Excerpt for Journey a Collection of Writings by Merrill Guillory by , available in its entirety at Smashwords


A Collection of Writings by Merrill Guillory

Copyright ©2017 by Merrill Guillory


Cover Design: Julian Martin Guillory

Editor: Terri Harper/Terristranscripts@gmail.com

Self-Published and Printed by

CreateSpace, an Amazon.com Company

Also available for Kindle

ISBN-13: 978-1546697688

ISBN-10: 1546697683

Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data:

Printed in the United States of America


All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning, or by any information storage and retrieval system whatsoever, without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Praise for Merrill Guillory

The poetry of Merrill Guillory is at once personal and political; steeped in tradition and erasing boundaries all the same, he expertly navigates the depths of the human soul with a love and compassion rarely seen. The poetry of Merrill Guillory grabs you by the throat and ever so gently melts the rocks in your heart. The lives he paints, Louisiana mostly, are descendants of people of bondage, chattel. Merrill Guillory does not turn from this brutal truth, he instead enlists it, favors it, reveals it in sometimes startling, always illuminating ways. His words sing and cut; eloquent and quiet before the lowered boom. ~ Rosalind Bell, Author

Many of Merrill Guillory’s true-to-life experiences are revealed in his poetry. His words are authentically poignant. One feels Merrill’s inner self exploding on the pages of his poetry, revealing the truth and beauty of his emotions. His works are revealing and refreshing. His hidden ability to communicate was never evident in the early and middle years of his life. We now have an accomplished poet in our midst. ~ Charles A. Honore, Author


Dedicated in loving memory of my parents, my brothers, and friend Octave ‘OJ’ Guillory

Table of Contents









Hungry Wind


Negro Child


I am Man




Glass Ceiling






Lady Liberty

Omran Daqneech

Strange Gods

O. J.


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5





Demented Minds


Summer of ‘57


Climate Change


Lazy River





Forbidden Love

I Love You

I Watched You

Lost Love







Red Tails


Shattered Dreams

About the Author


Father, Gervis Guillory ; Mother, Lillian Guillory

Gravesite of my brother, Ronald James Guillory

Dec. 19, 1946 -- February. 21, 1947


Life bursts forth, a wailing yell

Little eyes piercing the unknown

Tiny hands and feet so frail

Writhing face that knows not where he belongs

Her arms caress that which was part of her

A tender, gentle, loving smile so warm

Her caring touch, soft kiss, her soothing face

His little eyes, search and meet...now there’s calm

Her smile is as fresh as the morning dew

Her benevolent spirit breathes forth a new horizon

A light shined forth with a burst of hue

loving, kindness, graciousness to name a few

A moment in time, captured in space

Splintered memories, a void of fractured parts

Precious moment locked in time is now far removed

Only memories supplant his grieving heart

A shadow hovers over, life slowly moves away

Deep into this place, I know not where

Only her eyes speak, from a place far away

Dimmer, dimmer, dim...I know not where

In this hallow chamber of dementia’s mind

Deep into the shadow of this forsaken hell

Innocence pierces this dark and shadowy time

Her soft hands reach, she utters a wailing yell

“Momma, momma!” He cries, she only stares

From great depth she now descends

A lone tear drop from he knows not where

Into her mother's arms she now ascends

The night is past, light has dawned with lasting peace

Joy indescribable, she’s now embraced

He caresses her into His gentle spirit of infinite care

her loving heart awaits His moment of timeless grace


Dementia came early in the life of mother, robbing her of her precious senior years, and would also claim her most intimate memory. Her first child would forever remain on her lips and her eyes would tell the story of the pain she experienced in the second month of nineteen and forty-seven. Mom and dad lived in a small rural house, more likened to a shed, ten miles from the nearest city and doctor’s care. In the early morning hours on a cold windy morning Gervis and Lillian Guillory laid their first born into his final resting place, unknowing that new life was taking form inside of her. In their memory, I share this intimate story Mom would repeat so dear to her heart.

An oil lamp cast a somber shadow

as the flickering light danced upon the walls.

The winter of nineteen forty-seven was harsh,

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