Best Plantation Poems
Looks like dem old ugly chains
got a new modern face
Beauty upgrade ... high-end cosmetic tech;
low-cost dressed in labor modest,
minimum maintentance convenience
From da delta plain sugar cane fields,
to the glamorous Silicon Valley hills:
Ancient bigotry of blood biochemistry
required some thinking ahead
Remove dem outdated iron appendages
from da carbon-based legs
Loose dem fettered bodies from da plantation
That warm-hearted gesture
was prompted by the cold realization
of mechanized industrialization
Machines worked tirelessly better than humans,
with zero margin error for rebellion
From da poppy-white numb cotton field chores,
to the black-site, laboratory rat maze corridors:
Modern slavery has been plastic,
guinea pig perfected;
Darkly spirit heavy iron chains
got replaced by skin light bar codes,
and microscopic nanobyte pain
in the nether layers of the epidermal
From plantation to implantation ...
total body control to full mind control
Invisible chains is a better option
From forced emancipation to voluntary enslavement ...
necessity of convenience shackles the soul
Grateful servitude is a Dead adoption
Go sing illusory freedom, spiritual songs
in an unseen force-field:
Laser etched number scrip plantation
Eat, drink and be merry, ye bonded bones ...
harvest a bountiful yield
Give curses to the marked implantation —
corrupt binary code command subjugation
The Mephistophelean workplace
is a future-now,
internal space Gulag situation ...
an augmented field mule muzzled occupation
With plenty of open-air, coffin acerage:
rows and rows
of furrowed thought manipulation
Dem New Age lobotomy slaves
be toiling on a grave condition plantation,
whose dirt cellular
cubic dimensions are:
Six-by-six-by-six injected damnation
I did not have much of a thing with mosquitoes. That is until we visited
a famous plantation home on the Cape Fear river near Wilmington,
North Carolina one summer. We were especially excited to view
Orton Plantation's extensive flower gardens.
But, soon as we all climbed out of the car. we were attacked by black
clouds of the insects even though we had on repellent. We ran back to the car
with my young nephew crying and screaming, "We're not going to ever come
back here, are we?"
So ended that memorable trip covered with hundreds of itchy bites.
river still
thousands of lotus blossoms
look up at the sun
Published - Cattails - Spring- 2016
I got nothin' but time on my hands
as I work in the fields all day long
O Lord, come and free my soul,
whenever I sing this here plantation song
I wanna be free
Take me to your mountain top
I wanna feel glee
I heard Canaan is a beautiful spot
I've worked so hard for so many years,
it's a crying shame to be so sad
I've tried real hard to hold back these tears;
not to rattle these here chains,
not to stay so bitterly mad
I just wanna be free
Take a walk to your mountain top
It would make me and my wife so happy,
we both believe Canaan is a beautiful spot
Time always seems to pass so fast,
whenever I sing this here plantation song
I know one day you gonna come back,
O Lord, to make right this awful wrong
You gonna set me free,
so I can go rejoicing
and singing on your mountain top
Me and my whole family
will tell everyone that Canaan is a heavenly spot
and what place is this,
she asked intrigued,
young non-binary ignorant of everything
that did not refer to gender.
-in this orchard I harvest our future tumor,
I told him, who was still amazed,
the bulging eyes of a student
doing his school research.
here I pick the transgenic apples,
I said, showing her the basket full of fruit.
-I drink boxed juices, he said;
there are vitamins in them,
it's written in the app...
and then he said his sister is autistic
and she loves to sit in the kitchen,
turning on and listening to the microwave sound.
a small plane dropped the defensive
and we saw the most colorful rainbow in the world
like a soda label on the plantation.
we will have a good harvest this year, I said.
guarantee of a good contract with the hospital,
I said smiling sarcastically.
seriously, she asked and i left the question sound
echo among the small apple trees in the orchard.
now the moon was smearing silver
a grayish sunset remnant.
then, an almost translucent father arrived
with the electric car, shaved face
of those who work with e-commerce.
from the window he said: we had dinner at nine,
let's go girl!
and I imagined this family under the LED lights,
charging cell phones beside the bed,
modern people with medical plans
that cover almost everything.
