Best Enchained Poems
[Poem read at Sekoto’s inhumation ceremony at the Neuilly-sur-Marne-93 Cemetery, near Paris. Channel 4 in London recorded the reading as they did the funeral rites in the presence of his close relatives come from afar for the nonce and based their documentary - as far as I can tell - on my lead cover article on the South African self-taught painter and musician Gérard SEKOTO, published in The Journal of Comparative Poietics, Vol. 2 (Paris), 1993. Both the article and the poem were re-published in my book on “poietics/la poïétique”, entitled: Poietics: Disquisitions on the Art of Creation. Allahabad: Cyberwit.net, 2008, 214p. There ensued a general scramble for his canvasses at the Maison des Artistes where he was lodged in his declining years, and even the sketches he gave me for publication disappeared from my studio.]
III
Long are the years you have lain your easel down
Longer still the sun at Botshebelo burnishing your skin
In the soft autumnal retreat of your heart
You could still hear children playing in the mission station
You saw with what glee they jigged in Sophiatown
And bled for your brothers enchained in District Six
Away in the quiet slumber of a land you loved
You wrought the blazing colours of a secret rage
of man's will thriving in his limbs
of an enduring passion for hope
in the dance of stoic joyousness
in the embrace of a Mandela
Not a shaft of light escaped your hunt for
traces of your childhood
nor
were lost the spare airs that filtered through shanty-towns
Your world was a world of people
simple people
going about their chores with premeditated caution
oppressed people
endowed by need with the guile for survival
People for whom you lived
People who live on in your veins
uninterred in your carved canvasses
(Poem read by the author at Sekoto's funeral in Neuilly-sur-Marne, France)
(c) T. Wignesan, Paris - 1993. (Pub. in the Journal of Comparative Poietics , Vol. 2 & 3 (Paris), 1993 & in Poietics: Disquisitions on the Art of Creation. Allahabad: Cyberwit.Net, 2008.)
Happy to be here
Is there someone you know,
who's dark days only grow,
And they can't say, they're happy to be here
When a bright, new day breaks,
but, they're afraid to awake,
And they won't say they're happy to be here
refrain
And they can't say they're happy to be here
There's a rainbow, it's true,
it's color's, fading hues,
And they can't find any joy in living
And a bird when it sings,
doesn't mean anything,
There's no meaning in their song of beauty
Bridge
ooh and I feel bad for them......
ooh and I feel bad for them......
And their friends, family,
just want them to be free,
but their thoughts, keep them enchained, in prison
When their hands and their feet,
have been bound endlessly,
and their only companion is sorrow
And a new day is born,
but they feel so forlorn,
and the echoes just bellow with laughter
refrain
And they can't say their happy to be here
Bridge
oooh and I feel bad for them
oooh and I feel bad for them
Every day is a task,
so they put on new masks,
so that no one can see, they've been crying
Like the tears of a clown,
when no one else is around,
How can anyone know what they're feeling?
Bridge
oooh and I feel bad for them
oooh and I feel bad for them
And they say there's a pill,
but they haven't got the will,
they say no pill, can fill, all that's empty
So they live day to day,
and they kneel down and pray
Please forgive me, dear God, for what I'm thinking
Bridge
oooh and I feel bad for them
oooh and I feel bad for them
So you go the next day,
want to wipe their tears away,
but, you get there, too late, to save them
Bridge
oooh and I feel bad for them
oooh and I feel bad for them
They...
just...
couldn't...
say...
they're...
happy...
to...
be...
here!
John Derek Hamilton
September 06,2016
revised and reposted
December 25,2019
re-posted December 24 2020
Happy to be here
Is there someone you know,
who's dark days only grow,
And they can't say, they're happy to be here
When a bright, new day breaks,
but, they're afraid to awake,
And they won't say they're happy to be here
refrain
And they can't say they're happy to be here
There's a rainbow, it's true,
it's color's, fading hues,
And they can't find any joy in living
And a bird when it sings,
doesn't mean anything,
There's no meaning in their song of beauty
Bridge
ooh and I feel bad for them......
ooh and I feel bad for them......
And their friends, family,
just want them to be free,
but their thoughts, keep them enchained, in prison
When their hands and their feet,
have been bound endlessly,
and their only companion is sorrow
And a new day is born,
but they feel so forlorn,
and the echoes just bellow with laughter
refrain
And they can't say their happy to be here
Bridge
oooh and I feel bad for them
oooh and I feel bad for them
Every day is a task,
so they put on new masks,
so that no one can see, they've been crying
Like the tears of a clown,
when no one else is around,
How can anyone know what they're feeling?
Bridge
oooh and I feel bad for them
oooh and I feel bad for them
And they say there's a pill,
but they haven't got the will,
they say no pill, can fill, all that's empty
So they live day to day,
and they kneel down and pray
Please forgive me, dear God, for what I'm thinking
Bridge
oooh and I feel bad for them
oooh and I feel bad for them
So you go the next day,
want to wipe their tears away,
but, you get there, too late, to save them
Bridge
oooh and I feel bad for them
oooh and I feel bad for them
They...
just...
couldn't...
say...
they're...
happy...
to...
be...
here!
