Ship Ahoy

Scan the horizon,

Vessel arriving.

Crammed full with

Wretched human beings.

 

Auction market awaits,

Subjection there fate.

Human merchandise,

Hollow staring eyes.

Nothing but chattel.

 

Metal contraptions,

Bleeding and binding.

Small black children,

Suffering and crying.

Desolation, deprivation.

 

Four hundred years

Of enforced diaspora,

Feeding imperial grandeur.

Trading black man’s tears

For money, profit, euphoria.

 

Twelve million people

Atlantic Ocean crossed.

Chained to humiliation,

Abuse and victimisation.

Contrary to emancipation.

 

Resolve this chapter

Of Black History.

Freedom to choose;

Reparation, compensation,

Repatriation, reconciliation.

 

© Ken Hanson

 

Here’s a poem a dear Christian friend of mine entered in a ‘Black History’ poetry competition. Now while its theme is really sad from an historic point of view, its ending highlights in part that progress does change for the better, although sometimes very slow, as in this instance. Lots of us look at many aspects in life that we’d like to change, but we should not feel guilty for ‘not’ being able to perhaps directly affect that change, but we can indirectly affect some changes by raising awareness of such needed instances. Empathy is a nice feeling to share, so don’t suffer in silence!

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.