"colered" poems
Memory takes me back to long ago. I can see the deck of the slave ship I came on, smell the salt air and the hot vinegar used to clean away the escaping stench below the deck, hear the sound as male slaves exercise, as crew members play fiddle music while chains thud hard from the dancing amusement of the slaves. My home was near the River Senegal on the coast. The slave traders ships brought colered cloth, beads, *** and cowrie shells to trade for our black flesh. Father raised cattle, rice and maize. This ebony man traded muskets, gunpowder, needles and colored thread, for what he grew. On the day of our capture, we marched during the long day tied to each other, given only thin meal and warm water. Tiredness bore down on our limbs each step. Canoes came on waves toward us. Fear moved down the chained line of men. Women and children were separated. Our clothes were taken. Standing naked, mouths were opened, and muscles felt. We had to jump up and down while moving our arms. Chosen ones were branded on the skin. I screamed loudly until my voice refuse sound. The time for hearing is gone. Rapid waters filled with blood, as some are tossed into the sea, for circling sharks to dine on. The ship offers only sixteen inches to hold me, others have two and half inches if tightly packed. Bodies are in the hold, secured down by chains that are nailed. Faint cries of agony beat on my ears like drums. I try not to breath in the rancid smells of those who have soiled themselves. Air is limited. Mutiny usually takes place within the shoreline. Because when at sea chances are less to escape. Slaves who simply refuse to eat are force fed with the speculum oris which is placed in the slave's mouth, opening the jaws then food is pushed in usually rice or millet. Crew members tried wash away stench of blood from floggings, feces, ***** from between decks until this day the stench still remains. Living as a slave while your soul is dead is a living horror.
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
You know the cost of evil
Is written in the soul
Evolution being the pathway
For the beast to assume control
We are but a throw of dice
A cosmic shot in the dark
Misfireing neurons drowned us ln vice
Left behind the cold stare of a shark
Yes all of us live with the darkness
Random elements this is what we are
We strive to hold back the madnes
Of knowing we are but dust of a star
So tell me how will you judge me
Your very nature is colered ln blood
Look deep inside and you will see
The cost of evil
Is just all that is good. Hy
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
Cry for the world in its madness
Cry for all that is lost
Sorrow gives only to sadness
Our children will bear final cost
Look at what we have become
Using innocence to feed the machine
With the **** of the earth about done
Sons of man are just ******* mean
Cause we live in a dance with the devil
Stained in excess colered need
It is the meek who are getting leveled
As the strong just feast in their greed
For in blood we have written our story
It seems we learn nothing at all
In striving for power and glory
Bleeding misery through the fall. Hy
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
This life had left me so tired and old
I hate what I have become
The truth was in lies I bought and then sold
Now all I feel is the numb
I walked with the devil and didn't much care
So young I was playing the game
For whatever reason I chose not to share
Now all I have left is my name
In thinking about all that was lost
What was given to pay for the lie
Now I sit alone with the cost
Of chasing the need to stay high
Even as this dream gives way to despair
I feel I am coming undone
No longer fear the reaper's hard stare
No longer to blacken the sun
Peace comes with knowing endgame is near
Life begins severing ties
Keep faith with your god and you've nothing to fear
Just remember its colered in lies. Hy
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC