AboveTheRayne

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1. Lost Havana
2. Kill For Power
3. Good Riddance to 2013
4. Searching
5. Compos’d
6. Dwyne For Thee
7. Two Precious Souls
8. Old Cocks Die Soft In The Mud
9. Too Soon Too Late
10. Spilling Blessings

11. Let It Be Today…Tomorrow May Never Come

Lost Havana

Be aware…Swear words included.

Monumental issues drain the working man,
whilst hateful slurs on lives of drones, pitch
daggers ore the land. Take those daggers, turn
them back to the creators of the brew. Giving
shots on a monthly basis, such tainted fucked up
up stew.

Wail for the unsuspected little babes who scream
in saturated pain. Addicted bodies crumble, red
fire rob their veins. A Nugent of society, bore to
life’s crushed and lame. Who has compassion for
the unsaved, who will step forth and give them a
name.

Many extended families lay hidden, disconnected
and abashed. O the crux of the unwanted lay heavy
on the working class. Bemused find young faces,
standing with open hands. Paint my palms you
fucking bastards, you made me what I’am.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: Sept. 28/2014

Kill For Power

Tormented over the crushing blade of hatred,
bludgeoned characters, broken spirits, troubled
storms, slashed hope and wasted life. The
humanic demon surges beneath the shell and
deadens ones soul. Still delving deeper and
deeper yet to the door of death, perceived by
many to be of no return.

Slovenly, distorted minds, captured by the goat
of evil, hoofs trampling all that stand for decency,
for innocence, all who scream for peace, for
deliverance, for hope of a better world.

We hear the tintinnabulation of church bells in
the distance, the stammering sound of pain after
gunshots waning through the air. We hear rock
cry out from an ancestry who died by the hands
of evil, whose pain still drift perhaps unknown in
spirit. Cry for peace, for thunder to reign
truth. Clenching their invisible fists, held high.

Bemused are those who look from behind the
windows of other lands. Transfixed on the
relentless behavior of religious men, the greed
of such mockery of the Holy Spirit. Costume
wearers with deep pockets, hurl rules to starve
and kill. Kill a people, genocide at will. Holy men
gone bad, Holy men that never were. Followers,
the hem of evil robes trail behind.

Tears fall, from mothers, fathers, widows and
widowers. Poor mothers bending in pain, saliva
draining to the ground, when will I see my baby
again, when will I see my baby again, Screaming,
when will I see my baby again. As the tops of
their head kiss the earth, all will dream of a new
life, a new birth.

God Bless the sufferers, dear God your Kingdom
must be full, for the death toll on earth is high.
I pray for “PEACE” may it come soon and find
its way. You are the only one, dear God that
can save this wretched day. Swing low sweet
spirit, swing low sweet spirit and cover all
who stand in need.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: August 01/2014

Good Riddance to 2013…January 2, 2014 at 12:44am

We say good-bye to this horrid number, a year painted Blue,for the coming of gray waters rained an ocean over you. Devastation wreaked with havoc, ripped and tore foundations loose. Some lost a lifetime of treasures and homes we need anew. Rise up and live, start from scratch and build again. You learned of great compassion with many gatherings of new found friends. Praise God much life was not lost, though death visited a few, we bow our heads in prayer, may God watch over all of you.

I felt the pain of the demon once again, that bold constricting evidence. My heart bled with a slow burning fire, as its embers whispered deep. I’m here to pull you down again, I’ll see you drop and weep. I wanted to cry out and scream, nooo this can’t be happening. Surely the beast is old and weary and ready to fall to sleep. Far from the truth, my eyes and soul could not deny as I sat with an empty vessel by my side. His spark had long ago ceased, laying dead while being alive. Swallowed in the jaws of pain, beaten down by societies brutes, robbed by evils heavy hand, addicted by the wrath of man. Black Angel, you are alone, though you try continually to please. That feminine beast wore a cowards cloak and ruled a narcissistic sleeve.

