Archive for queerness

Poem: LEGACY

Posted in Original Writing with tags , , , , , , , , on August 31, 2017 by smuckyproductions

I wrote a version of this poem a long time ago, and it felt like the time to put it out there. Not all history, not all legacies, are something to be proud of. 

LEGACY

Dimming, grandfather requests
“Have kids while I can still
speak their name.”
I tell him I’ll try.

My constitution does not permit
ruining his notion with my prophecy
That our name dies in my loins
made to seek peace in
things he would wither to think of

For some grandfather, exponential greats
took arms to smear his seed in this soil
sprinkled on the bones of children
snapped to pieces by invader teeth that
gnash in ecstasy at their righteous carnage
drag their white worms to claim this
stolen ground as they have committed
an act worth celebrating –

This is my legacy.
This is what dies with me.

And what if it withers?
What is pride when boiled in that blood
of children who never got to choose
between silence and gloating?
This scaffold of corpses around a rotting cross
who refuse to really die –
whisper from dirt at beating hearts
grandfather’s, father’s, and mine
but my ears are stopped, jaw soldered
against harmonizing with them
but against rebellion, too.

In my way I lie in the plot beside him
and sew my silence in kind.

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