Long Degradation Poems
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OF AN EBONY HUED MID-SUMMER NIGHT DREAM
(Apropos of We Kings, Queens, and The Fiery Furnace)
Indeed, this is a day the Lord has made:-
Considering last night’s revelation dreaming,
Waking up into this day the Lord has made,
I must enjoy and be glad for being still vertical.
Although “The Great Dream” may have been deferred,
Indeed, it has not been forgotten and deterred.
Oh, they may have murdered its dreamer, but
His and our liberation dream is immortal:-
Looking out over the horizon of our challenged life,
It is realized that we Exodus people have come a long way;
Survivors of the blood-stained shadows of horrific death:-
And we have come this far on the sojourn by faith.
Yes, we have come this far by an inherent faith—continuing
To maintain and sustain us in the present perils of our lives:-
And as African-Americans, surviving in this deemed “promise land”,
We’ve had and continue to have a special kind of relationship with God.
During our living experiences here during and after debilitating slavery,
We’ve seen, heard, felt, and responded to the Word of God in ways that
Are unique to us as an African people of God; for indeed, as chosen ones,
We’ve always been able to sing and praise God in truth and in holy spirits.
Reflecting on the truth of ourstory, it is realized that we are of a people
Whom many would have expected to have stopped singing and praying
A long time ago; yet, from generation to generation, we’ve just kept on
Singing and praising and trusting in the love of God and His redemption.
Indeed, sacred revelations continue to bring us from extermination
To exaltation, from degradation of dignity, from nobody to somebody;
With wide wondering eyes on the prize, we continue to sojourn onward
For our eyes have seen His glory as we have continued marching in His truth.
Indeed, we not only believe but know that in the savior’s favor
Life is and while our perils may endure here a little while longer,
We know that a liberating joyful stay here on earth is on the horizon
Promised by that very present help to those who live in good trouble;
Thus, let us not be exhausted nor deterred by the ghost tyranny
But with undying faith and spiritual strength, let us victoriously
Demonstrate that we are not of the children of Sisyphus’ fate;
But living reflections of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego:-
Dear ......,
Its over, it's finished, I mean it - we're through!
I thought it was me but now know it was you.
I'm done with your lies, your greed, my fixation
insatiable urge that precedes degradation.
It's cost me too much this affair of ours;
this obsession consumed me for years, days and hours.
Without you I'm free to flourish and thrive,
my sparkle returns, with my passion and drive.
The skin of shame peels slowly and soon
I'll be free of your poison and flee my cocoon.
Your shadow remains and lurks all around,
One chink in my armour and soon you'll surround.
You'll smother me at my lowest ebb
and lure me back to your toxic web.
But once for you is never enough
I know that now, the truth is tough..
Ill never again succumb in your midst
to false claims of confidence, courage and grit.
Without you I'm changing, my fashion bespoke
One day you'll crawl past my invisible cloak.
My skin glows, my waist shrinks, my hair is now glossy.
My tissues are mending, my sick genes less bossy!
I hear peace without your seductive whisper
My heart thaws and ventures into the vista
I can search my soul and not feel empty:
the void replaced, my hope is plenty!
I'm starting to use the gifts that you hid,
The girl in the mirror is lifting her lid.
Peering into the world, clear eyes bright and blue
I touch, taste and smell, inhaling the view.
Less fear of your fog clouding my vision.
I love what I see, painting colours my mission...
When you rap on my brain, trying to grab my attention
I delve into my toolbox of mental distractions.
You'll lure me and stalk like the fool that you are
just to tempt me, just one, its only a jar...
My shield will deflect you with super-girl force!
My willpower steely, your shadow a ghost.
Your influence dwindles the stronger I grow'
your blood sucking shackles bleed into the snow.
Like the “matchstick girl” I've seen the light.
Your shadow shrivels GIVE UP this fight!
You're losing, you're fading your voice is diminished.
Superfluous now, I don't need you - it's finished!
I'm saying so long, it was fun while it lasted.
Move on, to more fish you'll be flabbergasted..
