Wednesday, February 9, 2011

WOMAN OF THE WEEPING NIGHT

Woman, oh woman, of the weeping night,
The womb of man that weeps her children’s plight;
Mother of all mothers, womb of darkness
From whence came man, the infant, and the light
Of all the nations. Oh Eve, oh Eden,
Woman of the weeping womb, oh weeping womb,
Flower full of nectar that bore the fruit,
And the seed, in sweat and pain of labour,
Flower from whence came honey and the strong.
Oh woman whose sin was in believing
A deception and a lie that man born
Of woman and of womb would live forever
And not surely die even in the flesh,
Until the pain of Cain’s stone tolled a bell,
A burning knell felt deep within her belly.
Woman of the weeping womb, oh weeping womb,
Ebony well from whence springs milk and honey
And myrrh of tears more bitter than calumba,
Mixed with crimson blood of her placenta,
Flowing, falling, like Zambezi River
Into swirling whirlpools of the ocean.
Oh weeping womb, oh weeping continent,
Mother, sister, daughter of Yemanja,
When will your tribulations be over?
Woman, oh woman, of the weeping night…

Copyright ©2011 by G. Newton V. Chance

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George Newton Vivian Chance (Trinidad and Tobago) -- member of the Poet Society of Trinidad and Tobago, http://poetssocietytt.blogspot.com/ and the World Poets Society, http://world-poets.blogspot.com/ -- born in Tobago on 3rd March 1957. While residing at Rio Claro was inspired to write over a hundred poems at the turn of the Millennium. Hobbies include playing wind instruments, building computers, observing nature, reading and writing poetry. Believes that the power of a song is in its ability to evoke emotions by the marriage of lyric and music but that music without lyric can be just as powerful, that lyric without music can also be just as powerful, that there is music in the lyric and that lyric can be simple yet profound. Also, in this the age of computers, would like to model his lines after simple and efficient code and, analogous to Object Oriented Programming, achieve most of his imagery from nouns and verbs, avoiding the bloat and excess of unnecessary adjectives. This is what he aspires to attain in his poetry.

I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older
than the flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.

I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy bosom turn
all golden in the sunset.

I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

by Langston Hughes

the poet writes the poem;
the reader gives it life
(© G. Newton V. Chance)
Make somebody happy (© Alexander Ligertwood & Carlos Santana)

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