Christina Simmons

Gold Star - 6,793 Points (20/4/61 / St Lucia, Caribbean.)

What's In A Name - Poem by Christina Simmons

A birth name signifies inner strength
Ability to soldier on regardless of the toll: wanted too please
This peaceful loving people gladly answering to Christina: Tina even
More acceptable; adopted the names for acceptance by this nation of
Good Samaritans

Known as western society - beautiful people of west equator
Don't make me laugh! Breed so filled with resentment they need to
Control others; Great English correctness is portrayed on daily basis
Who's fooling whom? Stop confusion....Man! Seen as foreign not classy to mention

Dear beloved mama Christen moi by that name - spelling out
I am a valiant soul but still wasn't good enough for commoners
Subjects of this land; Royal family is put in the forefront to boost what's perceived as English etiquette:
Stolen what was ours to begin with....Shush! No one is meant to be the wiser

Where does a non-white figure stand? Where do I belong? Am I merely
A novelty until the next nigga is hail supreme for not making any fuss! ? Create naught instead goes with the flow not rocking status qou - keeping Lips tightly muzzled hoping never to bite, clenching teeth until stomach Lets out diarrhoea through the bowel; saying with a smile, it's OK. I'm Fine. All foreigners in this green and luscious land don't ever consider escaping cause we're prisoners of England: Rule Britannia!

An alien living here acting like Uncle Tom to reach far Cos hell bells strikes a ghastly sound; scorn by all and sundry: remain vigilant; The boat swiftly passing by without stopping letting us on board

Patiently wait for the black one to risk along like a goblin resembling Jumping Jack flash! Faster than lightening - ever so ready; rely on us all the same never Complains always last on the list even by other niggas: - seldom are we counted; Good is send to an early grave; dying of poverty or overindulgence: who cares?

I do! Gone on for centuries this inferiority complex breaking free from These chains locking the essence of our being accepting without resistance: we have become so distorted; secretly yearning for freedom whilst alive and not After death! Next time you see me you'll know

31/10/15 Sylvestina Silvers Simmons

Topic(s) of this poem: name, identity

Form: Prose Poem

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Just voicing what has been a pain in the posterior.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, November 1, 2015

Poem Edited: Thursday, March 9, 2017

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