So, frequently I would head to poetry nights after work, which back in my more corporate days meant I turned up wearing a suit.
And encountered some very hostile reactions.
And it struck me as odd because these were the very same people who would then stand up and declaim about how society would be so much better if we all stopped judging on appearances.
So, I wrote this poem.
Ignorance lies in the beholder’s eye
I wear a suit, which means I may work in
An office, but people think it means a
Lot more, so I ask you how much does it
Give away? Does it show that my mother
Is African? That my Irish father
Was banned from her country for reporting
On white police violence against black
Youths? Does it give you a picture of the
Commune where I grew up? My German minder,
My Scottish second father, can you
See in its tailoring my Grandfather
Was a witch doctor or that my cousin
Is a world class expert in African
Music? Does the warp of its weft reveal my
Childhood of anti-nuclear marches
And women’s lib meetings? Perhaps my tie
Shows my private school had blood in the dorms
And rape in the showers. That when I switched
To a new school in London, someone looked
At me the wrong way and I broke his nose.
Does this colour tell you I was almost
Expelled? But that the teachers there called to
The man, inside the angry, frightened
Boy and I became a scholar, not a
Thug. Do my shoes reflect the summer I
Spent fighting skinheads within the
Anti-Nazi league? Or the year on a
Game reserve in Africa? Does the crease
In my trousers say I’m trilingual, as
At home in Cairo or Paris as the
Markets of Brixton and Roman Road, it
May be my ironed shirt indicates I
Can strip a Browning pistol blindfolded,
Sleep outdoors for a month in minus 5,
Gut, clean and cook fish, rabbit or bird, or
Run for miles with pack on back. That I’ve heard
The siren scream of rockets overhead
And seen a body slump, never to rise
Again. Do these clothes demonstrate my nights
Of terror, the realisation all
I once believed in held no truth for me
Any more. The rebirth and redemption
As life opened another door that led
To freedom from what once was and the chance
To begin anew. See I’ve worn many
Garments in my life, a school blazer, Grunge
Rocker’s mac, a soldier’s khaki and now
I wear a suit……And the only thing that
You can tell about me from that is that
I may work in an office.
Great poem James
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Thanks Rachel!
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Clever and so true Jamie – we judge so much on how people look nowadays – that and their accent too! Brilliant Poem.
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