Cowardly beings can no longer uplift. Many answers were vivid on a cold sliced Day. No music, blues or jazz could tear such pain away. Red beast so slight and short, with a mask of innocence, held power over the mass. Still good Samaritans quietly showed their faces and one dared to speak a word or two, but evil had spread its blanket and those who spoke could not be heard.

That racist prick came back to bite me in the ass in the year 2013. Now I stand with eyes opened wide ready to pounce if ever need be. I’ll not be ruled by that demon again, it will not tower over me.

Evil has many followers and they come sometimes in one, two, three. I’ve had my share in 2013, more than one has followed me. Though I’ve never parted, I felt its daggers tear my flesh. It’s brutal force of evil tainted my soul, and as my life uprooted from the core, I asked my God, how much can I take, will you keep allowing more and more. Fingers of control pointed with daggers in their tips, ruled from the white tall pedestal with a powerful silent voice. I’m throwing you to the pit of doom and you’ll not have a choice. That demon will find it’s karma and soon will fade and die. I’ll not bow my head to pray, nor uplift my eyes to the sky. I’ve learned in 2013 that the fight for me is not over. As long as you have those you love and care so deeply about, O you’ll stand by their side and be ready to scream and shout.

Manipulation does not befall me, my mind is focused clear, and those who wish me not to pray can stay the hell over there. Tolerance is not on my menu, acceptance is all He wrote, all differences are a Blessing, and such with me stands vividly dear. Say good-bye to 2013, for some… bent screws were tight. Others felt sharp knives pierce their very soul, while heartache provoked them in the midst of a sleepless night.

O death you crawled the rivers, the valleys and mountains too. You left nothing uncovered, touching many who feared the likes of you. An unwelcomed visitor to most though some held open their arms. I cried a river, once, twice, thrice and more, you know it’s true. And if new deaths was not enough, you brought back memories of the year before and made me stand there gazing as if waiting at death’s door. I gazed at a family member, a youth of many wounds, my tears flowed like a river as I held my head within my room. I looked upon a man whose eyes sunk deep inside and he recalled a day when his wife in his arms did die. O yes many tears befell the memories in the year 2013 and I realized it’s truth as I laid within a dream. Memories of a good friend who
walked boldly deaths lonesome road, no fear, only a smile as she quietly slipped away. I was not there for her last breath but I remember vividly standing by her side for many a beautiful day. Now the curtain of death, slowly closed it’s window to the passing of the year. I say good riddance to 2013, how I wish you were never here.

May 2014 be a year to remember, create beautiful memories to recall. May Jesus be your guide, while our Father in Heaven watches over all.

Blessings to all of you this 2014-01-02

Written by: MelvinaGermain

SEARCHING

Old death you come, a sheet of gray,
upon the sea you lay, thy brothers and sisters
be your guest on this tragic, brutal day.
Weep not! Weep not! This death is good,
Our spirits go home dear Africa.
Lift the bed of slithering doom,
with ne’re a silver or golden spoon.

History lost long poison’d truth,
as time became anew.
Grimaced flesh, ash on black bones.
long nights stood with thy crew.
Raging storms begat thy vessel,
and such words lived long a year
John Newton learned his lesson,
Amazing Grace, we so often hear.

God’s talking book sheds not a word,
silence, three hundred years doth play.
And music came from that Holy book,
White words of wisdom flaunt the page.
“Slaves be obedient to your masters”
From the Holy book, the words did say.
labouring long upon the fields,
in the moonshine sun of a wretched day.

No Misa nor Ifa no Kandake Queens,
no ceremonial dance, nor Yoruba God’s to praise,
only shadows at a glance in the gray night of day.
All traditions tossed asunder, broken and cast aside.
Cast out the savage beast, brainwash a longing mind
Soon believing as the master,
bowing down, while stabbed from behind.

