ReIncarnate {A Poetic Short Story}

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Norfolk, Virginia

1802

Eli Harper loved his job; it took a bit of class,

to not show much enjoyment while you whoop a n1gger's @ss,

as Overseer of The Lyle Plantation it was tough,

the pay was good but old man Lyle supressed the hate too much.

So good at what he did a few mishaps were overlooked,

like leaving slaves within the cotton patch to overcook,

the old man almost loved his n1ggers; it made Eli sick,

and when Lyle died he knew that it'd no longer be like this.

The old man's son was ready to take over for his pop,

and Michael hated n1ggers just like Eli did no doubt,

they'd grew up on this farm and both were young at twenty-two,

enough years were ahead for them to live life plenty cool.

Today was a rare treat for Eli; Will was off in back,

and Eli couldn't wait to whip the black skin off his back,

for trying to escape; old Will had wiggled past the line,

of property and forest; it may kill his @ss this time.

The leather bullwhip shined as Eli took it off the rack,

he donned his favorite whipping gloves and then took off his hat,

the other slaves all stood around to witness what ensued,

poor Will was tied to tree and would receive the justice due.

As Eli stood there ready to administer a lash,

Laverne, who was Will's wife, was there and sitting in the grass,

"Oh please suh Massa Eli; please don't whip his tail too raw,

'cause Will just tried to get away and see his ailin' pa."

The laugh from Eli's gut had bellowed loud for all to hear,

"Well rules are rules; he broke 'em so he's got my law to fear."

The wind was still and hot as Eli's arm went rearin' back,

and all the way to Richmond ev'ry slave could hear the CRACK!

Will's voice howled with agony; wolves baying at the moon,

the bullwhip struck his back repeatedly and painful too,

it soon was obvious to all how Eli loved his work,

his smile was much too bright which made Will's body jump and lurch.

"Please stop Massa Eli please, you're killin' him with licks!"

Laverne cried out as Will continuously shrilled and twitched,

when it was said and done Will's body shimmered red like punch,

for sixty bullwhip lashes left him spread dead in the sun.

"NOOOOO!" Laverne then screamed caressing old Will's fallen frame,

while Eli rolled his whip the slaves were all appalled and shamed,

"Take that n1gger to his grave!" he spat with no regard,

Laverne's head shook while speaking low "You'll never know of God!"

A backhand slap surprised her; Eli then asked "What'd you say?!"

Laverne did not back down, she simply answered "Run today,

'cause by the time I'm done you're gonna wish you never tried,

to ridicule; I give to you the curse to never die!

Of course your shell will perish but your mind'll run intact,

your body dies you'll find that you'll just keep on coming back,

as anything organic; reincarnate passing time,

aware of ev'ry instant while rememb'ring passing lives...."

BANG!

The gunshot took the words out what Laverne was tryna say,

by turning off her lifeline as the bullet fried her brain,

she slumped atop her husband's chest as Eli quickened up,

the pace in which he walked while yelling "Clean those n1ggers up!"

Norfolk, Virginia

1852

Fifty years had come and gone for Eli in a flash,

he'd lived a life that one would envy; kept slaves in the smash,

Old Man Lyle had passed away in eighteen zero five,

and Michael'd grown the plantation like weeds in zero time.

Eli had invested letting Michael man the ship,

the men had made that slavery money grow hand over fist,

eliminating cotton what they did was breed the help,

developing a glutt'nous appetite; a greed for wealth.

Eli'd gotten married too and raised a couple kids,

he had no real complaints 'til cancer claimed a couple ribs,

and lung; now on his deathbed spitting snot into a rag,

the words Laverne had spoke had been forgotten just like that.

Eli's wife Sammantha sat there crying at his side,

prepared for him to knuckle up and take that final ride,

and when The Reaper came for him he'd knew his time to die,

a cough then sent old Eli on a slide into the light....

Jackson, Mississippi

1852

Eli heard commotion all around him, maybe joy,

he then heard someone speak about a newborn baby boy,

it all seemed very weird as if the crazy noise were dimmed,

and Eli soon was shocked to find the baby boy was him!

