Long Slave Poems
Long Slave Poems. Below are the most popular long Slave by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slave poems by poem length and keyword.
Poor or too rich,
different in form or race?
Remain slave to no opinion,
identity is a label for a can of beans.
Nothing living and upright
need bow
to a tribal or common hitch or halter.
When they call you this and that,
every badge they pin on you
is a disguised condescension.
To them you will always be
a victim of low expectations.
Man is your name and woman your truth.
When they come to you
with their polls, clipboards,
their pandering unctuousness,
look them in the eye,
say: ‘I am one of a kind,
a race of becoming giants,
a living spirit of God,
imperfect - yes
but I can be seen clearly,
while you
live in the shadow of a lie.’
(Girl playing, Tibet, 2009)
Memories of a Slave
The world, at least my world, is nothing if not predictable.
There are moments however when the Sun breaks through
and a real unexpected, enlightening, light shines.
Usually this is in dreams when I begin to float or fly,
but sometimes it’s just as simple as laughing
at the absurd twist of something someone says.
The effect though is joy, a moment of euphoria
when something is released, someone liberated.
I wonder about this
what its evolutionary purpose is
(rewarding innovation and novelty perhaps?),
but it strikes me as true
kindling a memory
that runs deeper than my own life,
or place in evolution,
that this is just the joy of someone,
who has been a slave from beginningless time,
when they get a momentary glimpse
beyond the ties that bind.
(12/13/23)
me and my big fat ego failed the business
i swim in a sea of red because of my fat ego
everyone tells me this
but i dont want to listen
i run a fast food restaurant like a McDonald
instead of stimulating the business
doing the marketing, research and development
public relations etc
i rather flip burgers
you heard right, flip burgers
i flip burgers like a slave, sacrificing life
because of my fat ego
you heard right
my big fat ego
people ask me why
why, why
i tell them i flip burgers
to top the leader-board of most burgers flipped in a day
to me thats more important than the business
... to top the leader board ...yep
...and have best flipping burgers of all time.. yep
that right
it goes back to my big fat ego
theres was also stipulation that a burger flipper can only win once
so what i did ..i'm so shrewd
because of my big fat ego
is that i flip burgers under different aliases
dont i have them fooled?
me best burger flipper of all time
yet my restaurant is drowning in whine
... me and my big fat ego failed the business
leading me into being in denial, losing my inhibitions
and talking about my personal life at work instead
of being abstract
connie pachecho
2/14/17
You won't be remembered as a marvel
Or a joy or a pleasure or anything
You won't be loved or hated or thought of
Your memory will marinade in malaise like nothing
Will your friends think of you when you expire?
Only when they send some flowers with the local bargain boy slave.
Which don't matter when you're lying dead
Decaying ten feet under the ground in a maggot-filled grave.
The moon will die and be reborn,
But you will simply die and lie in the ground.
Your soul will not climb into your body like a child into bed
Your body will sit there, eyeless, tongueless without a sound
There is no need to break you,
For you are not worth breaking
You are not alive, only existing,
Never sleeping, never waking,
I wouldn't laugh in the face of your pride,
For that would be a cruel joke,
Because what have you to take pride in,
Nothing said, laughed, loved, spoke,
Words exchanged, souls trembled,
Where are you going with your life?
Not that it would matter whether you live
Or die. Shoot, aim, fire, strife.
I wouldn't shed tears for your years,
Because that would make your mother cry
But how I'd love to repeat and repeat
The same words that will ring in my brain until I die:
In an instant, man will fall and what did it
Matter?
In an instant, the earth will burn and what did it
Matter?
In an instant, the sky will tremor and what did it
Matter? Who will remember the time you hurt your knee,
But you didn't cry and no one said you were
brave?
In a moment, the memories will wash into the dunes and what did it
Matter?
What did it matter? What did it matter? What did it matter?
What did it matter? What did it matter?
Matter?
Matter?
I myself, more than society am I
A delusional world beyond belief struggle
Or obstacle of movement as a mountain
Controversy world torn between two souls
One heart's breathe to survive who we are
Kind soul that its anger rage so
Killer instinct the body feels excite
Even killer smiles behind face hidden
Lost being in ourselves a unseen truth
They kill the truth, sparing their tears
A society gone mad, controversy wars rein
Crying helplessly from darkness ruins
Destroy all that is good kings shout
Slave to man for their greed we feed
Only you be chosen, your innocent free
Convicted by words, right or wrong
In ourselves we fight in contamination
A poison of blood drips a fiercely change
Or just who we are, we are not same
The one I know before controversy hit
Who are we that cities..lives are devastated
People die, hunger, homeless; veterans forgotten
That even in ourselves we forget one
As world go extinct, nature barely existence
Controversy, no longer word but a problem
It’s said the great Michaelangelo
had considered himself as a foe
to a rival of his.
You should know who this is -
Da Vinci, the great Leonardo!
So why would the one so dislike
the other? I bet as a tyke
Michaelangelo would
tell his foe, if he could:
“You’re a dreamer, so go take a hike!”
Yes, a dreamer was popular Leo,
and he did all his artwork so slow.
he’d finish so little
that here is the riddle:
Why did everyone like that guy so?
While Michael was giving his all,
Leo faltered and then he would stall.
A mural he tried,
changed the paint and got fried.
The guy could not finish a wall!
Michaelangelo worked like a slave.
To the world a great chapel he gave.
