White And Black Skin: An Illusion Poem by Joseph Cimanuka

White And Black Skin: An Illusion

White skin—but an illusion.

Black skin—but a confusion.

No man fashioned from clay is white,
Neither is any man black,
For clay is neither white nor black.

White is but a borrowed colour
That you wear upon your face,
To lift yourself above me,
Spreading your imperial ideology:

'I am a white creature,
Like the dove,
Near to God and His kingdom.
My ways are upright
And full of light.
Therefore, listen to me! '

'You are a black creature,
Like tar,
Near to Satan and his kingdom.
Your ways are crooked
And full of darkness.
Therefore, be silent! '

Black is but the colour
You force upon my face,
To bring me low,
To wound my mind,
And to imprison my spirit.

But I am certain—
Not uncertain:

No man fashioned from clay is white or black,
For clay is neither white nor black.

Before you named me,
I was clay.
Before you coloured me,
I was human.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
race is a human illusion imposed on people, not something inherent in our shared origin
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
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