet holding histories like grudgesunwritten in their bowels
God is this one of the castles?I remember taking the obligatory tours through Cape Coast and Elmina. You have to dig a bit through the grand narrative to get at the real truth. The smell of mold in the dungeons is still with me to this day.And it's as if the walls carry that stain. I like the way the image draws the eye upwards, one needs some breathing space after going through the museum space. There is not much sky though.
Here's a poem by Kwadwo Opoku-Agyeman:Castle Wall, wailing wallTO SLAP the past with a nameTo bring the story to its sensesTo engage the living heatTo beat urgency out of the last gaspThe familiar confessing its blank secretsFlake them for bloodFor the walls are the dust of flesh(Cape Coast Castle; Kwadwo Opoku-Agyeman Afram Publications 1996)
What a way to open a poem! Thanks for sharing it, LS.
Yeah Rob,It's one of those poems where the lines circle the title, and the title chases the lines; no real beginning/ending. Cheers
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