Creative Response - Distant Memory

Creative Response – Distant Memory

This shaky cliff top I stood upon overlooking the baby blue oceans

The breeze of the uncertainty of the coconut and palms trees made me shift uncomfortably

Barefoot, naked to the eye wanted to be covered from my shame

My grass kiekie woven with tears of my ancestors wrapped me with insecurities

My covered chest wanted to bust into the movement of the west

No longer wanting to dance in purity

Wanting to be a savage with the African beat infused with the harmonics of a European keyboard

The shaky cliff swayed in the direction of my emotions,

I was no longer firmly rooted as much as I thought I was.

The great controversy began in my mind

My feet kept from leaping into the tears of my elder

But my sun kissed tanned hand wanted to welcome the great fall into this form of acceptance

But why were my mind and feet in unison?

They were not budging; they refused to fall at the mercy of this distant memory

Memories that were not mine played in mind

The great escape out of the luva

The tree where we would meet

My lover and I.

The sacrificing tears and scars of a wounded mother

Preparing a table with one piece of kumala, one piece of lu to feed 13 children.

The early morning rising, running to meet my father at the wharf

Hands ready to receive the white passengers who came in the name of the Lord

Here on a mission.

Being sent to the main island to study

The rejection of the English classes that could estate a bright future,

Wagging on stretch of denial and hate

These were not mine,

I never found myself in this situation.

I never took the road less travelled on, yet I was here.

The shaky cliff I remained

The calls of my “past” were becoming unbearable

They were mourning, whaling my name for me to hear in hopes that I would make the return.

Looking into the raging waters as they hit my shaky cliff I turned my back to them

And I embraced the steady green ground of the long white cloud.

The tears of promise left my eyes

I vowed to make the return

So that my memory was no longer the distant one they spoke of.

This is a response to the poem Distant memory written by Rev Pua Strickson Mua. Ashleigh and I presented this poem for our group presentation. 

I wanted to further explain why I responded from this point of view. My poem expresses my inner thoughts and issues that I face when deciding whether to make a return back to the land of my parents. As an islander who was predominately raised in New Zealand, I struggled with finding where I belong. Which is why I wrote in this manner, it was a confrontation of my own thoughts and beliefs. I actually thought that I was firmly rooted in who I was and where I came from, but reading this poem brought doubt to my mind. I did not know anything about my heritage, I don't even speak the language and up to that point not knowing these things never really bothered me. That was when I realized there was a battle that I had to deal with where I am now and what I call home and where I'm from and where I belong. But I do promise to return and make that connection, but not now.