Thomas Wells Poet Didactic

Complexions of Being

We are complexions of being,
gradations of actualization.
Our nature coming to be or passing away, 
Aristotle wrote. 

Mere complexions of being,
gradations of ontology.
In every American thing we claim to know,
Pigment is the currency,
Our petty underlying divisor,
Our pixelated property.
The color line preserves white privilege.

We are complexions of being,
gradations of realization.
From The Age of Enlightenment
followed the epoch of enslavement,
Our white patriots traded in commodified skins,
Learning how an emboldened empire wins,
Learning how merchants on the take use race. 
So their destiny was manifest,
Genocide was their bequest.

In their path, all traces of different races  
Necessarily disappeared,
The indigenous people they feared.
Hunted, murdered, and  jeered, 
White entitlement forgot them all and moved on.

We are complexions of being,
gradations of sentience. 
Quickly unraveling before breakfast,
Whites come alive, staggering like air dancers,
Inflated gas bags thrashing, and lurching,
At their dealerships, certain something sensational
Is happening somewhere.
The reasons never explicated,
The false complexion dichotomies 
will never transfer power. 
Until there is no white or black, 
Until we are gradations of one,
Until we see our shades of immanence. 

Published: Dissident Voice, October 2, 2022

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Anil Deo January 12, 2022 at 8:33 PM Having Traded in "commodities skins," moving toward One ... Toward "our shades of immanence." Powerful words ( words of a divine being having this human experience?) Keep on keeping on Dr. Wells. Shalom, shalom Friend Thomas Wells January 13, 2022 at 1:41 AM Having traveled throughout the world, I can scarcely think of many other nations with a history more defined by race (dare I say, racialized). It shouldn't require divinity to recognize the triviality of using pigment to measure a person's value when as MLK said, we should measure it by the content of a person's character. Be well my friend!

Anil Deo November 14, 2021 at 5:33 PM Final 2 lines R hope indeed. Sheer genius; this poem is full of WOWs: "In every American thing we claim to know, Pigment is the currency, Our petty underlying divisor, Our pixelated property./" Dr. W, the so-called enlightenment created OTHERS by overthinking. Animals suffer worse than humans, but still enjoy life ( polluted). I think Andalusia Spain co-existed with Moors +700 years until Renaissance said EUROPEANS r superior. Your last lines prophesies backward & forward in time PTL Thomas Wells November 15, 2021 at 8:01 AM I can't thank you enough, Anil. Your comments are always so sensitive! Shalom, shalom!