Untitled Poetic and Imagery


 

1, 6

Stream

Like water, meets a sun I’ve never known

Never grown to see or feel

To be

To think on my own, what I understand to be mine

Gazed upon the current as I ponder what I believe would be an untimely escape

We imagine a death beyond the river, for I do not wish to die here.

My life world embedded in each curl, in each pore

This untimely transit knows no time and arrests it

Above the water and beneath the soil

Beneath my scalp

Such a story flows

For every knot in my hair could fully know.

 

Six of us came shackled and afraid

once at the shores of another planet to us it seemed but rather

only across an ocean and broken off to the river

on a dainty boat that read Carolina on the side

painfully hurdling itself across

the rivers and the streams

the blood to the vein and the vein to the capillary

i begin to wonder that this water echoes my character and what I could be

that we may be birthed into and thus taken away

in Water

more than my own blood and

each strand of hair that breaks the surface of my skin

ripped apart

 

Destroyed

yet to be washed up and forgotten

hopefully to someone else or someone else that might unfold much later

balled up and

curled and fainted

the sun hurts more than it makes me feel good

i only speak and hear in Black

there is no sense of direction

and with no direction, no self, and no nourishment

it’s cold, suddenly hotter than a furnace and

i can’t tell should the water on my face be tears or sweat and what might make me

cry might be what makes your pale face smile

 

this was the perfect river

the perfect death in an imperfect water

in line to the land in which perfection meets time

to write the perfect crime that history has revealed us

made us

made me

 

destroyed

 

-A photo series by Aundrey Jones and Daniel Racz. Poem by Aundrey Jones. Jones is a PhD student in Ethnic Studies at UC San Diego.