Excerpt for reMembering Mulatta by Christy Sampson-Kelly, available in its entirety at Smashwords

reMembering Mulatta

By Christy Sampson-Kelly

Copyright 2011 Christy Sampson-Kelly

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Cover Textile Art 2011 Genevieve Sampson

*****
Dedication

This is dedicated to my rebelliously reasonable parents for going against the script and obliterating, for me, this notion of choosing. Through their gracious allowance of my existence and growth within my in-between-ness, I continually become without diminishing any one of my-selves.
*****

Table of Contents

Section 1: Once Bound
Manuscript
I Hope not to be Forgotten
Knowing
The Exchange of a Whisper

Section2: Mis-placed
Come Home
A Cry in the Dark
Deflecting Truth
Vulnerability
Lass
Observation
A Love not of this Earth
Sleepless Night

Section 3: Re-dis-cover(y)
Ensueño
Other-Than-Tragic Mulatta
Sigh
Re-birth
Unfinished Visits by Accident

Section 4: Repentance
Junior High Cafeteria
Many
Choice
Wish
Arrears
Back Seat Meditation
Deliverance

Section 5: A Reclaiming
Waking in Winter
The Poetics of Progeny
Sacrificial Mounds
This Day
Ei's Fire
Forgotten Bodies
Vision of Cailleach
Mosaic
Death of the Great Writer


Section 1: Once Bound

Manuscript

In ever changing conversation
collectively
we delve into present realities,
new awareness exposed.

In repetition,
boredom erased,
- more awe
- more wonder
- more dis-covered.

The weightless thread
that attaches my-self
to original understanding
still welcome.

Its litheness
compels past re-turns
fresh with possibility,
unwritten the time before.

I Hope not to be Forgotten

Where do I fit
in this mended world
stitched together by my people?

This world
of beautiful mahogany
so smooth and rich
one could get lost
in the feel of it.

This world
of dark knowing eyes
with knowledge so deep
that diving in
merely allows one
to tread at its surface.

This world
of thick, dense kinks
cropped short
revealing intricacy,
strength of character.

Where do I fit
with my buttery complexion
and devilish eyes,
with my overabundance
of sandy colored curls?

This I ask
in full support
of the reclaiming,
as mere reminder
that I exist.

Knowing

The twist of thinking’s experience
begins belief’s meander
for transcendent conceivers,
inescapably great thinkers.

While sauntering in gracious anticipation
of the welcoming,
understanding’s verdant reach
acceptance’s embrace.

Pondering how unmistakably heart-wrenching
it is to know.

The Exchange of a Whisper

somehow
it is different
although i can’t be sure

my moves
definitely more intended
carefully constructed
to reveal only my true self

entering
it is unadulterated black
the moonless night
of a veiled village

troubled
i step in neither direction
for fear of losing

gently
a cool breeze
carrying your voice
tantalizes my spirit
reaching far inside
to existing places forgotten

drawing me deeper
i let it lead me

the essence of those
entering before
rushes through me
offering promises
escorting warnings

images of my own experience
so meticulously concealed
confront me
urging my retreat

reaching with-in
you are there
eyes, penetrating
skin, glistening sable

coming closer
We touch
and suddenly –
all is lucid.

Section 2: Mis-placed

Come Home


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