I said goodbye while turning on the flashlight.
at night I look for maggots in the apples,
but I never found any of them.
summer's be still,will
thrill of it is,im new here
will go for her there
of how it was and how it is,
perchance the master gets his turn the whiz,
where they roll back time,
perhaps ther-is vengeance,
in an ironic situation,
on the plantation of Damnation...
the Lord thy God, is subtle, is.
Don
re: Father and Son by Dave Williams
about the old south and the bad treatment of the slave by the master....
The plantation house stood
Old and broken.
Flowers once lined the walk
Leading to the front steps.
To the left of the door
Sits a very small room.
The glass is broke and
The sun makes it past the dirt.
Light can be seen from
The very small children which
Walk past – both black and white.
Inside the room sits a black woman
Dressed and a slave.
Her chair rocks, blowing
The dust – breathing
To the motion of the
Many children laughing together.
The puffs of dust help the old
Woman see the smiling faces.
As the children have done
For many, many years. They
Joined hands and danced.
The woman smiled as she saw
The circles free of dust
Dotting the floor in every room.
An Old Plantation
While walking by an old planation
Heard them singing an incantation
And when I started to go upstairs
Found find poet who always cares
About my poems and great creation.
Jim Horn
Do you look at yourself in the mirror?
I do.
Beyond the disgusting husk and rotten teeth and dark circles
I see someone who wasn't meant to be
Somene who does not wish to be here anymore
Also can be spied a collection of scars
Both on the exterior of this shell
And some on the mind inside of it as well
These last ones
The ones that doesn't go away, not even with time.
Only the desiring eyes can see
Even so, most choose to ignore
And put in motion machinations to make some new ones
To live, to die.
What holds one from making this decision?
The hope to hear some pleasant lies.
To be somebody to someone
The illusion of happiness
Those three words are worth nothing
And them are worth of even less yet
When sprouting from the other's mouth
Whose heart is bound to someone else
The lies that make you want to die.
Now, the time is nigh
The time to end it all.
But, just to be there one more time
Just to be there with you
Better to keep it in my head
Without forgetting that once someone made you want to die
Amidst the other lies and delusions
And, then, ignite the gunpowder.
Corn plantation
C-call mama and tell her
O-over here is not easy
R-rest is far from my soul
N-not when am an immigrant
P-place on a last class
L-laying here and planting corn
A-annoys me why I miss home mama
N-never I dreamt of this
T-type of life
A-all the time I wonder how you doing mama
T-till the day I see you again
I-I will be glad to be free
O-only home sweet home
N-nothing but home I miss
after bend off road
gentle green is appearing
soothing cane vast field
if you go south
still that rout
no doudt
theyer still there
so you're be aware
this sign in not blind
an not aumation
its say
PLANTATION
I will not dibble anymore
even i sow with best seeds
I plant apple, I reap. lemon
I broadcast love, I harvest weeds
Creation of a Plantation
We constantly conserved for creation,
Of a pretty place having a plantation;
Where had been,
Programmed in;
Here where America is a new nation.
Jim Horn
Who dares to serve me tea with lemon?!
On my own plantation born in heaven
Flowing in the land of milk and honey
For the good of all humanity... SOMEONE
He, she, it or them must be punished
Perhaps eradicated is the proper term
Bring me a rope, a tree and a culprit
That they might dangle in the wind
Wrath is a wondrous thing...don't you think?
Who dares to come between me and proper tea?!
For this outrage someone must pay a penalty
It's an atrocity, a crime, a sin against all things green
How does one make a perfect day complete you ask?
Preferably with a lemon tree and someone swinging from it
The blossoms are so sweet...as my tea should be
Tea with honey, served with toast, crunchy on both sides
Orange juice, freshly squeezed and a smiley face is sweet
It is what we call justice here in the south
But now comes breakfast with a biter taste
With someone swinging by the ancient porch
Under the golden sun and canopy of love
To their biter end
Lemon flowers are so pretty and serene
In fact intoxicating as we watch the hired help
Dangling between the lovely branches
A hard days work for honest wages
Is what it is all about...here in the south