On this poem by Wendy Thompson Taiwo, the burden of generational trauma, carried for over three many years, is tangible. Desirous to shed this burden, not merely its scent however its entirety, is a cry for launch and renewal. The need to extricate it from the self, like a malignant development, speaks to the profound want for liberation.
The poet envisions depositing it into one thing, maybe a jar or forgotten account, even one other’s physique—an act of determined dissociation from the ache. The craving to discard the disgrace, casting it into the abyss of trash, the boundless expanse of the ocean, or the purifying fireplace, illustrates the desperation to be free from this haunting legacy.
The concept of archiving this agony, much like recording oppressive historical past, is an announcement of the poet’s presence, an acknowledgment that their battle won’t be forgotten. In its sheer vulnerability, the poem turns into a scar, a landmark to the distinctive wound that gave life to it. It’s a curated present by which pleasure, bitterness, and intriguing patrons collect, giving testimony to a path of reclamation and perseverance. Via these verses, we see the troublesome path to breaking free from the bonds of generational trauma, a journey marked by the facility of self-expression and the unbreakable spirit of survival.
“After carrying the burden of all this injury
for over thirty years, I wished to be rid of it.
And never simply the scent of it—all of it.
To take away it from my physique like a malignant
development or parasite. To deposit it in into
one thing: a jar, a forgotten account
another person’s physique. To throw the disgrace
away. Into the trash. Into the ocean. Into a hearth.
To archive the ache like slave schedules or
census information that not spoke of my
existence. This poem is a scar that reveals the
onceness of a wound, a curated present by which
pleasure, bitterness, and unknown patrons attend.”
Learn the complete poem right here: Generational Trauma – Waccamaw (waccamawjournal.com)
Characteristic picture: Melissa Askew, On Unplash