Wailings in the White House

(Reminiscences of Paul Jennings to Awka Smiths of Buckingham Palace Gate)

By Uduma Kalu

I wake up every morning in White House built by slaves.
Because he woke me up. This first born child of White House, a slave. He shrieked at maser President Madison. I ain’t no slave. Asnet died.
Ursula broke. Hugh broke. Was it martyrdom? Was it sacrifice? Crispus Attucks asked Keckley.
I wake up every morning in White House built by slaves. I wake up every morning by wailings of a child.
Who consoles wife? Who consoles husband? Not Madison saving in his safes. As slaves must build White House.
I wake up every morning in a White House built by slaves. I wake up every morning by wailings of a child.
Was it martyrdom? Was it sacrifice? Crispus Attucks asked Keckley.
Slaves of Virginia. Slaves of Maryland. Slaves of Hermitage and slaves sold and bought in White House. Presidents’ slaves. Staff’s slaves, fanning from the colonies of slaves where masters saved their safes.
Chefs and gardeners, they were stable hands. Maids and butlers, they wept for Asnet. The first born in White House was a slave.
Some lady’s maids, valets and more. They lay in rooms lost in ground floor. They slept in rooms high in temps. The rodents ran around and ate their legs.
They slept in the cold. High in the attic, they slept in the cold. That night Asnet died. The first child born in White House was a slave.
They hewed, hardened by hardwares. The stones, lumber, bricks and nails.
They quarried, sawed, bricked, carpenters. They made materials raw and real.
From Aquia, forty miles long. To White House.They quarried, smoothened stones for masons of White House. Two hundred more. A hundred more. And more slaves.
And presidents came and left, holding slaves in White House. Presidents sold and bought slaves. In White House, presidents bought and sold slaves.
I wake up every morning in White House built by slaves. I wake up every morning by wailings of a child.
Was it martyrdom? Was it sacrifice? Crispus Attucks asked Keckley..
Slaves lashed with chains and bondage. And stings of segregation. Fed a bit for a beat. Penniless. The masters saved their safes.
Though my dogs play with my daughters here. Their dreams high as rainbow, I wake up every morning in White House built by slaves.
I wake up every morning by wailings of a child, Asnet, first child born in White House was a slave.
Was it martyrdom? Was it sacrifice? Crispus Attucks asked Keckley.