Still Wasn’t Enough

A personification poem by Monica Terry

still-wasnt-enough

I remember being awakened on a warm Summer’s Eve to soft strokes at the foot of my Mountain Kilimanjaro and whispers at the banks of my Niger, Nile  and Zambezi Rivers.

The voices and the movements were unfamiliar to me.  This was another people.  Something different about the way they touched me and spoke about me.  I heard them speaking about how they would  pry out of me my precious minerals and jewels.

Who were these?  They did not belong to me.  They were not the ones that had taken care of me for centuries nor had an understanding of what I gave back to them in return.

As time went on, their softness turned to harshness as they touched  me; it went from caressing to groping at my mountains for my precious minerals, platinum, uranium and iron.  They bore so deep, ripping from me the gold and ravaging at my rich soil in search of my rich black oil.  Often I would smell the alcohol on their breath.

I wanted to yell STOP! But instead I tried to violently react with a sudden volcanic eruption that sent the newcomers scattering for safe ground.  But after the ash settled, they still came back.  It still wasn’t enough to make them leave.

I tried to deprive them various times of water with my occasional droughts, for I knew those that took care of me would know what to do. They could survive and adapt unlike the newcomers.  But it still wasn’t enough to make them leave.  Greed will make one madly blind.

They produced mining industries and forcibly took my beautiful diamonds, selling them to the highest bidders and forcing those that took care of me to grope and hack away in filthy conditions at gun point until they dropped dead.  100 million carats, and still…it wasn’t enough for them to leave.

Eventually the ones that took care of me began to disappear.  Many times, I saw them carted off in ships.  The times I dared to watch their fate, I saw them looking at me as if for the last time.  I mourned with them, for now my fate awaited me to be plundered all alone by the rapists with grubby hands.

After such disparity in socio-economic status, the ones that were left began to be indifferent to me.  They had been hardened and turned cold by the criminality of my stolen wealth.  My borders no longer provided them with what they needed…..protection.  They have tried in the past to revive my damaged areas, but the newcomers killed them.

The newcomers even divided me up into pieces and shared me with others that lust for my riches.  Once my rivers flowed freely from north to south and my mountains and valleys could be inhabited with no care or disputes.  There was even blood shed on my soil that I sorrowfully soaked up.  And it still was not enough to make it stop.

But now a new day has come.  I see the seeds of the ones that were kidnapped and taken away from me and they are strong.  They are fiercely growing into seedlings that sprout bigger into hardened trees with resilient bark.  They are saying NO MORE to my rape and my exploitation!  They are saying ENOUGH!

They are being heard all over the world, crying out for me, for them, for the wrongs that have been done to be addressed.  I see hope of my people returning to take care of me as in centuries past, and I will once again be a shelter for them.

I see that I need not be ashamed for being forced upon and defiled, for I was a victim of unthinkable crimes against me and my caretakers.  And finally, I am not alone in saying “ENOUGH”!

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Recycled Capitalism

Blood soaked economic system, Private ownership

Solely for profits, Echoes ring from cracks of the whip

Old face Britain & Amsterdam, New face honors the Duke

New York’s stench from lies, Can’t mask the truth

Made legal to own African people, forced to build The Wall

Pillar of oppression, that Eagle, Babylon must fall

18th century slave code, Now born with bar code,

Auction block to auction market, 11 Wall Street Manhatten tortured souls sold

Stocks, bonds, mutual funds, Are we just derivatives

Of greed laden trades and transactions, Deliberate and annihilative

Auctioneer, broker, big board, Lehmen’s cotton,

Aetna’s insured slaves, Same players, different names & days, fleshly crops gone rotten

Sold to the highest bidder, Merrill and Goldman supply the collateral

Capitalism with a botched facelift, devil in the mathematicals

What goes up must descend, was never worthy to wear the crown,

be found blameless in these days,

Repent, seek truth, change wicked ways, be heavenbound

For the end will not delay

 

