I try to forget and to think not about it

But the images still haunt me

For they are engraved in my head

The images of those atrocious and persistent times

Times of thraldom and struggles for freedom

Oh! Those times!


Times when brothers and sisters of my semblance were been molested, traded and being treated thus

Looked down upon, called names and being treated in ways even animals deserved more

Times when my brothers and sisters were burned, hanged, fettered

Even worse, mutilated, branded and imprisoned

Brothers and sisters ladened with grief, with cannibalic treatment given towards them

Repulsive and physical abuse inflicted upon them

Oh! Those times!


Times when brothers are being stripped naked and hanged by the wrists and their flesh lay open with the cow skin

Sisters hanged not withstanding their pregnancy and being flogged as hard as their masters could lick till they all are streaming with blood

Times filled with horror that no real African could bear to think of it, for it emotionally spifflicate us deep inside

Oh! Those times!


I dare not envisioned when a brother was staked to the ground and his ears cut off, bit, bit by bit

Times when innocent sisters were been robbed of their virtues

Times when brothers and sisters were beaten so severe that injuries were life threatening

Beaten so brutally resulting in psychological effect causing traumatic syndrome

Oh! Those times!






Stumbling down an empty street everyday

He learns to survive

From a district where survival was art

Hopes and dreams shattered

With the black clouds covering the sky

With heavy sulphuric air blowing making people die

He did what he had to, to stay alive

He steal, he lies

He did what he had to, or else he dies

Looking at his reflection on the mirror

He sees the face of a child running in fear

People ignoring him

For they are too caught up with money and greed

But he kept three words in mind


For if you do, you die on the street


Ambiguous and mystifying

Vague and ambivalent

If you desire it, you’re at war

Addictive like a drug

Once into it, it becloud you

Many use it to suppress

For few that use it in good ways

Happiness does create

It comes in different forms

To some, it is guns

Others see it as the ability to read and write

To many, it is money

That trapped beast waiting to be set lose

It is controllable by the wise only

But once it engulfs you

It tears you apart

It does not have any abode

It is ubiquitous

It is two sided once acquired

Either you dictate it or it does you

For he is a dictator.


Down and my soul weary

Clouded with troubles and my heart weak

I never say never

Looking opaque

And my path murky

Struggling to survive

Hidden in shadows

I aspire

Trying to make myself known

Craving desperately for love

Put down by people with cruel intent

But I was so inspired

Depressed and thinking negatively

Voice soaked in emotions

And with gloomy face always

I remain firm and unwavering in my purpose

My wall brought down by severe people of nasty purpose

Held hostage by circumstances

Despair and in thought of suicide

But without fail…………

I rose, for I was persistent

I was the scorn of the community

And my life thwarted

But faith and hope kept me moving

And now I have crossed that ocean of problems

I ran fast past that hurricane of depression

Now I’m walking on water

Living that dream

My very own dream


Just like music

I want to be free

Relax my mind

Go places and touch lives


Just like music

I want to express myself

My ideas, my desires

And to bring people together


Just like music

I want to have influence on people

Their culture, taste and style

And to warn and encourage them on life’s path


Just like music

I want to understand people

Religions, ethics and tribes

Feel and connect with them


Just like music

I want to calm those in distress

Revitalize those in anguish in a variety of ways

And to eliminate people’s personal fears and doubts


Just like music

I want to reduce the despair man’s stress and pains

To unwind and enrich people

And to offer ways to explore mysteries of consciousness

To live free as wind

Just like music………..Music

Jackie Mihalchick

Hostess of A Clairvoyant Journey and Your Intuitive Realtor


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hughiegibson author

blogging whats in my head

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