Five ...
My body instinctively moves
To the sway of the wind's rhythm
Swinging to the right, left, right...
Swaying, bending, flailing, falling
To the dance of death
Four...
Finally the sweet taste of freedom
Longingly lingers on the crevices of my mind
As I am dragged from the airy convulsion of my body
To slash the splashing surface of slurping waves
With my death partner -
Brother - tied by the neck -
Connected by the root
Staring unseeingly at at the rising sun of liberty
With the last image of bondage
Still reflecting in his milky grey eyeballs,
No longer bursting with the dark essence of life
Three ...
The wind gently lowers me
To the soft edges of salvation
As my eyes are glued to the sun
As if to erase the haughty, mocking glare
Of the white devils
My bright screen of light
With the beautifully blinding colours of the sky
Whispering, "Africa"
And producing images of life
Of my family
Of my food
Of my home
Of my life,
Before...
Two ...
My body rushes to embrace
The heavy, yet comforting hug of my sunset
A smile, unused for months, etched deep into my face
As the waves of mermaids wetly kiss
The slashes, wounds and br- br-bruises
That decorate my body
No more
No more suffocating in seas of bodies
Packed into the boat of death
I will breathe
As water fills my body with the air of freedom.
One ...
More second, to...
- J. McAwesome
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The poetry of my squishy grey matter
PoetryThis is some of the poems that I've written about the different characters of my mental life, whether it is my ancestors, or just a random persona that embodies someone that I have yet to meet. My poems tend to relate to "the disadvantaged" with a t...
