From the throne of God, atop the mountain’s cragged face,
a faint blush bleeds through the ashen darkness' space
Through this small rent in the fractured dam of night,
A golden glow of a resurrected sun spills over a sea of clouds glowing bright
As a philosopher's stone, transfiguring water to wine and wine to frothing milk.
Far below, the misty wisps of a broken billowing tide of white flowing silk,
a slow rolling breaker spreads a whitewash of light across a dusky valley floor
washing away the cobwebs and dream dust of the night before
In its growing brightness the past becomes the future
Illuminated in an amber haze, to the shadow of myths reality is sutured
A lonely, winding river, fences off virgin, fresh, fertile, forests of green
deflowered and defiled by mans touch and his rape most obscene
Their violator having plowed and sowed their fields
left them soiled and partially covered with his foliage green shields
Now pregnant under patchwork quilts and frayed blankets of varying hues,
sower of seeds ignores their dirt stained tears as paths of abuse to excuse
Unnoticed runs in ragged harlequin cloths reveal the dark skin of man’s slave.
With age and years of labor, now she yields poorly, having given all she gave
Here an ancient, well worn, dusty, dung spattered, dirt scar,
the master’s mark of ownership, winds its way bearing a loaded ox car
This ownership brand carries the servant‘s sweat to distant shops and stores
separating creations perfection from nature’s naked shame marked with cabin pocked sores
Passing by, the thirsty byway bends with the damp demands of it’s conjoined consort
belatedly promising marriage, holding intercourse with the twisting, lazy, cafe au lait water escort
Blistered by the bumps of buried boulders, and stained by mottled splotches of shade,
the plain, seldom chosen lane, and its tainted hoary companion come to a deserted country church decayed
lying with its crooked crosses, and crumbling cemetery crypts
that hold the mass of all its believers and non believers, lost on church scripts
Here, as the land’s life blood flows back to its mother, master and slave become one.
And thus from the dust and dirt God created his bastard son.
-
Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: August 4th, 2025 03:14
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Poetic Licence, Friendship, Cheeky Missy, Ellen Marsell, Dan Williams
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Comments10
My dear sorrenbarret, I think you have just shared a lifetime of talent in one piece of outstanding poetry, I am not only in awe, but overwhelmed by the pure extraordinary imagery, your title gives a lot in this poem, powerful and brilliant, for me it's almost the finest battle between all that is pure and beautiful and all that is evil. That's just my take on this. Superb piece my friend wonderful ending too. This poem needs the fresh air to breathe. 🌹
You are too kind my dear friend your most generous review and words of support are most deeply valued. Thank you so very much
Nietszche himself is invited to your séance table !
So sprach Sorenbarrett der Prophet !
Thanks so much Lorenz for the read and comment. Indeed you saw through my thin veil where my nakedness resides. I appreciate the kind words or support my friend.
Cor blimey Guvnor, you are indeed the Guv'nor .. I didn't see that one coming .. Neville
Thanks Neville your read of this piece is most appreciated and in your words I find encouragement. A little cold water is good for opening the eyes.
I am not going to procrastinate, just simply say wonderful write, pleasure to read
Thanks my friend for your read and words of kindness they are always most appreciated and valued
You are very welcome
Well written. Your poem "Servitude" explores themes of oppression, labor, and the relationship between the master and the enslaved. It delves into the history of servitude, highlighting the exploitation of both land and people. The imagery used suggests a contrast between the beauty of nature and the harsh realities of human abuse, symbolizing the loss of innocence and the violence inflicted by colonialism and slavery. The poem culminates in the realization that both master and slave are ultimately connected through their shared humanity and suffering.
The poet aims to shed light on the injustices of servitude, to provoke thought on the connections between oppressor and oppressed, and to encourage reflection on humanity's shared suffering and the impact of history on present realities.
Thank you Friendship for you most insightful view of the meaning of this poem and its implications. You caught well the meaning that we are all masters and slaves to each other and the acceptance of this may lead to cooperation and respect for the other where harmony can be the outcome. It is not by religion that we come to this but by living in peace and harmony with nature.
You are most welcome, Soren. a great lesson to live by{ peace and harmony with nature}
hi this is master class writing at its best
is so powerful imagery totally amazing
words used expresses your poem brilliantly
flows beauifully amazing write
should be proud of yourself well done jim
Jim I thank you for your kindness and support and encouragement it is most appreciated
your welome you have amazing talent
Beautiful poem, sorrenbarrette. One that needs to be read more than a few times.
Thank you so much Jerry I appreciate your review and kind words of support
Good write SB. Though if related to Neetsch - can't even spell him. lol - I steer clear of him. He even looks shifty in his pics.
Thanks so much Orchi yes he was a shifty guy. If you check his box he might still be shifting
Your poem is vast, like a portrait of an entire era.
It leads us through the dawn of time, along dusty roads and fields violated by civilization —
and brings us to an abandoned church,
where the human essence stands bare.
It is not the reader who enters the poem —
the poem enters the reader and leaves its mark.
Powerful and unforgettable.
Thank you Ellen for your review and most generous comment it is most appreciated.
Wow. I was going to highlight the third and fourth verses but that shadows too much of the rest of this fine piece. Heartfelt, almost grieving. "water to wine and wine to frothing milk" fresh and clever. Again, wow!
Thank you so much Dan for your review and kind words of encouragement they are most valued
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