Poem 463:
UNKNOWN ANCESTRY
I am, my friend
A part of this world
A being of many parts, manifold
Of unknown ancestries, misconceived origins
If I could see my many forbears today
I’d probably see (for sure)
The color of the times in them
My mother, my father
And those before them I know
Had a difference in them
As wide as the Grand Canyon
One
I could never really explain
Some tell me (ever so often)
So, so many different tales
I’ve learned a lot, you know
For now
I truly don’t know who or what to believe
My mother had a nose so long
Pinochio would lose a contest of noses with her
My father’s skin so light
He could’ve passed for one of them
My grandma on his side
Had this strange look
Of one who’d scalped so many settlers
His father looked like
A cross between Ching Chang & Mona Lisa
Her father, no better or worse
His face had the shape of a sculpture
Now my grandma was different
She seemed to be a full blooded
But
Even so
They tell me (gleefully)
She has some strange blood in her too
I saw one of the great grand ones
In a picture mounted in the old place
So, so long ago
That is, before it was torn down
And
If I remember correctly
They were not any better off either
They also told me
(My "faithful" friends of lore)
The ones with the funny look
Were almost always products of unholy & forceful alliances
My relatives on one side
Look like a brew
Of Kunta Kinte, Ching Chang, Uuga Manga, John Doe………
And a hos t of who know’s what
Now
The other guys had so much blood in them
I still can’t figure out
Who’s what & what’s in who
Hell, who cares ?
Not me, of course
(I’m already made, my brother)
No going back for me
Or change of address possible, that I’m sure of)
By now I guess
You’re wondering about me
How I look
What I look like
Don’t worry
I look like anybody
Who’s had so many people take a part in deciding how he looks
A disaster
Now, on the other hand
My sister is the lucky one
You’d probably think
She was an angel come to earth awhile
Uh !
Don’t ask me what I think of this all
‘Cause,
I ain’t telling no one
Not even myself
@ Baba 6/19/93 6:20 p.m.
Written at Brooklyn/Cath U. Metro Station while for one of the R buses.
*Inspiration from a guy wearing a black ‘T’ shirt with UNKNOWN ANCESTRY in white (& a big question mark in the middle) on the back, with his girlfriend/wife with a baby. He, blackish; she, whitish & it, definitely, a mulatto. Oops ! ‘it’ is a baby.
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