Poem Hunter
The Ship Rocks$$$$copper
JP (Scratches on the page, making noise. / New York City)

The Ship Rocks$$$$copper

Copper is my slave name.
Brought from my home land.
Chained in the bowls of this ship.
Along with my fractured hip.
The chains wear the skin away.
From each sway from the waves ways.
Vomit and waste are on the floor.
Wet beams and stench - nevermore.
Babies born with the fetus on the floor.
Chains rattle and moans - like none before.
Big brass locks on every door.
Food maybe - but foul as before.
Bathrooms are on the floor.
The chains locked and secured door.
Yells and screams - then a silent moan.
Cries of yesterday and a hut home.
RUM-IRON-beads our cost on shore.
Then up the gangway into hell's door.
Sold at auction like history before.
Surely, GOD, must have a law.

from my new book;
search: POEWHIT


User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

Amazing atmosperic write here Joe...really makes you feel you are in the shadows watching all this...10+++
Scratches, my A* *! These are deep-cut images in a fine display of contemporary poetics... You Go Joe Po! FjR
Cooper - remarkable Scratches turns out at you... Though it is grief has blossomed... 10 for my, Joe Tsira
stunning picture in my head reading this one...well written...thanks