I almost couldn’t believe it
But then your fingers
Made their way
Through these locks and
I, awakening, knew
They were your fingers and
Your touch
Pulling me deeper
Into your current and
In your running stream am
I purified and made a
New mind.
© 2013 Malcolm Jarell
For my Mia Ellen-Marie
Come my love,
Let us grow together
As roses
Fully blooming
With aromas
Intoxicating, driving us
Deeper in passion.
Let the colour
Of our love, red
With desire, catch
The sun’s attention
And lift our hearts
Higher.
Oh, let us be
Roses my love,
Growing forever,
Together.
(For Tray’Von, Eric, Michael, Ferguson, and all others oppressed.)
In this time of raging war
Let them hear an uproar.
Let them see the uprising;
Brothers and sisters joining,
Banding together increasing unity.
Let them see us guiding our
Children to their light that they
May inherit their destiny.
Let them see our strength
And be afraid, be forewarned
That fear no longer resides here,
That we’ve come a long journey
From darkness and will
Return no more.
No more will we bend
To social injustice or be
Blanketed in bigotry.
Let them hear the refusal.
We will not see another slain
Nor will we cry at the loss
Of one more name.
One more dream erased.
Let them understand Truth
And Righteousness must stand
All will be revealed due the
Master’s plan.
© 2014 Malcolm Jarell
In a time of fire, the wicked
Hide their eyes from astounding truths
As crisis creeps upon their heels.
They waste their seed in
Unruly ground and
Cast their cares to the winds.
Through ill-gotten riches,
They war and rage and
Befall an expected end.
Who is he that deigns
To destruction and delights
His life in sin?
When the Righteous come
Bearing words of good news,
He turns his back to them.
Terror by day, savage by night
The wicked wax on in a
Jeopardous plot as greed and
Glory impede upon their minds
They edge walk, swiftly,
And double talk behind a
Mask that grins and lies
Heavy are the chains
Around the feet of he who
Obliges the law of the street.
Envy encroaches him,
Traps him quickly, and
Leads him to defeat.
Then the Righteous are
Pleaded to come again and
Save his soul from the heat.
© 2014 Malcolm Jarell
Gather your young, here,
To the foot of my mountain
And I will show you those who
Have climbed before you.
Mothers, for long, have cried
Heavy and burdensome tears
Seeing their daughters and sons
Deprived of length of years.
Their hearts are empty,
Devoid, and increasingly sorrowful.
The dirge they sing springs up
From their ancestral souls, from
Mothers who mourned and wept
In the days of old.
History yet speaks.
Fix your attention on the
Silent war and ever-raging battle:
The genocide of our youth.
Where justice has failed,
A new struggle fueled by unrest
Quickly begins.
Rioters charge forth, their hands
Rolled in fists seeking to stake their claim
Searching for one to blame.
Others trudge on ignorant, blind,
And not listening as hatred deepens
And bullets continue whistling.
History yet speaks.
I have questioned your system
And have challenged your courage
Repeatedly. I have seen you cower
In fear of moving forward.
I have reminded you of horrors
Not long departed. Even the trees,
Though innocent, cry out for the helpless
ornaments left hanging and Swaying
from their heightened Branches.
Voices from Selma and Birmingham,
From the deep, dark, and muddy banks
Of the Mississippi River echo to you
Today, pleading you to remember and
Forget not their names.
And many names there were
Martyred and slain, carrying the banner
Though bloodied and stained,
Further beyond that racist shore.
History yet Speaks.
I’d rather not if you say I should
I’ll be different as you knew I would.
My perfection is far from perfect.
Overrated, exaggerated but righteous.
Keep with you your imitation of life
Bought and paid for (19.95 + S & H)
I’ll keep with me what I’ve learned
Through experience, hard earned truth,
Found in those who flourished in wisdom.
Not easily raised so not easily broken
I’ll be when peril come, rise above the storm
And rest among the clouds
While you, with fear, found worrisome
Suffocate in your own sea,
See you sink and drown.
I’d rather not if you think I should
I’ll be greatness as you knew I would.
© 2011 Malcolm Jarell
There exists in our time today, a gap in between those who fought for justice and those who fall daily to the deception of a broken system. We are responsible and indebted to our ancestors to carry out the tedious task of preserving Black People EVERYWHERE. As the great Stokely Carmichael said, “We cannot fail our ancestors.” Let our mission be to carry our people on, legend to legend and beyond.
Malcolm Jarell
RebelPoetSpeaks 