African American Poetry: A Digital Anthology

Joshua Henry Jones, Jr. "Brothers" (1921)

  They bind his feet; they thong his hands 
 With hard hemp rope and iron bands. 
 They scourge his back in ghouhsh glee; 
 And bleed his flesh;—men, mark ye—free. 
 They still his groans with fiendish shout, 
 Where flesh streams red they ply the knout. 
 Thus sons of men feed lust to kill 
 And yet, Oh God! They're brothers still. 
 
 They build a pyre of torch and flame 
 While Justice weeps in deepest shame. 
 E'en Death in pity bows his head, 
 Yet 'midst these men no prayer is said. 
 They gather up charred flesh and bone— 
 Mementos—boasting brave deed done. 
 They sip of gore their souls to fill; 
 Drink deep of blood their hands did spill. 
 
 Go tell the world what men have done 
 Who prate of God and yet have none; 
 Think of themselves as wholly good, 
 Blaspheme the name of brotherhood; 
 Who hearken not as brothers cry 
 For brother's chance to five and die. 
 To keep a demon's murder tryst 
 They'd rend the sepulcher of Christ. 


Published in Poems of the Four Seas, 1921

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