While Da Vinci would play
with his rich friends all day,
Michael worked himself into the grave!
For Marugu Mo's Contest: Historical rivalry-Part 1- Leonardo vs Michaelangelo
ROCKING CHAIR EXTENDS
Narrator attention
An Old Man speaks
Sharing stories
Past with a wonder
Years upon Years from yonder
Seen, Heard and Endured
Slavery was more than a word
Beaten and clothes torn
Wounds to display
They were not tattoos
Surrendering my flesh, soul and spirit
Do unto having no response
Under the hot sun, it was work on the plantation fields
Given a name not your own
You couldn’t pause in working
It was work, work and work
You thirsted for water and received none
Given commands by the plantation owners
It wasn’t easy being a slave
One had to behave
Dignity had to be private within
Pride was held within the mind
As the sun rose daily, it was the dreadful days again of pain and agony
As a Slave, you wanted to read, but it was an effort
Nights became sleepless nights
Twist and turn
Dreams nothing more than actual nightmares
Pure reality kicking in
Daily wonder if you would survive
I saw my fellow slaves die and buried in nameless graves
The thought would I be next
I am an old man with wisdom
One day I will be going home to the kingdom
Today’s youngsters think they know it all
I was once
Now an Old Man that understands and conquered
Speaking from my own lessons taught through experience
Wonderfully made through Heaven’s influence
My eyes grow dim and weak
My footsteps slower
My understanding firm and strong
The rocking chair being the wonder and my dialog honest and true
The one who sits
Narrator encounter now, and tomorrow the kingdom’s rise.
Journey Journal Page
CODE SAD MODE
By Leon Enriquez
My heart knows how love hurts
Blush of wild fling casts dirt
By day sad dreary hues
By night pain comes on cue
My soul feels turmoil brief
As sadness marks high grief
My distress gropes and sways
Now I feel slow time slay
My pain seeps through my veins
I feel loss pique disdain
Upon my bed I feel
Fatigue as hurts distills
~~~~~~~~~
My tale of anguish drains
Cold blaze burns all in vain
Yet pain grounds me right here
A slave as fear endears
My days are spent most sad
My heavy heart now mad
Hides in dark empty feel
As burdens cluster spill
My night stains dreary dwell
Beyond lost charms that tell
Love is a bloated gist
Beyond the broken list
~~~~~~~~~
My quest greets a sad mode
Blush of unease stains code
The choking knot binds pain
A hangman’s rope now drains
My deluge of sadness
Chokes a certain madness
I try my best to run
Yet my pain exults pun
My touch and feel grinds rut
Unveils unease that cuts
Abide with bloody thaw
Of anxious feelings raw
~~~~~~~~~
My madness feels extreme
Pain gathers rancid cream
Slice of misadventure
As hurts bleed odd censure
My eyes sense dark night groom
Loss of light in this room
I sit with dark shadows
As odd feelings swallow
My late trip gains a grip
As melancholy rips
Dismay whips the sad tale
Stern defiance thus prevails
~~~~~~~~~
My plight decrees sad flight
Blind afterglow put right
If only I can see
The way things now can be
My way to face this strife
To simply live this life
Through a winding journey
That mellows ecstasy
My poise of story line
A pickle in life’s brine
To find the rainbow here
In tints that arouse cheer
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
27 February 2024
Singapore
You are captivated hundred years ago
Auctioned your innocent beauty
Tasted various blood that kissed on the land
Marked the scars of exploitations
Trampled your dignity!
Barrowed the freedom declared by other
Fake declarations put our forefathers in trouble
Glared them by figurative beliefs
Praising the teach of others lives
You can’t live without balanced looking
Knowing your men’s race abused them without mercy
The wrong acts of our descendants
Earning the weak new generation
Once again you are plead
For the other lands deceiving you
All your men are slave
Still bring the curse of yesterday
You are pulling as an example
As the gate of hell of many aspects
Admitted the poverty is the hub of history
They are ignorant! We have filled of dreams!
Cannot stop their dirty spit
For the poor land but behind rich
Controlled you for being small
Wake up our brave spirit once more!
I know the brilliant minds know the weapon
For the intruders with the same us status before
They boast their powerful stuff’s war
Defying your patience to become ash
I know you are not like before
You can beat them and obtain the praise
The gnashing teeth thirst for respect
Of the strange eyes observing your work
Your men are not cowards
Waiting for the signs from HEAVEN
Give us strength and wisdom
To defend our crying tired land!
He didn't mind his father, ran away from home
Barefoot boy, dressed in rags; hair never met a comb
Never attended church or school, lived down by the river
Taken in by a proper widow, he cursed his new caregiver
Huck Finn was lawless, vulgar, and altogether coarse
Smoked like a sooty chimney, had the manners of a horse
Grew up in an age and era where ******* were all slaves
His best friend, Tom Sawyer, hid plundered booty in a cave
Yes, Huck Finn was as black as any black sheep come
But though he wasn't book-smart, Huck sure wasn't dumb
So when he met a slave named Jim on deserted Jackson Island
Something stirred in Huck's heart; he lent old Jim a hand
Huck risked his life to help Jim escape from slavery to freedom
He threw Jim's owners off the trail; he knew how to mislead 'em
This rebellious ne'er-do-well, all regarded as a black sheep
But Huck fought for Jim, for what was right -- and what he sowed, we reaped
July 08, 2019
Black Sheep Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Slausin