When I Think of Forgiveness

A fatalist thought... with teeth.

Tonight, I feel consumed by anger. Frustrastion. Impotence. I feel powerless, like someone stole my voice and I’m dying to get a scream out. I am thinking of my sister. Only twenty-one years old and having to surmount things no one ever prepares you for. I am thinking of my mother, the times she has been harmed and shamed for her outspoken nature, shoved aside by society for her honesty and bravery to stand up for people and things most would prefer to keep quiet about. Sometimes fighting for justice feels like pushing against a current that deceives you, takes you on a whirlwind and before you know it you’re gasping for air and unable to push back. The water is deep, your feet can’t reach the surface and you just hope for a painless descend off the mountains.

Such a fatalist thought.

But again, if the outcome cannot be changed, and there is no power left to fight it any longer, I must surrender to the inevitable. I tend to try and imagine different endings to the story. I am reminded of my sister’s smile and my mum’s laughter. I believe there to be good in the world, even at times when I’m hurting and all I wish is to sleep for hours on end.

This is not the typical thing I share. But I feel angry. I feel like writing it all out and see what becomes of this emotion that plagues me. Anger is good. Anger must be felt. It is there that lies the power to stand up for oneself and others, to grow some poetic teeth and set some boundaries. To build resilience and bring about new order.To uncover all of the societal garbage we like to shove under the rug. Amiri Baraka, as a poet, as a revolutionary and a man who searched for justice and liberation once said,

‘Poems are bullshit unless they are teeth…’

Well, it made me want to show mine. My set of poetic teeth. Ones that are sharp, grand and edge cutting. And yet, that wish to do no harm, but simply voice all that that has been silenced. For as much anger as I feel, I also feel Love. The alchemical power of Love is that it can mold that anger into forgiveness, compassion, growth. Right now, that is all I am wishing for.

For her, for me, for all.

I leave you with this piece I wrote and question(s),

Can anger be purposeful? Where does yours go to?

Love Always,

♥

A POEM -

‘When I think of Forgiveness’

I think of them -

Those whom I love the most.

I think of the person who violated my sister - I wonder how I’m supposed to look at his humanity when he stripped my beloved family of theirs.

He undressed her and I must forgive.

I think of the times my mother has cried,

When she was hurt by lovelessnes, divorce, loneliness.

I think of the times she sat in her car after school hours to wait for us.

She also waited outside his house a month after it occurred.

She sat and called the police,

She watched him open the door and notice her.

-

When I think of forgiveness,

I think of my father.

I remember his volatile nature and his (whimpering) cries in the car.

I think of the times I laughed and mocked another.

The times I made someone feel sad, embarrased or angry.

I think of the times I lied to get ahead,

The times I chose greed over Love,

Selfishness over Love,

Apathy over Love.

When I think of forgiveness,

I think of myself -

Thirteen years old and laying on the bathroom floor flooded in tears and blood.

I think of the heavy heart I used to carry,

weighted down by the lovelessness, the sadness and fear.

When I think of forgiveness, I think of oppression.

I think of the separation of a nation that was never only one thing;

A ray mix of cultures, languages,

Of skins and textiles.

I think of the river.

Darkness of water,

dressed in carcasses and harshness.

Polluted, corroded, steady.

I remember the flowing sounds of mountainous springs.

When I think of forgiveness, I hear the ocean.

Burning black sand and collisions of currents.

Enourmous waves of salt, moonlight and water.

-

When I think of forgiveness,

I write with precision but tremble.

I count the words and syllables for measure -

And still,

there’s pressure.

Because..

When I speak of forgiveness,

I learn and feel what it means to live in a world where shame isn’t nature.

Acceptance is cared for,

and hearing is no longer an echo.

Didn’t the lord say so?

Forgiveness is prayed for, led by and welcomed.

Forgiveness is what I’m thinking of -

For myself and the rest of us.

Forgiveness… please, help us.

Forgive often. Better. Now.