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(A lone voice whispers and sings) |
Press play before reading.
Salute.
I swore I'd find freedom you know
On the fourteenth of June
In 1848
When I laid helpless in the metaphysical snow
After a being of living flesh appeared
And sold my family
While singing heart-lifting songs of sweet salvation with a twisted smile
Sonnets to help heal old wrongs but the darkness that stalks man
Oversea and land
Stepped in with its damned overcoat of black sins
Looking back
I had the tabernacle of sweet worship
Held tightly in-between clenched fists
Fists clasping the only Holy Grail
The soft waist and small hands I would ever need to help me win
And never to fail
But the Shadow People it brought
Stopped our glorious rise with a swing of their insidious ceremonial hammer at a slave auction
With the final knocking in of their conjured version of Jesus's crucifixions last nail
On my Dia Marta
My handmade white cross they had invoked
The Death Knell which commenced since that unnatural spell
Still lingers and leaves me surrounded
By its smiling armies of willing sinners
Beginners in the Greatest of Games
Between two supernatural powers
Still blindly wearing jealously's green blinkers
I once stood alone in the falling rain
Trying to wash away my pain
When it took my heart
But now
Nothing remains
Spring
Summer
Autumn and
Winter is now for winners
People who now carefully and so slowly
Pull out the sharp painful splinters
Like one of life's big hitters
Not just the churchgoers or pastors or vicars
But lifes true warriors
The tainted and emotionally hungry
Trying to swim or wade through all its deep rivers
And as I now look back in all my lifes old mirrors
Seeing my old silver chains which once held me as a blind prisoner
I raise my middle finger to the world
To the political system rigged to make me fail
Laws and policies
Demons
Armies of Darkness
Beginners
Old feelings and even some friends and lovers in the hard times
So now I stand for me
A newly reborn Gods warrior
Surveying all I see
For I'm unstoppable today
No matter what the universe screams
Or dares to find the courage to say
(A lone voice sings)
I waited patiently for the Lord
And he, in compassion to me, heard my vocation
And put a new melody into my soul
In the form of endless blessings — even thanksgiving
For with God
Blessed-blessed is the man
That has set his intention, his desire in the Lord!
O, Lord! My God!
Extraordinary is your incredible story
My Saviour and glory
My new congregation
Allow all that seek thee be joyous for all to see
Let your love be their salvation
In all nation
The Lord be praised as they are raised
The Lord be praised
The Lord be praised as they are raised
(C) Copyright John Duffy
Back story.
Henry Box Brown was a 19th-century Virginia slave who escaped to freedom at the age of 33 by arranging to have himself mailed in a wooden crate in 1849.
To abolitionists in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
For a short time, Brown became a noted abolitionist speaker in the northeast United States.
He decided to escape after his family was sold without him knowing, to others, at auction.
Unfortunately, he never saw them again, perhaps only in dreams. Salute.
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