For the next 10 weeks I will be embarking on a new series of 10 short poems (5-10 lines). Each poem will deal with a different topic that is relevant to today’s world. I hope you enjoy.
The detention of peace
Where can doves soar
except upon request to us
who chain them?
Where can olive trees sprout
except on appeal to us
who pot and consume their seeds?
This extract from Bob Marley’s Redemption Song sums up this poem nicely: ‘‘Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery…’’
Anthem for Black Empowerment
I shouldn’t be here
In this space of surrender
where every street
and avenue seems
shut to advancement
Has the Black Man not left
that defeated place
where our wrists were bound
in shackles of racism and slavery?
Have we not scaled the convoluted
road to political and cultural power?
Still a defeated logic holds us back
not in Jim Crow and the lynching South
but in degraded projects and police captivity
But just as God’s love remains
so too does the faith that once sealed up minds
and corridors will be shattered and like the Israelites
we’ll walk at last into the promise land.
There are times when I thank God I grew up in the 2000’s. There is so much happening.
To be young now
I won’t with modesty say I’m not a spectator
In the stadium of passing, changing times.
I’ve seen risen and fallen powers, personalities,
regimes and even the White House become
as dark as Belgium’s bitter-sweet delicacy.
To be young now time warps me
back to the days of Spring ’68,
to a world under the strain
of social defiance and change.
To be young now…
Sounds as stirring as Dylan’s protest song:
‘‘The times they are a-changin’…’’
Too often we accuse the past of being responsible for our present problems instead of getting our heads down and working to solve them.
I was once told to just blame
this generation’s current issues
on generations that came before.
History, I was told, has handed
us the baton of cross-era curses,
troubles transferred from parent to offspring.
I imagine tomorrow’s inhabitants
will soon blame their tribulations on us too,
unless we exorcise our current demons,
hushing the roaring blaze of maturing woes
in the cleansing rainstorm of forgiveness;
with sociopolitical redemption