giselaphoto

My Poem

 

You talk about reality

as if it was a lake

Up in the sky and a

hand where your foot is

As if the air is fire

and the clay in the soil 

home of our oxygen

You think I don´t understand

feel like a prisoner in your story

your western history of walls

You think I don´t see through

your untruths

when enjoying my own escapism

I feel the ocean

and I know your philosophy

and I hate to know

You hate me for saying that I know

Reality is the ocean on Earth

and the air that we breathe

and that the fire between us is the only thing that is

My home is the ocean

 

 

 

I can get pretty tired of myself because I build up this wall against my own blog sometimes. I have this

unnecessary pressure of writing such a good text/journal/travel-history/etc that I end up doing nothing.

 

That is why I wrote a poem instead this time. Appearantly the people of Cabo Verde, Africa, have a very rich history of poetry and literature. My poem is like a fake african poem. Written as if I was the african dude/woman and the people I speak with in the poem my controller/boss/western influence over my country. 

 

As far as concerns knowing anything ´bout Cape Verde, the small islands on the western african coast, I suggest you read about it. Me and my boyfriend spent 8 days here in april this year. And I can truly recommend this place if you need to relax and enjoy a life without stress. "NO STRESS" is also the signs you hear and see everywhere here. You will know what I mean if you ever fly here...