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Best Poems Written by Millard Lowe

Below are the all-time best Millard Lowe poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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On the Waves of Lost Memories

ON THE WAVES OF LOST MEMORIES…

These salted memories tell stories
The oceans and seas gave birth to.

Over the tempestuous waters
Echoes from the bellies of slave ships
Ride the tides of history

Spreading ripples over the shores
Of time proclaiming forgiveness
For lost souls.

We sashay along bleached beaches 
Where white sands mask the shed blood;
And splashing waves drown out
The ghost echoes of rattling chains:

We no longer remember
Our beginnings here.

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Haiku Triad

Monitoring self,
nature made her decisions:
disaster rained down…

The water rose—
Life sank beneath the level;
hope floated above…

Like Noah, we wait…
flooding water standing still—
Vultures roost on wires.

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I Am the River

I Am The River…
I am the river;
poured out
of God’s  
celestial pitcher:
a full river;
swollen with His tears.

I am the river;
my banks hold
the flow
of a nation:
denied, crucified, died,
resurrected and sanctified.

I am the river;
my tributaries flow
wide and deep—
outward, inward, upward,
downward and back
to the source.

I am the river;
The flowing essence
Of a mother’s womb—come 
Wade in my history
And let the wetness of ourstory
bathe away all your delusions.

I am the river;
the river 
of your birth:
come and swim in me.

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Butterflies Are Free

Butterflies Are Free…
(For Karma Nurisha Wa Kupenda)

I touched a butterfly;
It flew away
Free:

Soaring
Into the gentle breeze.

Through the prism of my tears,
Rainbows caressed the skies:

I miss you
And cherish
The cocooned years.

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A Change Is Going To Come

Like the dawning sun
Our liberty is coming soon
The light of the full moon
Reflecting the journey

In circadian rhythm
The seasons come and go
As the laws of nature
Give each a time to be free

Like the seasons
We are children of the sun
And the laws of nature
Supersede the laws of man

As with the seasons
A change is going to come
And the winter of inequality
Will fade into the spring of liberty

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Of Sage Leaves and Sweet Flowers

OF SAGE LEAVES AND SWEET FLOWERS…

While flowers may be deemed
The sweetness of nature and life,
It is the leaves of her trees that are
The essences of life, death, and rising:-

It is the leaves of the tree 
That feeds and nourishes her;
That ensures her branches’ bearings;
Photosynthesizing her peace and love:-

While living flowers are plucked,
Vase-like buried, and housed until death,
They are later thrown away—forgotten.

But fallen leaves reflect resurrection:-

Yes, in nature, trees shed their shading blades
And for a while, stoically stand in nakedness;
Piercing skyward to the coming resurrection
Of their green and rainbow colored leaves.

Thus, I’d rather be a leaf than a flower;
All trees bear leaves; but all don’t flower.
Leaves—nature’s resurrection symbols;
Her saged bristlecone pine allegories:-

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Scene From a Bike Ride

Like a royal parade,
they waddled across
the well traveled thoroughfare
teeming with autos crawling to a stop;
otherwise road rage reduced to admiration.

The regal drake held his head high—his eyes
piercing straight ahead—oblivious to the traffic.
The obeisance of his trailing brace
reflected a solemn reverence to their chief.

A mother hen shot an evil eye to a baby Donald
who quickly got back in step before exiting onto 
the dew laden emerald grass—Glistering.
 
With the aura of a spa for creatures
bearing wings or fins or tails, as well as feet,
the pond awaited them—one by one
quacking with pleasure as they entered.

As we mounted our bikes
to continue our ride, auto horns
began to honk and obscene words
abated the serene ambiance.

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I Am That I Am---Without End

I Am That I Am…Without End…

Listen, my heart is a soul drum
Beating the spiritual rhythms 
Of the sojourning struggle of life—
Pumping pulsating blood inking
The notes of our story—flowing 
From the past to the present—banked
In the here and now—waiting to cascade
Into the liberated future;
Yes, like an aged tree trunk, I am rooted
Here—anchored in the fertile soils—
Here, engaged in the struggles of freeing life.
Oh, the scars I bear are many; each being
A keloid memory of where I have been—each 
A smooth raised and shadowed spiritual hope 
Of where I am going when finished inking here.
Today, I now know that I am a child
Of a once lost race that is now found
And realized; a race destined to be forever free.
Oh, I know that I am a child of the rivers
Of blood—rivers fearlessly flowing free;
You see, I am as the night—pushing aside
The day—claiming my time now to be here, free.
Yesterday is gone and tomorrow may not be;
Thus, today must be the joyous freedom advent.
Therefore, today I claim myself eternally free;
I am as in the beginning: wind, water, fire—
The light! I am all: I am the Word without end!

Details | Millard Lowe Poem

Of Silent Screaming Pregnancies

OF SILENT SCREAMING PREGNANCIES…

Creative silence 
Unlike the silence
Of death
Is life giving:-

In creative silence
The heart beats;
Blood flows;
Breathing abounds.

In the silence of mind
Sage words scream out
Divine wisdom and guidance
Quietly flowing 
Form her hued womb
As birthing water breaks—

Breaking waters
Flowing poetic births
Whose screams 
Are quietly heard
When penned and read—

Creative silence
Unlike the silence
Of death
Is life giving:-

As you quietly
Sit there,
May your pregnant
Poetic mind
Continue in silence
To birth
Screaming echoes
Of peace, love,
	And awareness
	In their allegorical
	Messages
	Of life—

 	Creative silence
	Unlike the silence
	Of death
	Is life giving:-

	While I sit here
	Quietly dying
	My pregnant mind
	Silently screams—
	Echoing clanging births:-

	Creative silence
	Unlike the silence
	Of death
	Is life giving:-

	The voice 
	May be silenced
	Through crucifixion,
	Shootings and kneeing
	Lynching;
	Yet her inked
	Clanging echoes
	Will quietly 
	Ring out loud.

	Creative silence
	Unlike the silence
	Of death
	Is life giving:-


	May the thighs
	Of your 
	Soul and spirit
	Forever 
	Quietly listen—
	Opening wide
	To silently flowing  
	Screaming 
	Impregnation:-

	Creative silence
	Unlike the silence
	Of death
	Is life giving:-

Details | Millard Lowe Poem

When Justice Took a Holiday

WHEN JUSTICE TOOK A HOLIDAY

Justice took a holiday today;
Peace fought back the tears.
The mourners came to knell and pray:
Guilt having choked the apathy of the years.

No eulogy can change the present or the past;
No commentary can ease the lingering pain.
What a mockery is made of “free at last”;
Only God has escaped the pointing blame.

Tomorrow will bring new tales to be told.
There’ll be no victory upon this cloudy scene;
Only memories of shades of gray of days of old:
Once again, humanity blinded to what was seen. 

Yes, the more things change, the more they stay the same;
God forbid, we’re heirs to lives immune to festering shame.
So keep your eyes watching God while waiting for freedom to come;
The pursuit of happiness, life, liberty and justice, is still only for some.  

But let us not whine and wallow in debilitating despair;
Let us not be like those who say they just don’t care;
With our audacious faith, there’s nothing we can’t bear.

So let us keep on keeping on with the last sweet breath that is left;
Let our cry be: “America! Give us liberty! We have given you our death!”