John Derek Hamilton
September 06,2016
revised and reposted
December 25,2019
The curse of an
inflated imagination.
An escarpment of thought
in a blistering mind.
An invasion of insolence
amidst a tempest-tossed
cacophony
of mewling memories.
A throat restricting,
heart galloping,
and eyes trembling.
A voiceless scream for help.
A crouching body
in cold defeat.
A quivering being,
gasping for an
exasperating breath.
Then, a ferociously seized breath -
transplanted
from an enchained soul,
gives birth to grave apathy.
A silent tear dissipates
into an endless ocean
of trepidation.
Off the cape of good hope,
On dead-man’s rocky reef,
A legend from old was born.
Behold The Flying Dutchman,
Phantom’s driven ghost ship.
Seeking infinities isle beyond,
Mortal fleshes reach.
The captains wheel sets a
Study coarse full ahead.
Treachery’s boney skeleton walkers,
Follow his orders without question.
It is the devils own hand picked,
A madman’s crew,
Hell bound disciples riding,
Currents restless waves towards,
Destiny's unknown passages.
The grim reapers soul seekers,
Beware all at sea if you witness,
The Dutchman’s murky birthing.
From depths fathoms below,
Tarred torn canvas sails unfurl,
Upon broken masts covered,
By seaweeds greenish slime.
Under heavy pressures crushing
Weight,
A chilling graveyard of wreckage's,
Carnage exists,
An isolation forgotten realm.
A tidal avalanche, aquatic blues,
Perfect storm envelopes,
Everything in it's destructive path.
Dragging anchors chains behind,
Death's black vessel brakes,
The surfaces tension.
Cutting through the rough waves
At eases pace.
Readily welcoming those lost aboard,
Then she'll dive towards deep waters,
Farthest edge.
Behold The Flying Dutchman’s,
Legend lives forever on.
In nightmares screaming twilight hour,
Another soul becomes enchained.
And a skeleton walker joins,
The devils own.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
As gently, she drifts through the darkness
Waiflike, she flows on the breeze
Her eyes never resting on anyones
Appearing to all Ill at ease
She wades in the depths of her carnage
Pressed by the weight of her sins
The humans, mere collateral damage
Ever conscious the thirst always wins
Her games will be played in the darkness
She's queen of the damned, you're her pawn
And the best, of the worse, you can hope for
Is to last 'til the break of the dawn
Lost in the wonder of bloodlust
A little too long in the tooth
She's witnessed her friends turn to dust
While she Lives on, enchained by her youth
The curse of the love of a demon
Taints the flow of the blood in her veins
It has ended her innocent dreaming
Now none but her nightmare remains
As she calls to the night, ever knowing
Her hunger can never be filled
An insatiable thirst, ever flowing
Through rivers of blood that she's spilled
As Black as the night that enfolds her
As dark as the road that she travels
She moves with the grace of an angel
Whilst waiting for time to unravel
She knows not when she was made
To wear the shackles and rest in pain
It's been ages since she opened these eyes
But they are lying under so many layers
She can see, but the windows are not her own
She can hear but the drums are of someone else
The Rind around her is tight
And suffocating...
She is the reason the Rind exists...
But does It know... Does It appreciate?
What if she tears it apart... And flee..
And why doesn’t she?
Pledges have enchained her?
Or does she reckon flying a sin...?
Eternity is calling its missing partner..
Bells of the Heaven are ringing....
But she hears nothing, for the walls are high
So thick that even celestial voices won't penetrate it
Caged in a body and bodily needs...
She is losing her connection with heavens...
*____________________*
Windows.. Eyes
Drums... Ears
Collegiates and learned mercenaries
Await their time to lead the willing minions
As lemmings, suicide seems ordinary
Both deaf and blind, devoid of all opinions
Ageless as time itself, she waits
An elixir of evolution
Needing no cure, no answers
No humankind solution
What stops us moving forward
What keeps us all enchained
What keeps the starving hungry
What drives a world insane
A galaxy here, a universe there
Speckled by constellations
But man it seems is content to fight
For the sake of his small nation
Black as an empty starless night
Deep as the hungry ocean
Timeless as death, on its endless flight
In a time of perpetual motion
What stops us moving forward
What keeps us all enchained
What keeps the starving hungry
What drives a world insane
When will it end, God only knows
As greed alone inspires us
Old Earth, its very soul exposed
To MAN...IT'S LIVING VIRUS!!!
Descending down the spiral steps to hell;
Acquiesced charcoal in phosphorous glow.
As if enchained by an enchantress’ spell;
Into the flames do I merrily go:
Endeared, the Master speaks ill of my worth
Before softened lips move closer t’wards I;
Lavender fragrance plumes lavishly forth -
My lungs become gills…her perfume is dry.
And as my squalid breath cries out for more
Some might proclaim of me that they’re aghast -
But does the ocean reach for sandy shore?