The Performance

Trained

Blistered

Feet

Engage

Shellacked

Layered

Wood

Creating

Beheld

Rhythmic

Masterpiece

One

Fleeting

Moment

photo credit:  Chicaco Artists Resource

Recycled Capitalism

Blood soaked economic system, Private ownership

Solely for profits, Echoes ring from cracks of the whip

Old face Britain & Amsterdam, New face honors the Duke

New York’s stench from lies, Can’t mask the truth

Made legal to own African people, forced to build The Wall

Pillar of oppression, that Eagle, Babylon must fall

18th century slave code, Now born with bar code,

Auction block to auction market, 11 Wall Street Manhatten tortured souls sold

Stocks, bonds, mutual funds, Are we just derivatives

Of greed laden trades and transactions, Deliberate and annihilative

Auctioneer, broker, big board, Lehmen’s cotton,

Aetna’s insured slaves, Same players, different names & days, fleshly crops gone rotten

Sold to the highest bidder, Merrill and Goldman supply the collateral

Capitalism with a botched facelift, devil in the mathematicals

What goes up must descend, was never worthy to wear the crown,

be found blameless in these days,

Repent, seek truth, change wicked ways, be heavenbound

For the end will not delay

 

What’s My Motivation?

20170303_1434231

Woke up this morning, feeling relieved to see another day, but mind resisting the waves of tasks that come in to invade and away,  then suddenly comes that recurring flood that I call…..Sunday.

Body tired cause once again thought I could cheat my circadian rhythm, into thinking I could only sleep five hours, battle of the mind, brain schism, right versus left brain then back to realism.

Just the adversary trying to get me to doubt my ability that the Almighty Father has instilled in me to aid in the execution of each and every task with precision and agility.

“So what’s my motivation” I thought to myself.

Could it be that my children need me to get out of this warm & cozy bed?  Not ready yet, doubts swirling, body aches, brain dead; in creeps a still voice whispering, “Fear not, don’t dread!”

So I choose to listen to it instead

Maybe it’s my morning prayers that beg to be recited, that give me wisdom to conquer spiritual battles, and if failed could leave me over-excited and yes, ……even indicted

Then I put into the forefront of my mind that those that came to be at some time or were born blind, would gladly wake up eager to not only read,  but be extremely inclined To engulf the beauty around them that we so often think…….. “never mind”

What’s my motivation?

Do I get up today for that 9 to 5 that’s mos def not in the 5 year plan to keep us alive, not to mention help our children to propel forward and thrive

Then, yet again, that still voice said, “Rise and see what marvelous things await you today

Let Me worry about the tasks, the problems and your pay.  Each time you awake, see it as a present or even a bouquet.

From Me my child

It’s up to us to figure out how to use that present in order to be of service to Him

and a blessing to others just like the bouquet of flowers, petals and stem

He is my perpetual motivation, for without Him, I surely would cease to exist

The still voice has and always will be my Creator urging me to persist

Thank you Heavenly Father for your mercy, this gift, and the bouquet

and all of the many blessings from the past and future ones you are sending my way

Do You Love Me?

Starting something new in 2017!  A short poem from yours truly illustrating how in my imagination the Father may define LOVE as it pertains to His relationship with us. Do you love me enough toR…

Source: Do You #Love Me?”

“Violence” Poem by Gabby Y

A poem by a very talented friend of mine, Gabby Y.  Pray to see more of her beautiful work soon!

violence

Bloodshed, in reality and on that square we call TV
Nothing but immoral wickedness is all we see
Insanity filling into the brains of youth
Everyone on the same path, so never knowing the truth
ink-303244_1280The world frying it into our minds
Leaving a permanent scare for generations to find
Continuing on what The Man’s goal was
To keep our people against one another
Because of The Man who would kill his own mother
Violence is a sin against the Father
One must stand up and follow the path of his forefathersink-303244_1280
Not the path of this devil
Who enjoys killing, hurting and scheming, yeah that’s his revel
So the people of Judah, wake up NOW!
Stop killing and betraying and take one big bow
Before the Father and pray for forgiveness
That we may all repent from our sins and be sinless
The Father has no intentions of allowing us to inherit
The Land of Milk and Honey with and evil state of mind
We must get rid of that Babalioness, and let’s combine
ink-303244_1280Our knowledge, talents and numbers
So that we may do the Father’s will and this time stay in our Mother!