There are many lost souls in this world to seduce
Not me though, not I, I'm cutting loose.
Its time to say goodbye cruel friend
I'm out, this really is the end!
Samantha Malone, December 2020.
Where does my conscious go, when demons raise their fiery eyes,
They steal my very soul, killing all which is sanctified,
Engulfed by instant fears, no longer hearing loved ones cries,
The beast within appears, telling me I am justified,
I have already lost, no reprieve from my mortal sin,
All reason now is blocked, as I become the beast within,
No pity can I feel, as I make my grandiose stand,
Yes the horror is real, as I destroy all that I can,
Where do my feelings go, when demons raise their snarling lips,
Bringing an all new low, into my life now torn to bits,
Certain of being right, I flail and thrash as if in fits,
I threaten and I strike, with great fury the demon spits,
Yet I still stand and shout, my ugly hate and derision,
Accusing lies said out loud, revolting words - degradation,
Just look at what I’ve done, I scream my blatant confession,
Ready to blame anyone, for my evil molestation,
Where does my true love go, when demons raise their gruesome head,
Destroying all I know, without slightest hesitation,
There is no where to hide, hideous deeds - infinite dread,
Shame crushes senseless pride, nothing left but devastation,
Recoiling in horror, reality enters the room,
Now begins the torture, judgment of my now mortal soul,
The evil that is me, my conscious has become my tomb,
I look and all I see, marks my spirit and takes its toll,
Where does salvation go, when demons raise their awful screech,
Making damnation grow, as dark shadows envelope me,
How can I persevere, and escape from this demon’s reach,
For he is always near, and may kill eventually,
Cold and chilling insight, I now realize what is at stake,
And the one path which might, protect the ones I truly love,
But how can I just leave, this world I worked so hard to make,
And cause even more grief, for family and God above.
Where does my resolve go, when demons raise their deadly claws,
Tearing at all I know, stealing my conscious care and pride,
I can’t run anymore, all is destroyed everything lost,
Now beaten tired and sore, I’ve lost my path into the light,
Who can I reach out to, when all I love recoil in fear,
Eyes beseech black and blue, where once was love - now only hate,
Yes I know - I’m the cause, the reason for each falling tear,
And while demons give pause, I must face my terrible fate.
Form:
Under the delicate veil of reality, unseen worlds weave webs of mystery,
There, beneath the clear surface, lie extinguished universes, full of hidden stories.
I floated like a child in a dream, feeling the call of these distant realms,
With no proof in hand, just a deep premonition that magic and mystery walk hand in hand.
In the blue sky and the scent of flowers, there are mirrors of hidden goodness,
But in the same breath mingles a wild force, a pain that kisses the edge of being.
Every petal that unfolds under the sun hides a shadow of old, forgotten times,
A dance of secret degradation, painting the world in hues of melancholy.
Under the starry mantle of enchanted nights, when the stars pour into unknown waters,
We feel the echo of another existence, a deep murmur that disturbs our peace.
And thus, in every blooming flower, in every dream that takes flight,
Light and darkness mix, writing an unwritten story of an unseen destiny.
Our lives are symptoms of an ancient spell, a dance of shadows and light,
Where beauty and suffering entwine in a world of shimmering metaphors.
We are but travelers through these constellations hidden beneath the daily venom,
Wandering through worlds of curves and extinguished fires, seeking a revived dawn.
Our eyes are gates to those parallel universes,
Where every moment of joy is shadowed by a tear of eternity.
We are born from stars, but carry within us the ashes of extinguished galaxies,
And in the infinite waltz, we laugh and cry, gathering star memories in unknown hearts.
So, when we gaze at the sky, the blooming, and hear the silence of enchanted nights,
Let us know that beneath every heartbeat lies a flicker of unseen sadness,
That beauty and pain are two mirrored skies,
And only by accepting this dual symphony can we understand the deep magic of life.
In temples forgotten by time, in rivers singing old ballads,
We find echoes of those deep realms, where light and shadow dance together,
And thus, in every moment of life, in every childhood dream,
We learn that magic hides precisely in this ethereal duality.