Such is the case.
As such:
My love is vast.
Thus, to the woman who still takes my breath -
My love will hold for you…until I’m held by death.
(I miss you)
---
1/29/2017
shackled
daily wager
sweat of brow not so sweet
muscle and sinews strain, work out
to earn dough for bread, and to work out, too
cyclic diurnal grind of life
cliched, i know, but true
god's creation
enchained
There is hope for humanity;
we need to learn to get along
and move past the insanity
of doing what we know is wrong.
We left our caves;
then enchained slaves.
Our fate's fueled by vanity;
argumentative and headstrong
we're stewards of profanity
and can't tolerate trust for long.
It all sounds strange;
but we can change.
Babe, if you dance with the Devil
There’s no turning back
He’s lost like a thief in the night
With a soul just as black
The silver that colours his words
Is as fake as his smile
Your Heaven will soon fade to hell
You’ll regret every mile
chorus
You can’t turn your back on the stranger
You live for the lies that he’ll tell
You smile at his charm
As you hang off his arm
Enchained by the grip of his spell
lHe’s seen you before in the eyes
Of a thousand young girls
From the rings on your fingers and toes
To your braids and your curls
He’ll feed you a line from his book
He’ll promise it all
And he knows that you’ll bite
Cos you’ve always been willing to fall
chorus
You can’t turn your back on the stranger
You live for the lies that he’ll tell
You smile at his charm
As you hang off his arm
Enchained by the grip of his spell
No he don’t know you at all
You’ll change him for sure
The innocence there in your eyes
Is your means to his cure
But think once again and again
Is it worth getting burned
The sweetness you give him
Won’t change him and won’t be returned
Her lost dreams resurface in the ripples of the creek.
Her eyes burn in flame-dance to rhythm of the drumbeat.
Mirrored on the water's face, buffalo graze on open plain.
Braves panther-stalk near, bows drawn with deadly aim.
Love clouded her vision, heartbeat obscured her sense.
Tall strength and laughing eyes weakened her defense.
Her man lies underground, buried the white man's way.
Yet in this foreign world, she's enchained to stay.
Regret burns a ragged scar, sorrow carries on the wind.
She craves arms to hold her or the comfort of a friend.
She honors the Great Spirit for her one strong son;
but with seven younger, her trek's hardly begun.
Her son echoes his father, Irish and Red Blood mixed;
may his iron pride avert the arrows his life inflicts.
But this brew is bitter; she sips its scalding flow
with an unnamed longing, and hunger for buffalo.
This is the Simplest alibi of this timeless magnum Opus, that I am not the capital
This is a point of exclamation in me, that I am not the majestic warrior
eternal.
Only one hope is remaining there, and up she goes, in round and round
I will be there, with you, to the farthest, along a shore of life, predestined.
In a lonely lit-up night, an enchanted one, the midnight hymn came as mine
My beloved, your face had the bliss of a smile line, my chime.
In one unbearable moon-lit day, when the solar lamp dimmed low
I knocked at your door, there
Weaving some knick knack, words sounding pretty, I yearned for you.
My love, where art thou?
I’m the center. You are my encircled bohemian, the only eternal , staying there that remains!
I’m the empire in your submerging love, an entropy ruling in me, all that fall short in sense!
I’m the center. You are my encircled bohemian, the only eternal , staying there that remains!
I’m the empire in your submerging love, an entropy ruling in me, all that fall short in sense!
Love, an endless epic for poets, wandering swiftly through the reigning gypsy times.
For no good reason, a blister in a scorching hot sandy dune, then a sleepy oasis chimes.
I thought that I’m an exception there, a loner , far from the madding crowd.
Too cuddly a love, only a mannerism, words are often playing there, as it could.
Why are you that smile at me that rules me often on the full swing whim?
Why are you that sweet poem on a versed phone call, in words of a brim?
Today, you’re a enchained latitude in my gaze, too long a brushstroke in my palette
I am a helpless frozen teardrop there, brittled.
I’m the center. You are my encircled bohemian, the only eternal , staying there that remains!
I’m the empire in your submerging love, an entropy ruling in me, all that fall short in sense!
I reached the domain of stardom, from the Jupiter to the saturn
A nomadic I, traveler through your passion of love, in high, a mere elongation. Expression.
I’m the center. You are my encircled bohemian, the only eternal , staying there that remains!
I’m the empire in your submerging love, an entropy ruling in me, all that fall short in sense!
From across the sea.
She inspired me.
I don't know how or why.
Her words, went deep.
And made me cry.
Stirring memories, of the past.
Dreams, that did not last.
Burst my heart and made me gasp.
Like new, I remember true.
Every little thing I do.
No regrets or wish I had not.
A full life I had, and enjoyed the lot.
Wish I could have another go.
Another chance to show.
That yes is better than no.
What it was like to be young.
Things which I have done.
Now, in this old body enchained.
I hobble around, maimed.
Wishing I was like I used to be.
Refreshed, renewed and ready to be.
Your fantastic, energetic me.
..................................................