Unjust Trade
I.
An endless wet: Earth’s gathered sea-salt tears
Wept-swept before a rising, darkening gale,
As dim horizon fades and disappears
Behind a slave ship’s squared tri-masted sail.
Her hold full-filled with human suffering,
With chain-torn flesh sustained by lice-laced gruel,
To serve the needs of cotton, cane and king;
A blood-sweat trade in souls both cursed and cruel.
As Trade winds, Gulf Stream, doldrums, hurricane
Compete both for-against the seaman’s hand
To tack attack the bounding wave-tossed main
On sea chart dotted lines from land to land.
While slavers and their clients profit from
The sacrifice of human life for rum.
II.
And sadly, what once was, is still today,
As women, men and children without name,
Like cattle–bought and sold the same old way–
Abused and used by traders dead to shame.
Such wretched refuse, culled from distant shores,
Vast huddled masses, yearning to breathe free;
In hopeless hope, ensnared by drug-turfed wars,
Stripped bare of both their lives and liberty.
The darkness falls, horizons disappear,
While endless sea-salt tears are wept and shed,
And cries and prayers that God alone can hear
Are uttered as if uttered by the dead.
And as before and more, the slavers sell
Their souls for sex and money, power . . . and hell.
James A. Tweedie is a retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He has written and published six novels, one collection of short stories, and four collections of poetry including Sidekicks, Mostly Sonnets, and Laughing Matters, all with Dunecrest Press. His poems have been published nationally and internationally in both print and online media. He was honored with being chosen as the winner of the 2021 SCP International Poetry Competition.
Two timely pieces, James. I’ve just returned from the Gulf (not the Gulf of Mexico, the Arabian Gulf), where often the line between slavery, bonded Labour and legitimate employment is razor thin.
Thanks for the reads.