Opening his eyes was laborsome to say the least,

he smiled inside and felt as though he'd gone and slayed the beast,

another life to live through; he could see no harm in that,

some lady picked him up; he then could see his arm was black.

The lady looked to be a n1gger midwife, yes a slave,

she snuggled him as if those instincts of the nesting came,

so naturally to her; she rose her head and shouted out,

"Come and see your first son Dante 'cause he's noddin' out!"

A man whose skin was VERY dark then looked him in the face,

"I guess we'll call him Luther," he exhaled a breath then traced,

the baby's forehead with his finger gently as can be,

then Dante smiled and whispered "Little Luther, yes we're free."

Memphis, Tennessee

1869

Living life as Luther Campbell gave Eli the fits,

he thought that being black was being something like a twit,

his father Dante was the Baptist pastor of a church,

and ev'ry chance he got Eli made sure the b@st@rd hurt.

Today we'd call him problem child; a kid with special needs,

a white soul in a black boy's body wasn't best indeed,

his mother died while giving birth so Dante was his all,

to make things worse this body lacked the height; he wasn't tall.

So Eli'd start all kinds of trouble all around the town,

from fights to vandilism; anything that folks frowned down,

upon which cast poor Dante in a less than bright'ning light,

and it was just that thinking which had found him tied tonight.

He'd stolen wads of money from the city's toughest thug,

who'd found and then accosted him with threats of dumpin' slugs,

amidst his head and body then had tied him to the chair,

he now sat in and beat him 'til he bled from eyes and hair.

The hoodlum's name was Tommy and he stood 'bout six foot three,

with pounds of weight in muscles that the blindest kids could see,

a punch he'd thrown had threatened to extinguish Eli's light,

he'd shut his mouth which then made Tommy bring the heat to light.

"I promise you that this'll be the final time I ask,

now where'd the hell you hide it?! N1gga best to find my cash!"

The snubnose barrel pressed into the back of Eli's head,

"Now cough up that locale or smack between the eyes; you're dead!"

Tommy'd finished talking to this pipsqueak and the fact,

was that the kid said nothing so he ed the hammer back,

"See yo @ss in H3ll!" he hollered out before he tapped,

the trigger with his finger making Eli roar to black.

Chicago, Illinois

1910

To Eli it was instantaneous but here's the fact,

the man was unaware that forty-one long years had passed,

since he'd been killed by Tommy; the ironic sentiment?

He'd come back as a roach in a Chicago tenement,

in turn of cent'ry Illinois; the scene was kind of bats,

to share residing dwellings with the furry mice and rats,

and scamp'ring for your life each day while foraging for food,

or good sources of water to sustain and nourish you.

He thought about the words that whooped down n1gger's wife done spoke,

before he knocked her head off with the Reuger slug; gunsmoke,

had trailed from out the barrel tracing lines into the sky,

turns out she hadn't lied about the curse to never die,

forever reincarnated; one body to the next,

with mem'ries of the lives he'd lived 'cause God in retrospect,

had co-signed on this curse with her; one day it ought'a cease,

he figured but until that day this how it's gonna be.

A pregnant female skittered by him; time to move his @ss,

he recognized that day was breaking since the moon aint last,

some bread crumbs caught his smell so he was quick and on it fast,

a heel then caught the pregnant female squarely on her back.

Lights then came on to brighten up the kitchen and its floor,

while ev'rybody scattered as the boot-heel squished some more,

of Eli's roach peoples but for him it was too late,

his body crunched like fatback; his last thought? It must be fate....

The African Safari

2014

Living as a tiger wasn't really all that bad,

as Eli grazed beneath the sun and thought of all that had,

transpired since he'd long ago been stepped on as a roach,

he'd died to live and die again repeated; that's the joke.

There'd never be a way for poor old Eli to escape,

the many lives he'd yet to live; so then he'll be like tape,

just sticking to whatever fate decided he would be,

you may just cross his path one day who knows? But he would see......

©2014

The Cunning Linguist