I am from the Butter Ration, the Flour Tax, the Scarce Tongues
From the laden fields thick with dark sugar, cut with darker hands
and the great injustice of that island in the sun.
I am from the sickly scent of the Rum, goose-neck waxed bottles.
Long in the tooth, witness to horrors and pride.
From the thinnest trails off western coasts, memory exhales still
From the salt hewn rocks and lonely cedar refusing to be killed
From his mother’s mouth like a river came the sound of wind in grass
She saw an eagle catch a fish, the sun dawn on its face at last
I am from the Huckleberry, eaten while in stride
I am of the open palm that beckons you inside
I am of the moving eats, the dates that go down smooth
Of being told to sit, be still and stop playing with your food
Thank you for reading. I’m very excited to see everyone’s poems. My name is Matthew and I grew up in so called “Vancouver.” I am descended of Barbadian sugar growers and rum makers on my dad’s side. It is a history I am still learning to grapple with. My grandmother grew up in London during the Second World War. She describes vividly the rationing system and how it has affected her cooking. She makes the most delicious food from the most meager ingredients. I am a hiking guide year round, but mainly in the summers. Many a meal has been mostly berries found on the trails meandering along coastal cliffs. I feel connected to food and the many ways it informs my relationships and history. I know this course is going to deepen that understanding. I’m very much looking forward to it.
I really appreciate what you did with the poem’s form, Matthew. The longer phrases, use of punctuation, rhyme, and enjambment create a beautiful flow that made me want to read your piece out loud. I found it poignant that your poem communicates regret about the colonial past and its ongoing effects, but also gratitude and affinity with the land. This was just a lovely read. Thanks for sharing, and very glad to have you in the class!
Hello Matthew,
This is a beautiful poem. I love that you brought your own form and style to this, and the rhyme was brilliant! The vivid imagery and vulnerability throughout this piece allowed me to see every image, to feel the complicated emotions (especially in Stanza 1), and I could almost taste berries freshly picked off the side of a Western trail.
It is not easy to grapple with one’s own history. As you mentioned in your comment under my poem, we both wrote about sugar cane–after reading your poem, I am left thinking about the juxtaposition in growing sugar cane (associated with sweetness, pleasure, joy) in oppressive contexts like slavery. Harvesting sweetness while suffering…
See you soon in class!
Hi Matthew, the three stanzas all showed different topics related to your origin. It is a “big” poem which contains lots of different information and ideas. You used metaphor in the second stanza, making the environment vividly “express” their feelings. I can feel the importance of the West Coast to you as the hiking guide (very cool!). In addition, the first stanza listed several items related to the life of Barbados, not only representing the identity but also revealing a piece of history that cannot be forgotten.