Let us live, then, with hearts open to both beauty and pain,
To seek those secret worlds beyond the daily veil,
And to breathe their magic, letting our hearts sing,
Even when the echoes of pain whisper their old secrets under enchanted skies.
And soon you will see that inside every impossible is the word “possible”…if only we dare to see it. - TerKeurst, Lysa. What Happens When Women Say Yes to God Devotional (p. 40). Harvest House Publishers. Kindle Edition.
Philippians 4:7 (KJV) “And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”
Struggling with stressful situations,
I ask myself – can I possibly overcome?
Fighting my fears, the darkness,
I wonder, can I silence the doubts?
Find answers in the quest?
Can I work through the sorrows?
Let faith paint my heart in hopeful?
Fraught with worries and pain,
I cling to the shadows, marveling –
Can I make it through the greyest rain?
Can I reach beyond my dread, my despair?
Find a way through the desperation?
Grief and grace – both a part of my heart,
Can I listen to the beautiful?
And, erase the sadness that staggers me?
Resisting the demons who torment me…
With shame and guilt, humiliation,
Can I let go of the disgrace, the dishonor?
Find a way through the embarrassment?
Reach beyond the indignity, into the promise…
Bold and brave, the feelings that save me,
From the degradation… feelings of self-respect,
Brought to life despite a life that can reject.
Struggling to learn, to grow, to become –
I ask myself often – can I possibly find my way,
Through the aching, through the sorrows,
Through the disappointments and discouragements?
Can I reach beyond all the reasons –
I have for giving up on my dreams, my beliefs…
And find the courage to listen to God’s promises,
His light shining through my darkest dread,
His assurance filling me with faith,
His kindness reminding me that I am still His,
Despite all the fears, the tears, the years…
When I felt like I couldn’t make it through the hard,
When I wasn’t sure I was meant to know hope,
When I couldn’t let go of the panic in my heart?
Struggling on, I realize – He is my guide,
And, though I may feel like giving up on this life,
I know that, with Him by my side – I’ll find the light,
The lesson, the grace that I need to realize my dreams,
The promise of a joy beyond anything I’d expect to see,
A moment when my prayer is answered by His love,
And, just for a while, there is peace in my world.
What is time?
But a rotation of the planets,
A love gone to the wind,
Or a setting of the sun?
Sometimes we can’t tell the day,
But by the bottle we drink.
Or the books I read,
…Plato, Steinbeck, and old Walts leaves.
What is art?
But a set of statements,
An aesthetic feeling,
Or a theory on communication?
And other times I sit in the wind,
Nostalgic story’s swim in the chaos of thoughts.
A world of energy measured by mass,
To the speed of light,
…Have you ever seen God?
Or a rope strung to the choking of seeds?
Submission,
Submission,
A world I don’t want to keep.
Do you know what it is to hurt?
Love burnt to a gravitational hole,
Failure that sticks like a parasite
…to the bone.
Loss of light,
Loss of touch,
Loss of comprehension,
It hurts so much.
Here we dwell where time has no meaning,
A court of the gods,
With a promised feast
Consumed by gluttonous dogs.
Out in the hills we roam,
Lost like infantile, mad children.
To a hunt of tragedy,
Is the mistake of Cephalus.
Can you feel the cold chill,
The rains of pain?
The wind is our home,
And a soft mad echo
Speaks to us,
…what is it saying?
What does it mean,
To be?
Standing one with nature,
Crouched by a river,
Can we interpret the drones
Of a suburban family?
They speak of regulation,
And hold a working class hero
As the sweets of moderation.
Doesn’t the road of excess
Lead us to the palace of wisdom,
And can’t we say truth
Is but of a relative nature?
But behold,
I believe in a long
Derangement of the senses
To
Obtain
The
Unknown.
Though, What is life?
Art, poetry, a figment of the imagination.
The skeptic concludes
To a weak will.
The artist spins a love
Of
Degradation.
