folio : Forty-five Ottawa poets
Golden
I’m not as foolish as to think that it
started with me
A grain of sand doesn’t say
look, I am the desert
A wave doesn’t say
look, I am the ocean
A tree doesn’t say
look, I am the forest
Come
See the passing of the sun
the ripples in the trees
know that all the colors of light
aligned for me to be here
there are books in my bones
parables in my palms
stories in my skin
Sometimes my blood weeps
with all this history – and I will not lie
and tell you that all these pains were worth it
but I know that I am worth it, not worthless
In a world that only wants to recognize
that I’m golden when I’m gone
I will choose to still be
I will chose to still breathe
Come – listen
My ancestor sing over me, through me
ancient lullabies and lost languages
swimming through my veins, reminding me
of when I first came, swaddled in the softness
of my mother and her mother and her mother –
we could go on forever – there is not enough time
to talk of past lives, of borders, of crossings, of namings,
of bleedings and drownings and rebellions and community
and generations of cartographers, freedom fighters, storytellers,
survivors, leaders, healers, artists and creators –
there is not enough time
to trace the history of this blood
but know that it continues with me
and will carry on beyond me
Celebration
To be honest, some days I wake
and I’m surprised that I’m still here
always thought that this world would kill me
before I could conquer it
but here I am, I wake
and call my mother
just to hear her laugh
she calls me blessed
reminds me that I’m magic
that deep, dark spiritual shit
that ancestral you can’t kill us shit
she says, you know you didn’t cry
right after you were born
your father was so worried
I knew you’d cry when you
had something to say
I laugh in my mother’s voice
sit unashamed
in my quietness
Currently I am working on editing my poetry manuscript, and subsequently shopping for publishers. Additionally, I’ve been taking several writing workshops, and am also in the process of completing the facilitators training with the Writer’s Collective of Canada (WCC) and hope to be assisting in running workshops here in Ottawa in this coming year.
Sarah Kabamba’s writing has appeared in Room Magazine, PRISM International, The New Quarterly, HA&L Magazine, Canthius, In/Words Magazine and Press, ottawater and The Vault. She was shortlisted for the 2017 CBC Poetry Prize, longlisted for the 2017 Journey Prize and featured in Quattro Book’s 2018 Best New Poets in Canada series. She was also one of the 2023 Journey Prize winners. She has performed at Versefest, In our Tongues, Riverbed Reading Series, Sawdust Reading Series, and the Art Bar. She is of Congolese origins and currently lives in Ottawa.
