Carry by Sarah Kabamba
CBC Books | CBC | Posted: November 8, 2017 12:43 PM | Last Updated: November 22, 2017
2017 CBC Poetry Prize shortlist
Sarah Kabamba made the 2017 CBC Poetry Prize shortlist for Carry.
She will receive $1,000 from the Canada Council for the Arts and will have her story published on CBC Books.
If you're interested in the CBC Literary Prizes, the CBC Nonfiction Prize opens on Jan. 1, 2018.
You can read Carry by Sarah Kabamba below.
Carry
my parents are the best
kind of poetry, which is to say
they are profound without meaning to be
intricate in their simplicity
kind of poetry, which is to say
they are profound without meaning to be
intricate in their simplicity
my father, in the living room
surrounded by family
eats freshly cooked cassava and peanuts
corn on the cob burnt with charcoal
dark bottles of malt sweat on the table
he looks at my mother, laughs, says
we are a sacrificed generation
we did what we had to
so now our children don't have to
the women and men laugh, nod, say, ndiyo, ndiyo, ndiyo
surrounded by family
eats freshly cooked cassava and peanuts
corn on the cob burnt with charcoal
dark bottles of malt sweat on the table
he looks at my mother, laughs, says
we are a sacrificed generation
we did what we had to
so now our children don't have to
the women and men laugh, nod, say, ndiyo, ndiyo, ndiyo
in the kitchen i drown
my hands in the sink
the women bring their laughter
into the room, flood me
with swahili, brightly colored cloths,
spices, warm bodies
i close my eyes, this is how
i want to be carried away
my hands in the sink
the women bring their laughter
into the room, flood me
with swahili, brightly colored cloths,
spices, warm bodies
i close my eyes, this is how
i want to be carried away
they pull pots and pans from shelves
fill plates with sliced plantains and yams
gut fish with bare hands, blood is too familiar
with their skin, yet they still sing, still dance, still
let their bodies sway, their voices
weave in and out, oil sizzles, sauce bubbles
scents mix, spices color the air
i open my eyes, this is how
i want to be carried away
fill plates with sliced plantains and yams
gut fish with bare hands, blood is too familiar
with their skin, yet they still sing, still dance, still
let their bodies sway, their voices
weave in and out, oil sizzles, sauce bubbles
scents mix, spices color the air
i open my eyes, this is how
i want to be carried away
they laugh at my quietness
the heat in the kitchen surrounds
us, makes my mother's cheeks glisten
as she tells the story of how i did not cry
for an hour after i was born, she holds so much
stories, some she tells often, some things
we rarely speak of, she says to me
if you let it, grief will kill parts of you
knowing her story all i can say is
mama, teach me the language of survival
she says, sometimes it sounds too much like sadness,
sister languages let me teach you joy
the heat in the kitchen surrounds
us, makes my mother's cheeks glisten
as she tells the story of how i did not cry
for an hour after i was born, she holds so much
stories, some she tells often, some things
we rarely speak of, she says to me
if you let it, grief will kill parts of you
knowing her story all i can say is
mama, teach me the language of survival
she says, sometimes it sounds too much like sadness,
sister languages let me teach you joy
my parents give me poetry without knowing
i have been collecting their words, storing them
in my bones, i will never lose them
i have been collecting their words, storing them
in my bones, i will never lose them
Read the other finalists:
- Tourists Stroll a Victoria Waterway by Cornelia Hoogland
- Lunar Landing, 1966 by Laboni Islam
- Postcards for my Sister by Alessandra Naccarato
- Saying the Names Shanty by Harold Rhenisch
About Sarah Kabamba:
Sarah Kabamba loves storytelling in all its forms, and believes it is one of the most powerful tools given to artists. Her work has been published in Carleton Now, Room Magazine, In/Words Magazine & Press and The New Quarterly. She currently resides in Ottawa, where she is completing her Masters degree at Carleton University and working on a collection of poetry.