Kalypsoul: The Other Self: March 2005

Sunday, March 27, 2005

Wildflower

(To the art of perseverance)

Wildflower

Black Orchid, sensitive and mild,
wildflower emerging in tentative style.
Puffs of pollen, all comfy and nude,
fluffy like swans down, warm, cosy and smooth.
Gazes in wonder at this idyllic place;
lifts up a voice in this echoing space.
Fuzzy warm ducklings all gather around,
nuzzling together where caring is found.
Home for the one who has sought high and low;
don’t scurry away when the trumpeters blow!
You’ll find a friend here if you linger a while;
respite from the storm, my poetic child

© KPLewis (Kalypsoul)
02.28.2005

Beyond the Pale

Beyond The Pale

So one by one
They lay their heavy burdens down
Lay down life’s scabbard, hoe and toil
Lay down the tears and never-ending strife

Now one by one
Reach out their still world-weary hands
Step willingly beyond the pale
Full fathoms deep, last conscious senses fade

In serene smile
And varnished, cedar-lidded eyes
A future lost to yesteryear
And triumph tears the tempests of today

Far-seeing souls
Cold praying clasp, and ashen calm
Set fluid spirits free to roam
No bounds can harm, nor can the joy be told

At chasm’s edge
I peer into vast void of night
No clearer with fair light of dawn
Forgetfulness must be your trusted friend

Still satin sheen
Holds fast to love’s eternal dream
Through rusted coins and green’d shroud pins
Yet in ancestor’s lore you linger still

© KPLewis (Kalypsoul)
03.26.2005

The Way I Use Language

Author’s Note: Codeflow

You will find that I have started to experiment with movement in communication referencing (in speech and thought patterns) from dialect to standard that is neither unidirectional nor formulaic. This is deliberate. The style used here is my experimentation with what I call code-flow. I find myself writing the way I speak – in a comfortable, fluid mixture of standard and dialect, often within the same sentence, the same thought. It is what we Caribbean people do in uncontrived everyday speech. It is not code-shifting with which the literary world is familiar. Code-switching or code- shifting tends to follow a certain pattern, dialect for speech and standard for description and narration as has been traditionally used in Caribbean fiction. I am taking it a step further, letting dialect flow into standard and back again in both dialogue and narration/description, mingling together in the same sentence, the same thought. To me this shows the true fluidity/reality of how we operate linguistically in everyday life. We do not think in standard English and converse in Trini dialect; we think in both and speak in both but not all the same time. I may begin a thought in the standard received form but suddenly I want to express surprise, hilarity, indignation, outrage and the standard does not have the right words. I flow effortlessly to that in which I can express those thought, those ideas, those sentiments most comfortably. I express them and, depending on what I wish to reference next, I either move back to standard, stay where I am or move deeper into another dialect comfort zone. I may say it in French Patois or Cocoa Panyol or a dialect of Hindi or of English or I may use a uniquely West African turn of phrase or grammatical construct or express m thoughts in a totally creative word or expression known only to my country or one group or individual within. Language gets created through use and new words and expressions all have a very specific starting point.

Code switching is an improvement on the outright rejection of the use of dialect as having no place in the written word or in Caribbean literature. It also differs from the outright rejection of the standard as a form of linguistic resistance to colonialism. Yet, code switching is a colonized, conformist mode that, in spite of itself, accepts the superiority of the standard and makes apologies for dialect by restricting its use only to direct speech. It reflects the pedagogy of colonial education which polarized the acceptable standard of the reading books and the classroom from the unacceptable dialect of everyday use by everyday people. It was a time when the whip was applied to purge the tendency towards dialect use in respectable settings.

Code sliding attempts a more integral blending of the two and brings together a variety of Caribbean dialects in one form. It moves in the direction of defining a distinct and decolonized Caribbean identity in the aftermath of colonialism. The term code-sliding, however, implies for me a lack of control, a downward sort of slippery slope movement, and a built-in acceptance of linguistic hierarchies. Instead I advance the concept of code-flow which conveys the sense of non-hierarchical fluidity and an effortlessness that defines acceptance of a unique identity in the context of postmodernity rather than deliberate conscious resistance in the context of coloniality or postcoloniality. It speaks of creativity, reinterpretation and transformation. The smooth fluidity of language that melds the standard with dialect in a thought, in a phrase, in a sentence, shows not so much a rejection of historic influences but an acceptance of the new self, the birth of a Caribbean identity in which colonialism and an ethos defined by resistance to it are merely blurred distant memories. Caribbean code-flow essentially involves and emerges from an unequivocal acceptance of all aspects of a new self: Africa, Europe, India and Mesoamerica, all integral to the new identity through reinterpretation and transformation. It is méstissajé, creolité, unrepentant.