Plucked – A poem inspired by Lubaina Himid’s ‘Name The Money’ artwork within the Navigation Charts Exhibition


Plucked

Plucked.  Plucked by a heavy hand

Plucked and placed here then, here now

Plucked out of the plenty of our motherland’s bounty of

Roaming meadows, flowers, trees, valleys and vines

Plucked.

Plucked by an empty necessity to create all that was unnecessary

But for the chosen few

Base figures, history rewritten

Charts now as underhanded sign off at the highest level

May I

Lean my head to the side with sad lowered eyes

May I

Step back in a most courteous curtsey

May I

May I

NO!

A dieu

A dieu

I wave my hanky with sad lowered eyes

But as I wave I believe

I believe into the particles of air moving at MY command

Rousing

Rousing the spirit in space

The concrete of my condition smashes against my skeletal pride

When I stand as a cut out copy of myself

Get the violins out for yourselves

Bow out once and for all

Roll over and in

The rich bounty of the meadows, flowers, trees, valleys

The Roaming vines

And.

Hang.

There.

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