Poetry Soapbox: Eve

Eve

By Lorna King
PRIDE Poet Laureate

Eve in Africa
solid in wood.
Carved in stone
in caves;
with butt, belly, and breast
to feed the world,
to start the tribe.

Eve her daughter grown pale;
butt-less, breast-less, belly-less.
She
of the long tresses
conversed with serpents;
held splashes of red
liquids
from walls to canvas.

Accountable to others
for treachery, for the prominent vee,
for taking gifts from serpents
and giving life to men.
Yes
it was Eve who started this struggle,
the shadow, hiding behind men,
the voice, moulding minds;
the hands-holding hearts.

Eve stands before the night;
and she remembers everything,
a jolt in her flat front
before dusk
signals pain and sorrow,
because she created children
in the aftermath of original sin.
She forsook her mother;
lightened her skin
but she could not leave her daughters behind.

They follow her …

Lorna King, who worked in various hotel management capacities in Jamaica and in the U.S.A. before migrating to Canada in 1998, was awarded the Order of Distinction, Officer Class, by the Jamaican government in 2009. She is also a former President of P.A.C.E. (Canada) and a Director of the People Bridge Charitable Foundation.