Africana

I’m not sure if what to make of this portrait.  My daughter (i.e., Ariel) created it. I figure the woman is from another place and time.  She was in love but lost her way to beauty.  Men became angry when she did not see upon them as a possible suitor.  The eternal drum in her village holds her corpse.  Her name was Wanda…

Men worship to be loved by a woman of darker skin.  They would touch their lips on burning coal to please them…across the Pacific they travel miles just to smell her robe…or the flowers that draped her hut in a village long since gone.  She was known to make men soil their pants with excitement. I wonder when they saw her what did they feel: Love? Saddened? Euphoria?   How could one woman drain wealthy men without touching them?  Who knows?  Maybe its just a fantasy these lost souls were seeking, nevertheless, Jacob was different.

Jacob was a handsome mix of Latino, Native-American, and Jewish descent.  He grew up in communities that never refuse their children.  A freshman at Harvard when cohorts introduced the Pacific Goddess named Wanda.  The story has it no man can see her and not fall into a quiet trance.  She was this beautiful, as like a singular rose among many unwanted bushes, her complexion blinded men.  Her body a mosaic of curves, breasts, and long hair which ran to her lower back.  Jacob was enamored as a stone watching her move, he wanted the woman who wanted no man.

I am sure the story ends as usual, Jacob loses his way kills her and himself in a bit of rage.  How tragic, beauty ruins as much as hate…but what happened you ask?  Don’t know?  I was only willing to read so much.  As the story goes read the entire story and become like you know…Jacob.  Never seen or heard from again.  The village holds secrets especially Wanda’s private affairs.

Robert a. Williams

Advertisements