Ode to Sarah Baartman

Genre: Poesy
Title: Ode to Sarah Baartman (Hottentot Venus)
Author: John King Ayanfe ©

My quill shall craft, my feather shall eternally portrait
Men have forgetten what i repaint from yesterdays
Oh Baartman, you were made of figure of speech
Of an African decent - of an African accent

You were an epitome of a mysterious wonder
Your backside was a sitter for Kilimanjaro
Your exotic psyche triggered lustful libodo
I remember you! I sighted you in Khosa, Southern Africa

Oh England, you casted an African daughter for her endowment
Thy men cheered watching her butts roll like jimbe
They gawk at her; oh faint inhuman skit
You coaxed a princess and turned her a toy

Oh Baartman, your voice echoes perpetual sexual assaults 
Out of thy will; they - they fed thee fried locust
How long shall man's gifts be his peril
Syphilis, your extermination was premature, yet late salvation

Paris, thou dissected the body of an abused soul
Sarah, though it took so long to honour thy body
Yet the earth of Africa is thy bed to rest
History says so much about man's inhuman acts against man

Sarah, they made thee a scientific experimentation
Man evermore finds pleasure nailing man unto dehumanization
Sahara gladly danced to welcome Sarah to her father's house
My African continent is defaced with assaults, servitude and corruption

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