You cannot see the road map of my life
within the features of my Asian face.
How can you see the tears and joy and strife
my life endures? The tale’s beyond my race.
You can’t see my Albertan birth and pride,
my life in Indiana and the heat
of Houston, Texas – ah, how warm and nice!
And then the cold return to Northern breeze.
And you don’t see my Oriental joy
in speaking Chinese fluently (at best),
my shining love of Asian, cultured bliss.
But even though my culture’s different voice
may sing a different song from all the rest,
we all have ears, two eyes, and lips to kiss.
Originally entitled "The Profile of Edmonton, Indiana, Texas, and Guelph", written this afternoon for English class, in response to a question asking for a poem written answering Maxine Tynes' poem, "The Profile of Africa":
ReplyDeleteTHE PROFILE OF AFRICA
We wear our skin like a fine fabric, we people of colour
Brown, black, tan, coffee, coffee cream, ebony
Beautiful, strong, exotic in profile, flowering lips
Silhouette, obsidian planes, curves, structure, like a many shaded mosaic.
We wear our skin like a flag
We share our colour like a blanket
We cast our skin like a shadow
We wear our skin like a map
Chart my beginnings by my profile
Chart my beginnings by colour
Read the map of my heritage
in my face, my skin, the dark flash of eye
The profile of Africa