The waves pull at the lugs of the wind-smiling boat
Where jokes are thrown, and hope of home stays afloat.
But beneath the wood, in dark damp despair
The souls piled in bodies in chains gasp for air.
Captured in fields of butterfly-filled chanting grass
Where children's smiles once lit love in these paths,
Now wishing death, escape, drowning, as the waves tossed
Their past away, carrying them to the land of the lost.
Finally off the cramped hell of human faeces and decay,
On a dais where bids are called, and theyget whisked away
To serve the farm. This was freedom from seaborne pain
Just to be enslaved, and cut and hurt once again.
Their brothers off to Arabia, or further to the same fate
Had warned of this predicament, and now they're in their state
Hoping for a day when a heart is changed and the impossible
Becomes blood on this continent to unhinge their shackles.
***********
What's freedom?
The shackles have fallen off the scars
That held back my breath.
Opportunity smiles the seduction of the 14th of February
And I say yes, reach out, looking to a future, looking
Beyond to joy, beyond death.
The eagle soars to survey and seek its prey, as I ride
Peacefully building a future where my kids will be eagles
To pray the prayers that freed my heart, to dream the dream
That Washington, Lincoln and Martin Luther King dream, and
Put the whip back into its sheath.
***********
But my brothers are still stuck.
I watch as I soar how the nest of worms appeals to them.
The chain is gone.
They seek a new master to shelter them from the
Predators of the world;
They call to this master to take their cross, and bear
It, and give them some cotton to feed their fears.
Melanin comes to the table.
He builds a bull of gold, and they bow.
"Oh Melanin, you brought us out of the slavery in Egypt
Out of the Slavery in Libya, Saudi Arabia, and Kuwait
Out of the bowels of the slave ships on the Atlantic,
You brought us out of slavery,
Now enslave us to your will.
Make us wholly thine. Where you command we will go"
So he did.
And beautifully decorated by their bull,
Now, their lives matter.
(c) nyonglema
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waghni 
That is such an enchanting set of poems, on a less than enchanting subject, in the first part. You have taken us from the past to the present. From slavery to worshipping the almighty dollar rather than God. Sadly that is not confined to skin colour. What future do you see and want?
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Thanks for stopping by Len.
It’s subtle but it’s worship of “Melanin”, the pigment of darker skins. When one defines oneself more by skin color, we’re in for trouble. Blacks have become slaves to their skins. Until you reach the point where you realize that YOUR choices determine who you are, you can’t take responsibility for your outcomes. Then it’s easy to blame others, the stars or even your skin color for those outcomes.
I’m worried that this is the beginning of the end for logical thinking in the USA. It’s all about “I’m this”, “My Truth”, and if you have over 150 million truths, then there’s no truth. You enter the territory of godlessness, and that results in anarchy.
The unfortunate part of this madness going on now, is that it is bringing to the fore black racism against the whites, which has always been real but ignored. I’m worried that when I travel again, I be judged even more by the color of my skin rather then who I am. I’m worried that as more races need to kneel to the BLM movement (which celebrates black supremacy), white supremacists could be emboldened to retaliate, and innocent lives will be taken in this madness. I worry that movements like BLM whose funding is shady can enroll so many blacks in Burning, Looting and Murdering those same people whose lives they claim matter.
I want peace. I want nobody to kneel to anybody. I want blacks to stop glorifying their criminals, no matter what happens to them, but actually appreciate those blacks who change the narrative.
I want love and forgiveness to reign, if not even after 1000 years, slavery will still be an excuse. Imagine the British still complaining about being colonized by the Norman French?
I want all black Americans to live the American dream, because they have the best lives of any blacks from Africa in the world, and maybe by seizing the opportunity just in front of them, the message of “You’re more than your skin” will ring true. Then African will stop meaning “black”. Then we’ll address and solve the problems we can.
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I went for worshipping the dollar because of ‘the bull of gold’. But now it all makes perfect sense.
I have reblogged this on my site. https://lensdiary.blog/2020/06/20/blogging-family/
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Thanks Len. Your kind words and support are greatly appreciated.
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