Poetry in Commotion, by E Lloyd Kelly, the-poet.
A poem on the condition of mother Earth, and some of her chosen people nowadays.
This is poetry in commotion. Our devotion on how to go on out and block a man from the damn earth thing feeling, like, mad about, nothing.
And as to how we had been treating our one and only habitation called Mother Earth, or something.
One was to have seen in some social media forum, coming to us in recent times and altered decorum. Imaginary imagery of other types of supposedly.
Well-placed arguments under teleprompter letterings captioned to say.
The black people are the stupidest people on the planetary system today, that’s the most outrageous thing to say! Nay? Or yay!
But instead of anger and our outrage, someone else and I were heard shouting to have them say “yeah.” Yeah man, in our ears. Because.
That was to be our first reaction, to the said comments coming off of them and there’s the cause.
Even though I myself, and he, and them, are oblivious to the obviously, obvious reason. That, he and I are that. Yes. That kind of man, and we would never become so quietened so much as not to be able to stand up and say. We are happy in our own skin today.
But why? Someone else was heard to have asked of him, and I?
It’s because, one has a way of knowing the truth when it is spoken, even if and when such a one never knew it before then, and this is one such truth that has been poking. Like.
Poking hard at you and me in a recent time span. You and I can’t be denied that one. But then again.
Even if those reports were fake news of sorts, or falsely came those reports back to us, in talks.
There must have been some truth to it for it to have grown legs. And taken off, take to the sky and fly. Wouldn’t that be a possible reason why?
Got some things to say on these and other such issues.
How did we as a people get to such a place as the tissue? To have nothing but mud smoke and dirt hurling at us, and them, and the misuse.
Would have lived and happened to have seen nations born out of next to nothing, was to have happened in my own life-time even. As a matter of fox teething, I am even older than that thieving. Yeah, at least one of those little brats breeding.
But they have risen up out of the dust to be contending. And commanding a place in the seats of the powerful wielding, at us, in fact. At World power and, at last. And even dominance too, too soon. And this is happening in our life and times, in abundance to our dad, and mum.
But there is a people somewhere on this Earth's end vessel, not very sure what they are worth and lessen, or from whence they had come but they are nonetheless, here.
For a while yet, a moment to spare, you bet.
This people have done nothing with what they were given, to get. Like.
The chosen piece of earthland, even the best.
The very same piece that a few of the other men beasts, did come over here to feast and test, or then go over there to possess, like this.
A small bit here and there from under our feet they took it square, yes, and then ventured out to go and make something great, out of it, and ate, there.
And then all of a sudden, those other people were to have seen it, again.
Saw what was to have happened then. Saw what the newcomers had done with what they were to have taken away, from them.
The tiny bits of paper and the right thing of the pen. Still taking and wasting what was left of us and them.
Now they want it back, but. To go and do what? One was to have heard it asked?
To go and add to the much which they still have done got? Oh my God, like, still got lit, and lighting yet the more to go lite up a lot more of it?
While the rest of us and them. Are still sitting here and doing nothing with our own? Yeah! You don’t say.
Meanwhile, the other man is doing many things yet. Observing you, and building military things like, jet.
And studying and discovering some more, you bet. Very many are those kinds of things.
Even down to the tiniest of a molecular being, of genes, and the differences in between, even.
This one too, and the other, and what makes one person or thing to be different from the brother.
And how to manipulate things in order to make them out to serve him better, better him than you, you know, the go-getter.
That is who — mi bredda. Oh yes. Yes, my dear brother.
He has managed to convince those other people, those right over there on the over-laden vehicle.
That their ways are old and outdated, and not good anymore, underrated.
So, those people over there would have given up on the ways and customs.
Those ways of their forefathers’ generations.
Go on, cuss them, yes, those accursed things.
And those who have taken on to themselves, those of the other man or men as if it was to come to them and their children, because they love the others’ ways and customs, and all of their fabulous must come things.
Much more so than they ever did love the foolishness, of their own forefathers’ messing.
So now it’s the other men who feed them, with altered and manipulated feeding, some kind of G’s us approved and proven food they call them or something.
Gives of water to drink and wash them when, and which quenches your thirst for a short season, and for a while yes, that’s the only reason.
But they will surely cleanse the earth of you in the long runs the Nile.
And when you didn’t even know how to know what was the crushing style. That which was to be happening until it would have happened to you chyle, yes my child.
Yet trust and obey that man is what you do. All the while. Go fix it boo. Now, smile. And look at who? You, because.
He clothes them, and you. Educate you too, gives laws to govern meant to rudely awaken you, and medicine to heal you after the seasonal flew.
After they have done sick the big bad dog on you, sorry, I meant to say, whenever you are ill figured, go figure it out, and go away, boo.
And given to you religion about, who? A religiously godly bout of doubt, old or new.
And dwindle dumb norms, abnormally stout too, to go perform on you.
And also those Normans’ norms, maybe. And strangely are the customs, and money to spend to buy them and then some.
Some other nothingness and nonsense, from them. The just comes.
And get poorer for so doing, and more are those in spirit, even.
And even waste you away and prepare you to die. And go to heaven, but why? Oh my.
And now that the time has come for their actual dying and for the wasting.
Starting off from their children’s lickerish tongue tasting.
Or more like not having children as the basic chase thing. Because those are bad for the square of them. Sorry, I meant to say, beware of them.
For the environment of the day.
And for the earth’s equilibrium, and the ecosystems, and species preservation. And such are the other things to men shun.
But as for us and our way of life, those must be observed, says those other or-theirs, of the knights.
No one is going to deprive us of our ways, of life, nor cause us to stop the wares and tares. That’s right.
Or in other words, cause us to change our ways such as theirs to become ours.
Because, it’s a given, from the creator of all things eve, I mean, even.
That “us” here means, they, they must have the very best and the most, yay!
And all that there is to have of this earth, of course.
And at the expense and even the extinction of others, such as us, and the brothers, so why bothers?
Not for them though, the other men foe. It’s not about them and us, no. It’s about all of us, the Neanderthals, wink-wink. That is all.
Now think about this. And that. And all other such things, and the facts, all of the many wonders of wonderful things about this beautiful rock-band called earth, hey! Good evening. Or morning, it’s earlier. On the dirt.
Which we want to preserve for whoever will come after us, not to be leaving.
It’s not about us and them though, we all are in this together, so.
If we have all been bad then we shall go out back together.
Because together we have been bad stewards of this, the earth thing feeling. And the weather.
So now we must make a pack together towards her healing, to bring her back to her former, you know, like, her former glory, so said her, not me.
All of us together must do this story us weather, because we are equally in it, altogether.
And equally responsible for what has happened to her, in the pasture. And even now, at last sir.
And therefore, we will be rewarded equally for the ultimate outcome which we would have fabricated with our own hands, on our knees. Of course.
And out of the collective imagination airy, systems of ours. See? Yeah man, like these, right-on.
Hey, you black… I mean, that man, lie to me. Tell me you are worth saving. Again.
By E Lloyd Kelly. May 2020
Some sh.. I mean, some sort of social commentary, telling tales with poetry and snippets of Jamaican Patois inserted here and there throughout, as may be found fitting. Yeah mon, a yaad mi cum fram. #realjamaicanyardie, #yaadiesinting
About the Creator
E. Lloyd K
E Lloyd Kelly is an author, poet, podcaster, & blogger. Born in Jamaica, W.I. Now resides in Mtl. Where, when not writing, drives a shuttle bus at McGill University Check my podcast at inkyitalk.com. Connect: https://linktr.ee/writingelk
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.