Appalled Poem by Lynn W. Petty
Appalled
I gasped at what I held in my two hands.
My son had handed me the leather whip,
A bullwhip, five feet long, a master used
To subjugate his slaves unto his will.
And then, he handed me the branding irons,
Which heated to a red-hot glow were used
To brand a human as a master's own.
I felt disgust, appalled, to think they scorched
A person's brow, or seared a woman's breast
To indicate a master's ownership
Of human beings. Slaves were classified
As lower than the cattle in the field,
Who lived in quarters, a degree above,
What masters would provide for their prize pigs.
Slave girls were tagged as 'breeders, ' bred like dogs,
To bind in servitude their newborn child.
A slave was valued by his 'use, ' not by
His human value. He was bought and sold
Upon an auction block, with heifers, hogs
And brooder mares, like chattel on a farm.
Denied all self-respect and dignity,
Through burning indignation, slaves maintained
An inner purpose which prevailed despite
The efforts to debase them less than swine.
What was the mastic causing them to live
When death was far their better choice than life?
An old black man advised me of the cause.
'There was a bond of faith they found within
Their gospel, where they heard the Word of God,
Both sung and spoken from the church lectern.
A basic trust that God would elevate
Them from their desperate depravation. They
Endured because of those who were to come,
The future generations, whom they hoped
Could rise above the level, which the slaves
Themselves then lived. Belief blazed up like fire
Through their religion. An awakening,
Had lighted the dark caves of their deep grief,
Ignited from the embers of their dreams.'
this poem is exceptional, to come from 'I felt disgust, appalled, to think they scorched A person's brow, or seared a woman's breast To indicate a master's ownership Of human beings. Slaves were classified As lower than the cattle in the field, ' the horrible truth artfully expressed to the reason for hope within salves 'An old black man advised me of the cause. 'There was a bond of faith they found within Their gospel, where they heard the Word of God, Both sung and spoken from the church lectern. A basic trust that God would elevate Them from their desperate depravation. They Endured because of those who were to come, The future generations, whom they hoped Could rise above the level, which the slaves Themselves then lived. Belief blazed up like fire Through their religion. An awakening, Had lighted the dark caves of their deep grief, Ignited from the embers of their dreams.'' the gifts of grace and hope, sadly so lacking in this world, perhaps now more than then faith sustains less, but 'Ignited from the embers of their dreams' is the constant human desire to throw off shackles, achieve a better life for our children and future generations. More poets and readers need to read your poems Lynn, the readers will come 10+++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 6:31:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
i wonder about the slave museum. where did it go? where is it now? was it free to visit? was it popular? etc. i have read some bad stuff about slaves and masters. but i've read that some masters were much more humane towards their slaves, if you can imagine a humane slave master. of course, we have heard that George Washington, Revolutionary War general and first President of the U.S.A. and other leaders in America's early days were owners of slaves. it was widely accepted apparently, as the poem mentions, that slaves were classified as lower than the cattle in the field (or at least lower orders of animals from the white race of humans) . if a belief in God helped some slaves to endure their lives of labor and misuse, then good for them. thanks, Lynn bri :) bri :)