Obama has a strange name they say <br />But then so do I <br />Strange for here but not for there <br />Stranger and stranger as the world becomes <br />Freer and freer, no frontiers <br />Depending for whom <br />Depending for where. <br /> <br />Travellers we are all: nomads in this world <br />That keeps contracting and still <br />Strangers remain strangers and worse <br />Foreignors remain strangers on <br />Shores that remain devoid of warmth. <br /> <br />What is foreign? Coming from which shores <br />And arriving where? Are foreignors strange because <br />They have strange names <br />Or they act strange? A strange kind of modernity dictates <br />That everyone looks and speaks alike <br />Devoid of accent, devoid of strange words <br /> <br />That's how it is and now Obama with his strange name <br />And mine with mine: we have associations to the past <br />To some far-off land; stranger I am still <br />My hair, like Obama's, says where I come from. <br />My eyes, like Obama's, say where I come from. <br />My skin, like Obama's speaks louder than words. <br /> <br />I am the sum of all that came before. <br />My strangeness is just that: <br />I brought a slice of the world with me when I came. <br /> <br />Copyright: Rani Turton<br /><br />Rani Turton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/obama-has-a-strange-name-they-say/
