Let the judges go!
A poem from the Rumbles from the Grinder series
Tale I
The tribunal is standing
The lawyers are ready
No jury
One witness on either side: same girl!
‘The accused must rise!’
I am the one who stands.
Fifty years of delict
Like a guillotine falls the verdict
“Guilty!”
Guilty for the Court
Twelve judges, no jury
“Guilty’’ of ‘not good enough for me.’
And every single face in the amphitheater
Carries my face on their shoulders
“Guilty!’’ the heralds bellow
“Guilty!’’ sharp as an arrow
“Guilty!’’ from high and low
“Guilty’’ of ‘not good enough for me’
I take in the verdict and beg for mercy
But never have I ever
had a drop of mercy
for me
No mercy, no story
No mercy, no poetry
No mercy, no glory
No mercy, no happy
‘Open the doors!’ whispers Grandmother Moon
‘Fire the lawyers!’ breathes Mother Earth
‘Burn the benches!’ sings Father Sky
‘Let the judges go!’ cries the Holy Heart
‘Let the judges go, go, go...’
‘Then grab a pen, sit down, and write.’
Tale II
The blade has been sharpened
The henchman is ready.
It’s been the Queen’s decision
Acclaimed by her People.
One monarch, no jury.
‘The accused must kneel!’
I put my head on the block.
Punished for a lifetime of crime
And every single action was mine
“Guilty!’’
Guilty for the Queen
Powerful and mighty
“Guilty!’’ of ‘not good enough for me’
And every single face in the courtyard
Carries my face on their shoulders
“Guilty!’’ the hammers sound
“Guilty!’’ the voices resound
“Guilty!’’ the echoes rebound
“Guilty!’’ of ‘not good enough for me’
I take in the verdict and beg for mercy
But never have I ever
had a drop of mercy
for me
No mercy, no story
No mercy, no poetry
No mercy, no glory
No mercy, no happy
‘Blow up the gates!’ whispers Grandmother Moon
‘Replace the Queen!’ breathes Mother Earth
‘Torch the castle!’ sings Father Sky
‘Let the judges go!’ cries the Holy Heart
‘Let the judges go, go, go...’
‘Then grab a pen, sit down, and write.’
Tale III
The Priest has prepared his prayers
The grave has been dug
No family
Just the holy man and the gravediggers
‘Let’s bury this jug!’
I am the one in the coffin
The backs turned upon the death sentence
Otherness is the offense
“Guilty!’’
Guilty for the Family
Three judges, no jury
“Guilty!’’ of ‘not good enough for me.’
And every single face in the audience
Carried my face on their shoulders
“Guilty!’’ the Grandmother says
“Guilty!’’ the Sister hisses
“Guilty!’’ the Stepmother shouts
“Guilty!’’ of ‘not good enough for me’
I take in the verdict and bent my head in resignation
For never have I ever
had a drop of mercy
for me
No mercy, no story
No mercy, no poetry
No mercy, no glory
No mercy, no happy
‘Brake a window!’ whispers Grandmother Moon
‘Leave the house!’ breathes Mother Earth
‘Sail out to sea!’ sings Father Sky
‘Let the judges go!’ cries the Holy Heart
‘Let the judges go, go, go...’
‘Then grab a pen, sit down, and write.’
Tale IV
The beach is longer than eyes can see
Bordering a sweet-water sea
My ship is ready
I sail out of the Bay of Humiliation
I leave the Coast of Shame
I pass the Columns of Faces Turned
Into the empty space
‘Open the latches!’ whispers Grandmother Moon
‘Search the ship’s hull!’ breathes Mother Earth
‘Free the oppressors!’ sings Father Sky
‘Let the judges go!’ cries the Holy Heart
‘Let the judges go, go, go...’
And I find the judges
Huddled deep within
Diminished, yet still conspiring.
As I gather them
And bring them up to the surface
They become seagulls and fly away
On the unbroken wings of poetry.
‘Free!’ whispers Grandmother Moon
‘Free!’ breathes Mother Earth
‘Free!’ sings Father Sky
‘You let the judges go!’ cries the Holy Heart
‘You let the judges go, go, go...’
Then I grab a pen, sit down, and write.
NB: All artists have to let their inner judge go and take the risk of sending their work out. For myself, in order to write publishing my most intimate work, I had to let go of my inner judges, which stemmed, in part, from my father’s girlfriend’s family and their collective rejection as I was a teenager.
