Two poems by Aaiún Nin
Aaiun Nin, Angolan spoken word poet and artist, was born in Luanda but currently lives in Copenhagen. Nin’s work touches on themes of racism and sexuality and it is an ongoing examination of pain and trauma in a style that challenges a traditional use of language. In July, Aaiun Nin was denied asylum in Denmark. Danish PEN, among others, has engaged in the case in order to put further pressure on the regime to change its verdict and instead offer Aaiun Nin permanent residence.
Black skin in the forsaken outback of the world both concrete and jungle in varying states of decomposion and men in a corner
ordering girls to smile s:ff with rigor mor:s all bones no flesh
girls in prim clothes going to school going to church going to graveyards in prim clothes Stone eyed
missing teeth blue-black skin huddled together bathed in molesta:on.
The first dying.
In a mass grave a blue-black shaddow is born. In a room smelling of kerosene lamps To women in their fourth dying and men sing outside drinking beer. Holographic. Horror makes the body transparent. Fobidden flesh perpetua:ng un-becoming algor mor:s the long fallen broken screens Holographic
Going to school where a white god is nailed to a cross promising paradise abandoning the living knowing it’s the dead that teach us how to count.
Heavy hands of grown people
Covering their mouths. Scream in silence.
The first dying.
Body is a body
Body is a body Flesh is not yours Growing flesh of adolescence. Unripe flesh ready for picking.
So we grow holding hands with the reaper. Dispossessed from body and land. In makeshiJ homes dele:ng the human part of ourselves. Screening Ctrl+alt+del Esc Del Funnelled through algorithms where numbers and leMers are the same where numbers cancel out names and news of dead black people makes us spin with no god to welcome them into paradise. Un-bap:sed corpses. Unholy flesh.
Heartbreak is stoned-face mechanical fingers on the trigger of whatever shape a gun will take shoots in the dark ctr+del self-destructs esc+del figh:ng against the will to live.
Subjugate the law of false nature. reemagining happiness a black happiness filled with sorrow
too many fucked up memories of us as children going to school going to church
going to graveywards in prim clothes. Funeral wear. whipping joy into existence the bones of the hopefull dead raMling in their caskets cheering on from beyond the abyss
bodies in a circle hollering Some:mes smiling. Smiling s:ll.
Maybe out of hope ardent wakefulness
that some of us can s:ck to the first dying push against the second third fourth hold on to whatever flesh is leJ call it our own heartbroken s:ll smiling maybe out of delirium
Souls wandering around chained to a system that disallows us to look beyond the green notes, Like death feels good. Chasing aJer paper that polishes the sharp toothed smiles of greed whilst we grind on that minimum wage broken down field niggers in blue collars, In this world
Where we are s:ll monkeys with less humanity than the animal, In this world. where bullet holes on brown skin spark no outrage. In this world
Where children play along dead bodies holding meth pipes In this world
The whip cracks on the school to prison pipeline In the mass incarcera:on and perpetual genocide of the brownskins in the destabilised regions across the world that set the scene for a colonisa:on that never ends. From the missionaries that give us old T-shirts and bibles to the tragic caricatures of the people they have codemned with a promise of salva:on then tyrannise the meek us for the sake of righteousness, For theirs is Earth to inherit.
For ours is Earth to inherit. In this world, where we have been punished for sins we have not commiMed, Brutalised and silenced, we're s:ll here, Heartbroken and enraged,
we're still here We know what hellfire feel like we're still here
'Cause we too resilient to bow our heads, not in this :me Not in this life 'cause our deaths are no coincidence And our rage will not go unnonced
S:ll victorious 'cause we didn't perish. Coming out of this black pool, Throwing our heads back, laughing and be set in determina:on to keep going looking death in the face and say
We made it, We made it...