Thursday, January 27, 2011

Photographic memory

I was in Mississippi
my ancestors.

the most recent middle passage
called katrina
the beautiful woman
who drowned us in her sleep

katrina, marina's sister
who loved us so
who spoke in tongues
and has been gestating a new dream
giving us birth for the last five hundred years. katrina

we are ghosts, hardly a breath in cosmic time, space

here we are stepping into space, expanding without end
collapsing in on all the evil,
all the maladies,
all the suffering we took
poof, everything, everyone, gone,
not even dust to show for our pain.

My eyes are a bridge of DNA
genetic code for the sixth sun
so no one will be forgotten
so no one will become
a tear of oblivion
either we are all living
or we are all walking into the light
the dark matter of our resistance.

The headlights blind the police,
they have power.

What is power?
The State,
his armies,
his dungeons,
his death sentences,
his working class,
his nuclear weaponry,
nuclear energy?

A tsunami
will make us forget

The sun bats her eyelashes
in a flash
only she remains
staring into the space

an earthquake, a seaquake, a moon stops over swallows the sun?

[All photographs copyrights: arnoldo garcĂ­a; taken during a community solidarity delegation meetings with their counterparts in Louisiana and Mississippi, November 2005, in the aftermath of the Katrina hurricane.]