18 April 2012

Poverty Porn: All of Creation Groans

The following poem is by Dr Claudette Carr. It is reprinted with her permission and originally appeared in a Facebook post with the image that is also included. 


Do not preach to me your sermons on women's empowerment,
adorned in the drag of patriarchal survival of the fittest,
whilst you strip me of my right to speak of my own suffering.
Just as Jannes and Jambres, this folly shall also be revealed.
How beastly the bourgeois is,
especially the fe/male of the species.

Like Peninnah you taunt the barreness of my land,
Yet dark am I and lovely,
O daughters of African soil
dark like the tents of Kedar
like the tent curtains of Solomon.
Do not stare at me because I am dark,
because I am darkened by the sun.
My mothers sons were angry with me,
and made me take care of the vineyards;
My own vineyard I have neglected.
I have cried the bitter tears of Mara,
because more are the children
of the desolate woman,
than of her who has a husband.

A voice is heard in Somalia,
Mourning and great weeping,
Hagar weeping for her children,
and refusing to be comforted,
because her children are no more.
Daughters of Africa
do not be afraid:
You will not suffer shame.
Do not fear disgrace;
you will not be humiliated.
You will forget the shame of your youth
and remember no more
the reproach of your widowhood.
Refrain your voice from weeping
and your eyes from tears,
for your work shall be rewarded.

Why should I be like a veiled woman?
beside the flocks of your friends?

Who is this coming up from the wilderness
leaning on her lover?
I will sing for the one I love
a song about his vineyard.
My loved one had a vineyard
on a fertile hillside,
He dug it up and cleared it of stones,
and planted it with the choicest vines.
He built a watch tower in it,
and cut out the wine press as well.
Then he looked for a crop of good grapes
but it yielded only bad fruit....

The earth eagerly awaits the manifestation
of the sons and daughters of righteousness.

copyright 2012, Dr Claudette Carr

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