You come to me in my dreams
A foggy night a distant memory
I will never see you in life
But I’ll share your face in time
Family roots tender torn apart
Broken due to slavers cold heart
What was meant for evil we pray
Leads to blessings victory days
First black president of USA
And black First Lady descendant of slaves
Family history tree with roots so old
Despite being beaten separated sold
Victory is your blessed rainbow
First female president make it so
Big brother watch its a British innovation.' Its seems
Almost Orwell inspired? to support the independance
Of nations.!! Silkie Carlow heads it up.' Why dont youhave
A look in 2024? don't be just like a headless chook.!
When the sky was falling, 2020 like..' The answer was
Simple.! just go out on strike.' Don't trust the slavers who
Would advise? they're savers.? Look around and decide!
Its up to yourself' its the only way we'll get round to healthy
World behaviour that way.!
The rig rolled through Laredo
On the road to San Antone,
Its eighteen wheels of commerce
Headed north from parts unknown.
The shipping costs all paid to
Their coyote chaperones.
The plan was clear in concept,
But the method imprecise.
If not the dehydration,
Suffocation would suffice;
The Black Hole of Calcutta
Brought to Texas for a price.
This third verse offers balance,
But provides no peace of mind,
To see these modern slavers
Treating people worse than swine.
And how cheaply they regard them
Once they've crossed the borderline.
I was social
Surrounded by people
Many local
the crowd was equal
A place where loyalty lies
And boy does it lie
All talk til the cry
Their gone no goodbye
Favours for favours
Owners and slavers
No one to save us
Takers and traitors
I thought I had close ones
The mean the most ones
Those well known ones
Suddenly no ones
I cared
And I got hurt
And I swear
Care is hurt
Avoid
Assumptions
Destroyed
Only done once
Six decades after the slavers were gone
Came along the dragon
With fire to melt our mineral ore, trees to chop
And heat for a sweatshop
Politicians shake hands with eyes closed, as few hands get oiled
So they build the castles, as the majority poor toil
Nothing to show in the 21st century
A homeland is no longer a sanctuary
There is a death toll at shores of the Mediterranean sea
If we are not filling up forms for green visa lottery
Keepsakes
by Michael R. Burch
"... put out my hand and touched the face ..."
I caress them—trapped in yellowing cellophane—
and I see how young they were, and how unwise;
and I remember their first flight—an old prop plane,
their blissful arc through alien blue skies ...
And I touch them here through leaves which—tattered, frayed—
are also wings, but wings that never flew:
like insects’ wings—pinned, held. Here, time delayed,
their features never changed, remaining two ...
And Grief, which lurked unseen beyond the lens
or in shadows where It crept on feral claws
as It scratched Its way into their hearts, depends
on sorrows such as theirs, and works Its jaws ...
and slavers for Its meat—those young, unwise,
who naively dare to dream, yet fail to see
how, lumbering sunward, Hope, ungainly, flies,
clutching to Her ruffled breast what must not be.
Keywords/Tags: youth, young love, first love, dating, courtship, engagement, marriage, honeymoon, album, picture album, memory, memories, mementos, keepsakes, photo, photos, photograph, photographs, time, grief, loss
Album
by Michael R. Burch
I caress them—trapped in brittle cellophane—
and I see how young they were, and how unwise;
and I remember their first flight—an old prop plane,
their blissful arc through alien blue skies ...
And I touch them here through leaves which—tattered, frayed—
are also wings, but wings that never flew:
like insects’ wings—pinned, held. Here, time delayed,
their features never changed, remaining two ...
And Grief, which lurked unseen beyond the lens
or in shadows where It crept on feral claws
as It scratched Its way into their hearts, depends
on sorrows such as theirs, and works Its jaws ...
and slavers for Its meat—those young, unwise,
who naively dare to dream, yet fail to see
how, lumbering sunward, Hope, ungainly, flies,
clutching to Her ruffled breast what must not be.
