Spirit of a Slave

Spirit of a Slave

A Poem by Rufus "Mr Blaque" Lacy, Jr

I hear a rooster singing its morning chime

Stretching my arms from a pass slumber

Another day of waking to a caged idea

Not looking forward to this croft

But I must survive

Allowing my seedlings to prosper

 

Torturing my ligaments bear

To improve a stranger’s future

Against this dirty acreage

With trees swaying with a wind

Looking into the eyes of a fellow captive

Seeing the lost dreariness

 

I cry

But my tears will not escape my eyes

I will not share my hurt

As I hear a thunderous voice

Screaming directions of malicious phrases

Making my skin vomit fear

 

Just one more day of this hell on earth

But this is my life bearing tattered clothing

And dried up blood from forced bruises

They know my heritage is strong

Fore I am lasting this personal evil

 

2am I woke up

This is just a dream

But it felt so authentic

How many lives have I lived

My ancestors are singing

Compelling me to taste the anguish

 

Creating lively imagery

Of an ignored history

Imprinting my memories with displayed hatred

Stabbing my mortality

With the memoirs of a covered past

Educating me of my lineage

© 2012 Rufus "Mr Blaque" Lacy, Jr


Author's Note

Rufus "Mr Blaque" Lacy, Jr
The back story to this poem is, I'm a descended of a share cropper and I had dream that I had to express it in words.

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Featured Review

[send message][befriend] Subscribe
~
Sometimes I wonder if our dreams are a way of our ancestors connecting with us and sharing their story. They can feel so real, seem so vivid, as though you are walking with them, experiencing what they lived. I have had these sorts of dreams too. They always leave me feeling connected. Well expressed, poet.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Rufus "Mr Blaque" Lacy, Jr

11 Years Ago

Our dreams tell us everything, all we have to do is listen.



Reviews

such a powerful, emotional read, well expressed


Posted 11 Years Ago


Rufus "Mr Blaque" Lacy, Jr

11 Years Ago

Thank you
I agree... there should naturally be hatred.. but sounded as if there wasnt.. what a sad sad state of affairs it was then.. thank God things are better now

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Rufus "Mr Blaque" Lacy, Jr

11 Years Ago

I know, my heritage experienced it, thank you so much.
Bewitching Sensations

11 Years Ago

It was so unfair..x
[send message][befriend] Subscribe
~
Sometimes I wonder if our dreams are a way of our ancestors connecting with us and sharing their story. They can feel so real, seem so vivid, as though you are walking with them, experiencing what they lived. I have had these sorts of dreams too. They always leave me feeling connected. Well expressed, poet.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Rufus "Mr Blaque" Lacy, Jr

11 Years Ago

Our dreams tell us everything, all we have to do is listen.
Wow, so powerful yet I did not feel any hatred there as there might rightfully be. It is for us all to remember the past, so that it might never be repeated I think.

There is one small spelling error I see, The next to last stanza, last line 'aguish' should be 'anguish'

Very well done sir, thanks for sharing.

Posted 11 Years Ago


0 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This comment has been deleted by the poster.
Rufus "Mr Blaque" Lacy, Jr

11 Years Ago

Thank you, I corrected that before I copied it over, computers we like to hate them. I glad you saw .. read more

2
next Next Page
last Last Page
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

650 Views
14 Reviews
Rating
Added on September 26, 2012
Last Updated on September 27, 2012
Tags: Dreams, Honesty, Pain, Poetry, Powerful, Uplifting

Author

Rufus "Mr Blaque" Lacy, Jr
Rufus "Mr Blaque" Lacy, Jr

Elk Grove Village, IL



About
My name is Rufus Lacy. I am an intercity child, born and raised on Chicago Westside (Garfield Park), as a youth I spend the summers in Money, Mississippi working on my grandparent’s farm and pla.. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..