Protestation
Protestation
By B.L.P. Simmons
“They (Good and Bad) change with place, they shift with
race; and, in the veriest span of Time,
Each Vice has worn a Virtue’s crown; all
Good was banned as Sin or Crime:” “The Kassidah” by Haji Abdu e-Yezdi
I am dark, a shadow
obscure. The unseen,
the feared, unknown.
Against me the pallid are visible
a mist; we are mist and shadow.
I am hungry, it’s a crime,
but I am not the criminal.
I have no home, this is a crime,
but I am not the criminal.
I cannot read, nor write,
am I the criminal?
I have a voice, only to wail,
to shout in strangled protest.
A crime, but who is the criminal?
I, inheritor of rags and empty solicitations
am heir to an idea that diminishes,
for the lording over by strangers.
I am female, scorned mother of all life
I am child, helpless in a vast place.
I am animal, rock, plant;
I will not bend to man’s doings,
by the unseen lords of avarice.
All being appears a crime,
but who, who truly,
is the criminal, and who the judge?
B.L.P. Simmons, a semi-nomadic St. Lucian, lived and wrote in California. She now lives and writes in Costa Rica. Her writings appear on the blog Mango Musings.