Look beyond the pages of black and white,
Settle down and find your truth.
Be proud of who you are,
delve deep in spiritual gain.
We are children of the Nile,
long where our true history doth reign.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: Nov. 25/2013

© 2013 Above The Rain (All rights reserved)

COMPOS’D

O drape thy arms though far away
upon my body’s fleshless bones.
Above this earth, hallow’d songs cry out,
For thee, wretched, powerless and scorned.

She walks the dale, so gaunt and frail,
Once beauty wore her cheeks of rose.
Now this maiden once so fair,
Treads on the clay of ill repose

No dirge shall play a symphony,
A thousand elegies must be told.
Upon the violin, such strings do play,
A rhythmic tale of long ago.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: Nov. 23 /2013

© 2013 Above The Rain (All rights reserved)

DWYNE FOR THEE

Though this day is dank and niggard.
My thoughts seem awry,
as diamond glints shine,
like the cazami of the sun,
thy image pass me by.

Oh fear, oh fear, thou found my soul.
My love rides the whorrell of pain.
Nary an inkling of coveting my lady love,
in these arms I shall not gain.

Fro ce to ce I give my dirl,
as I search in dire need.
For this love I seek, haunts me so,
while I dwyne loves precious seed.

I shall abide this weary existence,
and pray for a maiden fair.
Let me swoon upon the swatch,
and bury my burdens there.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: August 22/2011

© 2013 Above The Rain (All rights reserved)

Two Precious Souls…Dedicated to Dylan & Samantha

We have not forgotten you, sweet and precious souls.
You are a delight, beautiful jewels, much to behold.
From a Grandparent’s perspective, a gift you truly are.
I know we all agree, you are as precious as a star.

How Blessed you are to have such family,
who embrace you with unconditional love,
who soaks in the beauty of His glory,.
yes from our great Father up above.

So many tears, so many tears, washed away in fear,
never the less, God protected you and kept you safe here.
In the arms of comfort and light, a loving family,
God gifted you both, with much generosity.

Sometimes we are not Blessed, with mothers lovingly.
O some are covered in darkness beneath a dieing tree.
When the saplings grow and mature with love and care,
it is then a dieing mother may come back and be aware.

We judge what we see, but we no not of the past.
Walking in anothers shoes would be a monumental task.
Learning to forgive is as precious as a jewel,
and takes away the darkness of ever becoming cruel.

So much to expect from a young lady and young man,
for you lost those precious years, holding momma’s hand.
Praise God for those who step in, and treasure all they do,
We were truly gifted when we were given you.

Your family will always love you, here to eternity,
May the glory of God’s Blessings, cover you both abundantly.
May lost souls become well, and join our royal train,
sitting beside each other, holding your hands once again.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: Dec. 18/2013

Written by: Dylan’s Grandparent…Melvina Germain
On behalf of Grandparents…Richard Germain (Passed away)
On behalf of Samantha’s Grandparents…Chris & Martine Depasquale

This poem is written from a Grandparents perspective only.

© 2013 Above The Rain (All rights reserved)

Old Cocks Die Soft In The Mud (Writing about a famous couple)

Youth standing beside an old rogue
uplifting dead spirits, bringing them to
life once again. Dressing an old king
who indicates he needs a young friend.

Falling in the clasps of a sordid mess,
an old codger could not pass the test.
To the pit of horror, his scum released,
a racist demon unfolds it’s crease.

Poor, poor man, years unexposed but
as time comes to end, before the
inevitable takes it’s place, an old man
is placed in the hot fire of disgrace.

How do we fare, the youth that brought
him down or was it innocence who
threw in the towel and a demons catch
threw a long home run. A struggle
begins within the deep seated bowel.

Anger begets a scorned, wretched man.
His rage is ugly and his words are dark.
He fires the sword far because he can.
Words so deep marred with dirt, an old
man strikes a young woman down.

A bombastic woman with strength of a
tigress. His sword bounced back and
left no scars, only a smile etched upon
the face of venus and mars.

