Cane Gang - Olive Senior

 

Torn from the vine from another world 

to tame the wildness of the juice, assigned 

with bill and hoe to field or factory, chained 

by the voracious hunger of the cane 

the world’s rapacious appetite for sweetness 

How place names of my servitude mock me: 

Eden, Golden Vale, Friendship, Green Valley, 

Hermitage, Lethe, Retreat, Retirement, Content, 

Paradise, Phoenix, Hope, Prospect, Providence 

Each with the Great House squatting 

on the highest eminence 

the Sugar Works overlooking 

my master’s eye unyielding 

the overseer unblinking 

not seeing the black specks 

floating across 

their finely-crafted 

landscape 

At shell blow assembled the broken-down

bodies, the job-lots scrambled into gangs

like beads on a string O not pearls no just  

unmatched pairings the random bindings 

like cane trash no not like the cane pieces

laid out geometric and given names

and burning. 

http://www.sentinelpoetry.org.uk/0106/olive_senior.htm 

Death of a Comrade - Martin Carter

Death must not find us thinking that we die

too soon, too soon

our banner draped for you

I would prefer

the banner in the wind

Not bound so tightly

in a scarlet fold

not sodden, sodden

with your people's tears

but flashing on the pole

we bear aloft

down and beyond this dark, dark lane of rags.

Now, from the mourning vanguard moving on

dear Comrade, I salute you and I say

Death will not find us thinking that we die.

-Martin Carter

http://silvertorch.com/c-poetry.html 

A Crossover Cry - The New Year 2025

Red over, red over, a desperate plea 

I yearn to transcend, but barriers decree 

"I want to pass," I cry, "I cannot stay!" 

Caught in the currents of the old regime's sway.

On the cusp of renewal, the waves crash and roar, 

The old order recedes, but lingers ashore. 

A breach in the dam, a vandal unseen, 

Attempts to derail, to steal what might have been.

"I want to pass," I plead, but the voice says, "No!"

"I am passing," I insist, with resolve aglow. 

What foe dares obstruct this destined ascent? 

Ten toes planted firm, on my future intent.

They creep and they steal, they lie and they bind,

A constant resistance, a torment of mind. 

But the trumpet of dawn, a clarion call rings, 

Arise, all ye souls, let your spirits take wings!

Like acrid smoke rising, a new force ascends, 

Heavy and hefty, where this smoke descends,

A surefire ignition, a light that will guide, 

As the swift wings of time, a new year will ride.

Dread shall consume those who fear the unknown, 

A heavy emptiness, a soul overthrown. 

Let this be your last sigh, your final lament, 

Embrace the new dawn, the year's grand ascent.

May the delights of 2025 unfold, 

The mysteries of your maker, a story untold. 

Hear the waves crash, against the rocky shore, 

But your soul is anchored, forevermore.

No more swept away, like leaves in the breeze, 

No more a whirlpool, lost in endless seas. 

This year, we ascend, we pass, we break free, 

By the grace of the architect, you and I shall be.

- cocoaTea.poetry

Frightened yet fruitfully flowing forward

Fruitfully forward

Forward, fruitfully

No fruit flies, freezer burn and fallout

No philanderers, frostbite and fleas

just...

Fruitfully forward and hopefully,

Forward...fruitfully

- cocoaTea.poetry