The contemplative
Reaches the of height of formation.
The meaning,
What is reason for the meaning?
A will, a thought, a spinning of a thread,
Or,
The fabrics of dread.
Two paths, one entity,
A system from a creed of deities.
Can you speak when I say,
“Reckless abandonment,
Deranged lonely nights,
Failed plains inside the mind.
So useless to try,
The common misperceptions of what’s right,
And the twinkle of tears gone by,
…Welcome to life.”
Form:
You’d been drinking and I disgusted you.
I knew it was the end.
The tears I shed were real – even if chemically enhanced.
You were so bitter; the look on your face told the story.
There was not even pity left.
Each tear falling in vain from my gaunt and empty eyes.
A tear for each: pride, dignity and self control.
My final humiliation.
You couldn’t know, and couldn’t afford to care,
Not any more.
I was already gone, everyone knew but me.
I had sold my soul for mortar in my walls.
My words had become distorted and lost so long ago.
My feelings had become diluted lies,
fed by the sickness I called friend.
In the midst of my degradation you said stay.
I told you if I did I’d never go ( another lie. )
I was searching your face for a deeper truth,
something other than cool repulsion.
Looking back you knew, you knew even more than I.
The addiction would have all of me-
would have everything.
Even love couldn’t hold it off, of course I’d go ( I always go.)
“ This was thee end of my reverence”
The prelude to my final descent into inadequacy-
the testament of a fool.
This wouldn’t be the last time I embarrassed myself,
but it would be the last time I cared.
I would see you again, of course I would,
there was just too much left to dissipate.
I would carve an image deep inside - “ a memory ”
The golden light In your hair as you sat,
guitar in your lap, half hearted smiles,
attempts too believe ,
attempts to give me back a piece of myself,
pieces that no longer fit.”
Not even your love, our love,
could save me now.
As much as I wanted not to be what I was,
there was nothing that could set me free.
My fate had been sealed long before you.
The years to come would bring the suffering I’d always wanted
and the memory of you would be the sharpest knife of all.
The one to haunt my dreams.
The one to drive my days,
in my inane such for deeper meaning,
something to tell me I hadn’t been mistaken my whole life, some relief from my bitter truth.
So this was the end.
I surrendered to my failure.
I walked out, I left.
And nothing has ever been the same,
I’ve never been the same.
And I never forgot…
Form:
Workin' fo’ free from cradle ta grave
Laborin' sunup ta sundown e’eryday,
while Missy and Massa sat in da shade
Those were da days
Us darkies knew where our place was then,
blonde ambition wish fo' freedom was a sin
Sho’ could use a good *****
like Mister Uncle Tom again
Givin’ a big pearly grin ta greet da hate,
got a ‘xtra dollop of chitlings on da plate
Man, dem auctions, dey ne’er did run late
Those were da days
Pickin' ‘o cotton was a prickly prayer sent,
wearin’ dem chains made da soul feel bent
Runaway blues was da best song ta lip hint
Those were da days
Sunday was da fav’rite time of da week,
us tar babies got no spittin’ on da cheek
Still, we weren’t allowed shoes on da feet,
seems da hounds need a scent in da heat
Thirsty breaks always were short not long,
ere by da hangin’ tree rest da buried bones
Plantation livin’ made us boys ne’er grown
Those were da days
Thus, were the miserable days of being a slave
When America get great again,
will me and my kin get Hebrew reparation paid?
400 years has been a long time ...
Us dark faces have did a lot of siren crying,
and a whole lot of lynched dying
Our stolen heritage
was shipped in a cargo of lying
Yeah, 400 years is a very long,
solitary time ...
