Tampa poet GeminiFox expresses frustration and helplessness in ‘Kindling’

Words can be used to express emotion or to amplify it. Art and music have been instrumental in expressing the thoughts and feelings of a culture. Poetry has been used as the voice of many. Likewise, Spoken Word has been instrumental in expressing our joys, our fears and our frustrations when we were unable to affect the world around us.

During the pandemic, creatives like myself took inventory of our lives and of the world around us. The uncertainty, panic and paranoia had most of us focusing on all the things that we had left undone.

My poem, "Kindling," expressed the frustration and helplessness that I felt in our racial climate that seemed to become more volatile during COVID. In May of 2020 a shockwave was sent from Minneapolis throughout the globe. For the first time, many witnessed what had become commonplace for one demographic within the United States. It took me a while to form the words to this poem.

I chose to imagine the killing of that one man and many others as the chopping down of trees. How callously are trees chopped down?

To some, taking a life is no more eventful than chopping down a tree. Unlike most who expressed their shock and frustration in poetry, I have chosen not to use the name of the gentleman murdered.

After all, we do not name the trees we chop down. Do we?

Follow @geminifoxpoetry on Instagram.

Kindling
Did you hear the news today?
They say that another black man was killed
Isn't that something?
Another branch separated from its trunk
Another tree decimated
But what is another kindling for the fire?
Just a little Kindle to make this thing move forward
Don't worry,
He will not turn into ash soon
What is a tree but not charcoal for the barbecue?
It will burn,
The embers will burn
Social media will be hot!
We will be popular for a moment
15 minutes for a life
5 minutes to turn it into a poem
Turn it into a meme, don't worry
We will immortalize him in the worst way.
But as we speak
The fire still grows
There is still Forest to consume
I have a young tree that I'm growing
I want him to be a cedar
I want him to be an oak
I wanted to place him in the middle of the Amazon where the cutters have not yet arrived
I want to build a tribe around him
not just with spears and stones
But with battalions to protect him.
I want his roots to be buried deep
I want him to sprout a new Forest
But we are here
At the edge of a forest that is dying
At the edge of an industrial nation that is burning
And we are kindling for the fire
So tell me,
How much dying will be enough?
Should I wait till mine is kindling for the fire?
Before I speak passionately concerning injustice?
Should I wait?!
Will you be compassionate then?
Will you name my tree?
What will you say to me, they try to strip off my branch?
When they try to chop down my tree?
When they try to throw us into the flames?
What
Will
You
Say
Then!
I am tired of being kindling for the fire
Every nation burns us like coal
I'm tired of being kindling for the fire
I am tired of being the one fueling the barbecue
While you toast, and you eat and you feast!
I
Am
Tired.
What if the trees sprung up?
What if they fought back and suffocated the fire?
What would you do then?
You want to know why the trees have not sprung up and strangled everything?
I will tell you,
The world will not be ended by water next time around,
It will be ended by fire.
Make us Kindling if you wish.
Trees are the only things that will survive this.

For National Poetry Month, Creative Loafing Tampa Bay asked Dennis Amadeus, who leads The GrowHouse Collective based in Ybor City, Florida, to help us reach unsung poets. We asked them to write about trees—any trees—and they responded.

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