Old cocks die soft in the mud. Jagged
knives, piercing eyes, crocodile tears,
wear many a disguise. The betrayed,
betrayed by an innovative youth awww
telling it like it is, in the vat of old
truth.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: May 23/2914

Too Soon Too Late (I was thinking of a few famous people I know but one in particular)

You’re one of the chosen few,
in the right place at the right time,
played the right gig,
wrote the right line.
Many were just as good or better,
but you were there
to collect the treasure.
Now you’re in the money,
with your choice of any honey.
The years are dazzling with jewels,
with a long line of followers too.
The jiving and the humping,
leaves your heart a thumping.
On top of the world,
living in a winding swirl.
One day, you wake up in the morning,
and glance around the room,
disheveled and confusing
as the tower fell to doom.
What happened to the glory
go back and tell your story.
The last thing you remember,
was smoking a joint in the back,
and everything after that
seems to fall in lack.
What happened to the fun times,
where did your fame and money go?
Do people remember who you are,
do they want to know?
Those are the questions you ponder,
while sitting in the middle of your
king size bed. Soiled blankets and
sheets, an over sized pillow where
you lay your famous head.
Many of your precious friends
who partied high and low,
have gone to see their maker, or
sitting behind windows in old
folks homes you know.
A tear befalls your eye
as you wipe the sweat from your brow,
and you wonder to yourself,
what will I do now. It’s a sad time,
you need an intervention of love,
but life took a turn for the worst
there’s nothing you can do.
Now the young calls the shots
and wear the same labels as did you.
Love can’t find its way through that
armored wall you built.
Pain hides its tempo
in the ravens and the doves.
No matter how much you want it,
you may never again find love.
Too soon, too late,
you know what
you should have done.
Time has long past
soon you will gaze upwards
toward the sun.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: July 29/2014

Spilling Blessings (A feel good poem for all of you)
May 12, 2014 at 7:36am

Feeling the dew drops faintly touch my thirsty skin,
in soothing memories, I’m wondering where you’ve been.
I’m dancing and twirling catching glimpses of rainbows.
Uplifting dreams, reaching high on the tips of my toes.
Skipping stones, watching the eddies play at the river side
kissing the wind and watching the gentle flow of noon tide.
I’m shrugging my shoulders and smiling from ear to ear,
slowly losing myself in the depth of lovers cheer.
Running in the sand, massaging the bottoms of my feet.
Screaming loud and laughing from way, way down deep.
O I’m swinging from branch to branch because I can.
Living a life of Blessings from God’s Holy hands.
I hear whispers in the windswept golden trees,
and I drop with arms to the sky upon my knees.
O thank you dear Father for all these precious things.
I look forward to the day I see your Angels wings.

Written by: Melvina Germain

Let It Be Today…Tomorrow May Never Come

He called yesterday morning,
come have a drink with me.
Meet me at the Border Crossing
down the street.
I agreed to go,
so many reasons you see.
He was an old friends son,
she left behind in misery.
We never know,
what’s on the road ahead.
Sometimes we fall hard
when those we love are dead.
There he was, a disheveled mess,
almost unrecognizable,
though that smile never changed.
I looked real close and I could see,
that once little boy smiling up at me.
Sitting on the back steps
so sad and blue.
That drunken slur wasn’t something new.
O I’ve heard it before,
from a woman I loved.
History can repeat itself,
when one walks through the door.
His mama died in a drunken haze,
and the son lives trudging in a maze.
I remember the day, that last telephone call.
Come have a drink with me,
yes that’s what she said.
I’ll come tomorrow, I promise I will
but tomorrow never came,
it wasn’t God’s will.
My friend was found dead,
sitting at her kitchen table,
a picture of her dad, a glass of vodka too.
The need to be high, was all she knew.
I grabbed hold of her son,
gave him the tightest hug.
I pray this is not the end,
I’m growing weary,
saying good-bye to old friends.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: Dec. 23/2014