THE TIME CAPSULE. Norman Smith D.
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Название: THE TIME CAPSULE
Автор: Norman Smith D.
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Зарубежные стихи
isbn: 9781646540211
isbn:
The heart that has never been broken
Is a heart, neither of stone nor of steel;
It is just a heart, which gets an ample share of love.
Africa
Africa, the cradle of civilization!
From its bowels flow the great Niles.
Four thousand one hundred and sixty miles,
Three tributaries combine.
The Blue Nile, the Atbara, and the White Nile.
The father of Africa’s rivers,
The vein, through which flows the life
Of several African countries. The Nile!
Africa’s pride, spewing its contents
Through its mouth into the Mediterranean.
The valley of kings, along the banks of the Nile,
Noble, Nubian-bred, brave sons.
Africa, exhibiting the largest waterfall in the world.
The great Victoria Falls.
With fame entrusted, not self-imposed
But by visitors proclaiming it to be.
The most beautiful place on earth!
South Africa’s Victoria Falls.
Africa: Land of the mighty Mount Kilimanjaro,
With its three volcanoes, wearing its white snowcap.
Blending with the smoke expelled
From its three volcanoes back grounded
By cloudless blue sky, in infinity portrays
Africa, the land of the Sahara untamed,
But not uninhabited nor abandoned.
Plantation Seduction
For the pleasure she seeks
And the possible death he may reap
When upon her mare
Across the field she cantered
Searching for an ebony man
To quench her lustful pleasure
For life or death, the higher the stakes
The more daring a risk she takes.
For when in the fields they lay
On beds fashioned with
Cotton, hay, or dried banana leaves.
If conceived while mere pleasure she seeks,
No stripes upon his back
Can ease the disgrace from the master’s head.
And so a rope she plotted for the neck.
To do or to die, to dangle from a tree
Until they are dead.
Dare to say no to the master’s wife
Dare to attempt to preserve his life.
To say no would mean
Inviting screams of attempting to take.
And off to that wretched hanging tree
To be hanged anyway, and if she conceived
While her sinful pleasure she pursued,
Without a doubt the master’s wrath
Someone will reap.
Infant, mother, or ebony man the slave,
A grave awaiting someone, if not the lot.
Blood, Sweat, and Tears
We were cursed by the creator our father
That by our sweat we shall earn our daily bread
We wept, toiling through our bondage in Egypt
And sin, when Cain first desecrated the earth
With the innocent blood of his brother Abel.
Thus blood, sweat, and tears,
Have been with us all the way,
Constantly throughout the years,
From Eden’s garden where we first began
When man molded from clay became a living soul.
To the here and now, by his grace we stand,
While neither flight, plight, or fright
Will they cease to exist. Blood sweat and tears,
Committed until death, with us remain
And never before shall we part.
Though fears often bring with it blood and tears
And through our body flows a unique identity,
An historic chart that links us to our ancestors,
That which is known to us as our DNA
The architect and constructor of our character.
When our emotions run wild our tears begin to flow
Or if our blood boils hot, and our anger we show
Regardless of the reason, or whatever the season
Blood, sweat, and tears will forever remain
Linked from our past to our future
As well as our DNA fingerprint.
A New York Summer
New York City.
When spring yields its way to the summer,
The Big Apple now begins to bake
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