Of Poets & Other Abandoned Things: Day 7

Day 7

So these pictures were take at an abandoned house by Rubben Mabuku.

He's a strictly black and white photographer and he told me that he doesn't do photo shoots, he does concept shoots.

He wanted to capture me as a poet and he prefers picking places still in construction because of the varying textures but I had different ideas for the location. 

When I got the pictures back, they did what he's out here to do - they inspired me, gave me a concept to work with because yes, sometimes my poetry is happy and is for the purpose of healing.

But sometimes we have to fall apart before we can start again.
  

Of Becoming A Poet II 
 

 When I decided that I had to figure out how to literary mark my territory
 I started reading and studying poetry.

I looked at all the writers and poets who looked like me
 Came from where I come from
Or at least somewhere close
 Somebody I could truly relate to, you know?
Especially as a woman of colour, this trait is one I found particularly important.
Like gold worth searching for.
We have our own tales to tell in our own ways
I couldn't keep reading of one sided, white washed narratives.
How could I do this if I kept consuming their stories?
You could say I chose to rebel.
For wanting to sound somewhat like myself.
While still sounding like my peers.

Warsan inspired me when she had the gall to write a book called Teaching My Mother How To Give Birth.

Nayyirah gave me the freedom when she wrote of being black and being soft.
 Chinua Achebe showed me what it looked like to be a literary God.

Yrsa taught me of pain, how to share stories of loss, depression, complicated relationships with our parents.
So from here I began to decipher how to be beautifully and poetically me.