Short Slaver Poems

some say know
won't let go
this they must know
not like before
everyone  have a clover
SLAVER IS OVER...

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some don't know
slaver wasn't show
in the rain
whip in pain
some time in chain
it wasn't fame
SLAVER WASN'T GAME...

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some say back than
well it all began
from those slaver master
those baster
had the horn sound around
and my people
BOUND IN CHAINS...

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my mind don't fade
those was slaver  days
up  in the sun
mabe time run
from a sonforgun
it was bad newes
it was  the
COTTON FEILD BLUES...

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comes from being sold
for gold
by there own race
and corlor of face
whip dip
and  forces on a ship
or be wack thats a fact
ROOTS OF SLAVER OF 
BLACK...

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there some who too
don't won't give up
theyer still a press us
we are there dust
they still foot the bill
of a cotton mill
and refuss to give
SLAVER LIVES...

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back in the day 
you had to pay
no time for play
work  in the sun
it wasn't any fun
you have to do
what they tell you too
thoses baster
THE
SLAVE MASTER...

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they worked all day
very little pay
thinking my eyes blinking
rain with pain
this  slaver thing
all it would bring
would them like a clown
worked 
SUN UP SUN DOWN...

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Tho its a differ time
there's still bad mine
don't won't change
its insane
still eyes rain
to see this wrong pain
how some refuse   giveS
this thing call love
SLAVER  LIVES...

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kept this in mine
at one time
of the slave trade
it was just to bath
not slaver is about to fade
and being left behind
now you can be stren
got now to burn
NOT A CRIME TO LEARM...

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some say it was over
it still flows like a clover
some still hate
to them there 's do debate
its in deep
its inside there heart and feet
thats world wide 
these are not lies
SLAVER NEVER DIED...

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on 
the palm 
turmoil fate 
of the next year
as like burning coal
no peace in working hand
backbone is suffering clasps
waiting for the new tragic time
sipping the slaver of dearth panic

©Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
10/08/2022...

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in the night my hair is a missing 
pugged out with no hair on my fear (fare) pillow 
who comes in the night 
is it you, you bad bad fellow  
to hit my pride, and show me weak~
or sit (set) me up with your lies
to know my medical heal  (heath)
to change my soul (life) and make me dead~ 




aka:lyricvixen in slaver...

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Enthralled by this alluring sight,
Locals slaver from my sultry delight

Glossy laurels of evergreen,
Living embodiment of a queen

In the tropics I'm mostly adored,
Even dream up of tales and lore

Craves the taste of my luscious like
Tickles lips, this succulent ripe

Throughout the years, three decades old
Still covered with peels of gold....

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Haunting dreams awake me;
I must analyze them;
Awake, up and penning;
Muse erupts through my hand.
I’m writing so swiftly;
I misspell; skip letters;

To ignore, betrays
And she will not hush.
“It’s time that we slept!”
I say, she replies back, 
“No! Not now; just write!”

My bloodshot eyes
Following ink;
Skip a letter; 
No going back.

Her lava
Spews on page
After page.

Brutal 
Slaver;

Muse.
...

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You haunt my soul
and left a hole
to foster death
within my chest.

Why came I to love you so?
you became my obsession
and my heart's suppression.
Ne'er again love's seeds I'll sow

for you became a rotten crow tree within my heart
whose unremovable rotted roots became my cark.

A corpse herein lies
who buries your lies
with which was caved in

by the weight of your sin.
His failed attempts to hate
the slaver causing craze
of his mind, the poor slave....

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