Caliban Poem by Kojo Owusu

Come secorax - on this island now a morass
Tossing on the tormenting waves incessantly
And rising - a miasma portentous - lost
Chance on uncertain tides- shores disfigured
On land formidable
Come Secorax on this island now a mire
Come Secorax Caliban calls
The island is engulfed by deluge of strangers
I am dispossessed;
I am dispropertied;
The caves would never resound Caliban
The sea would cease to roar my authority bequeathed
The enchanted island has succumbed
I toil from morn till eve and I feel the pangs
Of pain and anguish
Around my neck and shoulders a burden unrelenting
I have sunk into the quagmire of servitude
I am despised and trampled upon
Where are you on the waves mother
When I call you on the rocks
It is my voice that I hear back
Dire echoes of frailty
I stood on the silent shores and took pleasure
In the miserable lots of the imprisoned sprites
Celebrating their confinement which you
Executed in your pastimes.
Now the advent of an aged tatters;
Forerunner of my doom
With a little fair lady, a tiny angel.
In a rocky recess of a cave the aged man haunt
A strange sturdy with voluminous books
Pile on pile - here he practices the art of magic
The tumultuous sea his wand
And to the imprisoned sprites
He has given dire liberty
And the violent and ominous sound
That emerges from the sea echoes my captivity.
What is known as pain and anguish I can define
The anguish - the huge sense of loss
Of utter dissolution
Uprooted suddenly to grumble and grovel in silence
He is a master of charms and spells
Guardian of storm and lord of the waves
But not the pangs of his authority that is ruining me
This island was our home guarded by sycorax and caliban
Here was our home and the vast sea stretches far away
here we lived in bliss so rare and subdued our enemies.
Now the fury of the waves has receeded and
And an aged thing reigns.
The trauma he unleashes due to his mere presence
Is not enough - so I have to pass through the quagmire
Of hussle and toil
Ariel freely confined confines me in the labyrinth
Of malicious pranks
I am a curse in their midst
A vermin repulsive and repugnant
My language filthy and unrefined - barbaric
So I am compelled to learn the language
Of the aged tattars
All the vestiges of caliban must disappear
But what would caliban do with words
Etched on his tongue but to curse and condemn.
The precious little angel must b spared mother
If you avenge me - she is fautless
Yet when I go to the well and see my image in the water
I can sence that there is tenderness and beautiful things somewhere
Her spells and charms are more powerful than that of his aged father
Her songs - even her mere presence here alone has cast a spell
On the island.
No! what nightmares soothingly deceptive
It augments my burden
For caliban will always remain caliban.