I am a court jester in the Queen's language
I am a court jester in the Queen's language. I have for too long entertained the idea that intelectual thought can only be conveyed in English. In the courtyard of my 72 page hardcover, on my A4 stage I have juggled metaphors, swallowed adages amd flipped similes to leave my audience in awe at the sheer skill of my lingustic trickery at the end of my penned performances.
But I was the one tricked.
As my grip on the Queen's languages tightened with every book, every scribbled note, every article and every dictionary consultation, I gained valuable things but lost my priceless native tongue. I am a servant to my word masters not a master of words. I have wasted the inheritance my elders left me and I have robbed my children of their mother. Their mother who's toungue is tied with culture, the language she speaks decodes our origins. My mother's tongue lovingly gives us pride in who we are but I swallowed my pride...and vomited remarks.
"Bloody blacks!" *cough* "that's so ignorant" *heavy breathing* "so ghetto" *wiping my mouth* and flushing the dirty toilet paper of my preceptions down the stereotyped toilet. My people's history has bloody stains. My people are gifted, creative thinkers as are all people. It is not in our culture to be poor, we are the heirs of green kingdoms that have chosen to adopt the poverty of a second hand culture. The prodigal son returns home.
But I was the one tricked.
As my grip on the Queen's languages tightened with every book, every scribbled note, every article and every dictionary consultation, I gained valuable things but lost my priceless native tongue. I am a servant to my word masters not a master of words. I have wasted the inheritance my elders left me and I have robbed my children of their mother. Their mother who's toungue is tied with culture, the language she speaks decodes our origins. My mother's tongue lovingly gives us pride in who we are but I swallowed my pride...and vomited remarks.
"Bloody blacks!" *cough* "that's so ignorant" *heavy breathing* "so ghetto" *wiping my mouth* and flushing the dirty toilet paper of my preceptions down the stereotyped toilet. My people's history has bloody stains. My people are gifted, creative thinkers as are all people. It is not in our culture to be poor, we are the heirs of green kingdoms that have chosen to adopt the poverty of a second hand culture. The prodigal son returns home.