We’re the chained cursed ones cast in prison
Us Dante portrait byword souls
got framed for the crime
Degradation is our father,
poverty is our mother
Pain is my sister,
anger is my brother
Airy abolition nary hope got ferry shackled in leg iron —
Sepia sea cheeks kissed by a whip and a gun
was our stern, captivating reality
When robo machines got to do the labor fun,
we were allowed
to escape into color-blind fantasy
Emancipated drugs
was the cracked pipe crystal meth mirror
of our downtrodden opioid liberty
Birth of a Cloudy Eye Nation ...
only twin native promises ever given to us strangers:
Two four-letter swear words —
Jobs and Work
Guess being the reel son of a slave,
means a re-run of the old ways
Vanilla ghetto dreams rooted in the red dirt:
Plantation flowers misty tear-watered
under a cold, Northern blue sky ...
turning suddenly hot, Southern gray
Ain't no IQ need to wonder why —
Future past, these now be those days
Today is an another wobbly morning where I have opened my eyes to collect my pieces and recollect the transient peace of last night which soon gave it's way to a tentative traumatising earthquake and perhaps this morning I found myself lying in the epicentre of breakage , placed perfectly in the centre or our bed to fill the space occupied by you during the transient peace of last night .
Today is an another wobbly morning and I have rubber my eyes and I finally saw you , beautiful as you were , beautiful as you are , beautiful as you will be . I feel you are somewhat monumental , you love is monumental , monumental to this earthquake that shook us both but broke me , your highness stands tall , brave , unruptured , magnificent and historic , you are not affected by earthquakes because you are too old and too strong to break into pieces , I am new to this business of handling earthquakes with historic love monuments like you .
So today is another normal day , I have forgotten this earthquake between us and now I slightly shifted to the other side of the bed , I noticed your breakages , darling you too have breakages in you , forced love inscriptions and patriarchal letters you too have been ravaged maybe this is experience but you too are affected by this earthquake as I put my hands on your monumental skin I notice painted wounds so fresh yet so beautifuly old too , I see you have been gazed , praised and misused by many but I notice you are peacefuly placed here in front of me sleeping in my memory , did you rebuilt yourself in my memory ?
So here I am shifting completely towards you near this epicentre again to make and break myself into your archaeologist to explore you as much as I can , I am not like those professionaly perfect guides you met earlier , I am your archaeologist and you are my passion not a business of benifit .
So the next time I'll dive deeper and deeper into your exploration an paste a warning board on you that any further mark of touch would be a direct offence to this government called me.
Today is the aftermath of this earthquake and you are still monumental but this time magnificent in my memory and warning board of no degradation , regardless of public misuse , you are mine .
i do not fear the legislation of man
or the degradation of individual rights.
i do not fear instant gratification
as it's message more aggressively rapes every outlet of entertainment,
even in seeing how it tears into our children.
i do not fear it.
i do not wonder why the dark side has power.
i do not wonder why kids don't respect adults and adults don't respect each other.
i do not wonder why there's so much death and murder and sickness and divorce.
i do not wonder why the clubs are full and churches are empty and abortion is legal.
i do not wonder.
today is the day people are making the choice of just who it is they serve.
today is the day the family bond is broken over self-importance, power-struggles, and sexual deviance.
today is the day that those who lead, prey on those who have trusted them and disarm those who knew better.
today is the day we have to lock our cars and our doors and our hearts.
today is that day.
but know this:
no law of any government can direct the heart of man.
no restriction can limit his ultimate rebellion,
and no physical depravity, his spiritual.
you can keep a tiger in a cage.
you can restrict his consumption to strictly vegetarian.
you can train him to sit and stand on command,
and to jump through hoops
and to walk on fire.
but you can never make him anything other than a tiger.
there is a much larger issue that is being clouded with the debris of the American constitution and its amendments-
an issue that reaches deep inside the being of a human, into what makes a man a man.
it is not our civil liberties we are being robbed of;
it's our hope, our faith, our strength.
it is not our personal security that is being invaded;
it's our minds, our morals, our purity.
it is not our children's sensitive psyches we are protecting;
it's our comfort, our feelings, ourselves.
it is not fetal tissue we are throwing away;
it's our children, our responsibility, our future.
see, humanity as a whole will arrive to the destination,
but each individual will be responsible for how we get there.
consider what's more important; what you do or what you know,
and remember that out of your heart will the entirety of your actions flow.