PoetryFlows4rmMe
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Sorry Caps Lock was on. but please check out my work from Teen Ink I love to write and you'll love to read it, I promise
http://www.teenink.com/poetry/free_verse/article/183591/Ancestry/
P.S. Don't Forget To Rate Too!
okay if people are weary of links I'll post one of my poems here for your ease
Photo credit: Michael G., Glocester, RI
Author's comments about this article:
This was Inspired by Black History Month. Reflecting on the past and renovating the future.
We sailed through Middle Passage in bondage and bile
Sardined in our own can of misery
We moaned and cried trying to survive as we were sold separately
Displaced from our family
Manacled
Shackled
Beaten in contempt
No words can describe how our ancestors had lived
How they lived on the fields and worked on the fields and died by the fields
Life sour from the bitter fruit beared of their labor
Child born, a girl, whipped ‘til they could tame her
Save for name her
Momma gone; She can’t raise her
She grow up
And Massah rape her
She just a slave girl
She just a black cur
She bore his children
Now Missus hate her
Can you blame her?
No reason for the anger
Still the children face grave danger
Nothing more deadly than a woman scorned
Nothing more deadly than a woman wronged
Still she lives on and works
And works
And works
Til there’s nothing…nothing left,
Nothing left to give
Until her milk is powdered, til her breasts droop and sag
Til’ her arms and feet drag, til her back breaks, til her mouth and head begin to shake to their own involuntary song.
But there’s something in her eyes that deceives her broken body and reveals her sound mind.
Striving and thriving
Seemed as though her wisdom was locked in line
She uses it to stop the crying
She guards it and masks it in a face of iron
Never let them see you tears
Never let them know your struggle
Doing her daily toil she folds it within the plantation linen
And before she died she embedded this knowledge deep within her children
They wrap their mother’s virtue tightly round their necks
They braid it and adorn it with pride
They lift their voices and dance
Inspiration of the soul providing the emancipation
Never again becoming a slave to injustice
Her children live on within all of us.
http://www.teenink.com/poetry/free_verse/article/183591/Ancestry/
P.S. Don't Forget To Rate Too!
okay if people are weary of links I'll post one of my poems here for your ease
Photo credit: Michael G., Glocester, RI
Author's comments about this article:
This was Inspired by Black History Month. Reflecting on the past and renovating the future.
We sailed through Middle Passage in bondage and bile
Sardined in our own can of misery
We moaned and cried trying to survive as we were sold separately
Displaced from our family
Manacled
Shackled
Beaten in contempt
No words can describe how our ancestors had lived
How they lived on the fields and worked on the fields and died by the fields
Life sour from the bitter fruit beared of their labor
Child born, a girl, whipped ‘til they could tame her
Save for name her
Momma gone; She can’t raise her
She grow up
And Massah rape her
She just a slave girl
She just a black cur
She bore his children
Now Missus hate her
Can you blame her?
No reason for the anger
Still the children face grave danger
Nothing more deadly than a woman scorned
Nothing more deadly than a woman wronged
Still she lives on and works
And works
And works
Til there’s nothing…nothing left,
Nothing left to give
Until her milk is powdered, til her breasts droop and sag
Til’ her arms and feet drag, til her back breaks, til her mouth and head begin to shake to their own involuntary song.
But there’s something in her eyes that deceives her broken body and reveals her sound mind.
Striving and thriving
Seemed as though her wisdom was locked in line
She uses it to stop the crying
She guards it and masks it in a face of iron
Never let them see you tears
Never let them know your struggle
Doing her daily toil she folds it within the plantation linen
And before she died she embedded this knowledge deep within her children
They wrap their mother’s virtue tightly round their necks
They braid it and adorn it with pride
They lift their voices and dance
Inspiration of the soul providing the emancipation
Never again becoming a slave to injustice
Her children live on within all of us.