Keywords/Tags: youth, young love, first love, dating, courtship, engagement, marriage, honeymoon, album, picture album, memory, memories, mementos, keepsakes, photo, photos, photograph, photographs, time, grief, loss, travel, trip, flight, flying, plane, airplane
Steel resolution, made a thousand times
To reach across black rift between closed hearts
Carefully constructed, a thousand lines
Rose incantation, enchanted restart
Dim hourglass of the blind excuse dancer
Clings desperately to its final grains
Dark wolf’s mouth slavers, he smells your cancer
Speak now, or forever we keep these pains
Knock on your door, thunderous echoes fade
Younger guilt and fear restrain me no more
Resolve not weakened, steady hand not stayed
Blade drains poison, flowing blood you ignore
One thing stands clear at your onrushing end:
It takes just one to break, but two to mend.
4/26/16
©
WHERE AM I?
Life,
You welcome all with a smile,
But your wall you cast about us
Like a net for the fingerlings,
Wroughted to tame
Slavers for your farmland.
I had a dream in my sleep,
In that dream in my sleep
I walked through your clouded maze
Searching for my gone-by years
In that dream in my sleep
You came to me a mammoth cistern
Eating all dreams in that sleep,
And there you eat me too,
In that dream in my sleep.
It was but a scary nightmare,
In that dream in my sleep,
And when dawn came,
In my fumbling rouse,
That I perceived I was never there
Where I was before that sleep
That begets that dream,
And I to life turned and asked,
Where am I? Now that the sleep
That beget that dream, is all but gone?
Finding in my life what matters
Finding in my life what matters
Is to see you and love you
Without which my earth shatters
I hold you and trust you
Like a butterfly that rests on my shoulders
I need you and want you
What happens in between all flatters?
I listen to you and hold true
Every little word your mouth utters
I think of you and worry too
Like watching a dog with a bone he slavers
I envy you and I dote over you
I always feel complete when time scatters
Just finding in my life what matters
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
Rich and Poor
What can we say to introduce the rich names,
they just care about their own fames.
But what about the poor ones,
who can't think of having fun.
When the rich are being entertained in the biggest of land,
they can't enjoy the scent of simple sand.
They take pleasure in the ocean,
when their mind doesn't have the simple definition of motion.
The poor learn to labour and to wait,
but to learn for a rich is only inside the school's gate.
To study rich have no pain,
after study poor have no gain.
The poor will live as slavers,
better than asking the rich any favors.
Rich have brothers, sisters husbands or wives,
but poor beg for their lives.
But what after this long debate,
the result is only what was already said,
Rich goes on richer,
Poor goes on poorer.
That life circle cannot be made feeble,
because it's made by us flawed people.
Rich and Poor
What can we say to introduce the rich names,
they just care about their own fames.
But what about the poor ones,
who can't think of having fun.
When the rich are being entertained in the biggest of land,
they can't enjoy the scent of simple sand.
They take pleasure in the ocean,
when their mind doesn't have the simple definition of motion.
The poor learn to labour and to wait,
but to learn for a rich is only inside the school's gate.
To study rich have no pain,
after study poor have no gain.
The poor will live as slavers,
better than asking the rich any favors.
Rich have brothers, sisters husbands or wives,
but poor beg for their lives.
But what after this long debate,
the result is only what was already said,
Rich goes on richer,
Poor goes on poorer.
That life circle cannot be made feeble,
because it's made by us flawed people.
hostile are the huts
rolled are heads over heads
niger-maidens are encycled
niger-maidens are weeping
raising their piercing voices
amid the torturing rites
of the years of rotten memories -
the slavers are here
with thousands of gifts
his face turns down-wards
he must leave the clan -
leaving the friends
leaving the forest
leaving the known paths
forever
the battered limbs
the battered arms
the battered brains -
as memory can't tell
what the years hid like the graves
& niger sighs along
these paths of the lost souls
I see their faces on billboards & posters
with democrat's smiles they flatter their figures
they do not paint their mastiff & slavers
The constellations of their idle ideals is missing in their pictures.
I sank back in my sofa, watching my television
pondering on the theme and thrust and tones
of these spies...their lies, vacious postulations
crass and cynical arrogance hidden in their bones.
My heart ran through the lore and lexicons
of these politicians who hide their gloom during campaigns
they win the rugged race through fraud fraught elections
....to become rulers of a people in chains and pains.
Their practice of internal colonialism is a a curse
that has roused the rebels in the oil-rich creek of Niger Delta.
Their major mission and vision is to fill their purse
with the spoils of war...between our welfare and Nigerian ninjas
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