play – staged a small street
a clean name…linen hall
Words are nature with no sound,
for how can we appreciate the warbler’s song
when we do not listen to the lyrics?
One wears a halo, glowing like the future:
White robes, golden smile — heavenly composure.
This one’s got vows and rules that I must follow:
Ways of ensuring that I have a tomorrow.
The whereabouts of your mind are anybody’s guess,
Wearing nothing but a smile, you look so well dressed.
And should a child make it
To the densely packed production line,
There are no lifetime guarantees
No best before, or after birthday dates
Supply outcries demand.
But demand increases should you move
Within the factory floor,
Be placed onto the packaged line
Or stamped and wrapped:
“For Family Wealth”
What’s done is done
All we can do is learn to accept it and
move forward graciously
Time waits for no man
And no man achieves by waiting
we cry the same tears
and wash the same pains
but we are not one
and yet here we remain.
My precious ally has found a new face
Not touched by grief, lack of sleep
And broken dreams.
Yes a soldier now that was a thought
I’d never had before
I didn’t fight, I’d never fought
And I’d never been to war.
But myself, and millions of others
Decided to heed the call
And despite the tears of our mothers
We trooped off all proud and tall
Together as mates from our towns
All over these sceptered isles
We left young and happy, but soon frowns
Replaced our naïve smiles.
I stare at the noise, drawn to the void,
Conversations that I’ll craftily avoid;
I’ll walk off the earth, dying since my birth,
Keep running till my bones hit the dirt.
Under the shower, let the hotness devour,
And the water sink into my eyes like a rotten flower;
I’ve got the deadest face, I’m just a waste of space,
I’ll let my heart run free as my soul loses grace.
Real love begins with a kiss
Real love begins with a text
But that’s not all,
It’s reaching out
And falling into
It is just an excuse
to control, to abuse
Cameras in every street
check where and when we meet
Plump and fluorescent skin
And eyes with bottomless wells of life
Scan this world without regret
Supple hearts that swell
With charcoal-filtered love
Strike strong against virgin chests
Ernest ears that hear only
Poetry and peace, perk to
The direction of their mother’s whisper
Sour we are, we no longer water the roots to our fruitful aspirations.
How are we all stuck in this condiment of indignation.
I’m scared for my generation.
When walking down my own street I catch a bullet for my pigmentation.
And we scream black lives matter creating a tumultuous pattern
Like we’re not the ones doing the eliminating.
Women sleeping with men to fill spaces that have long been vacant.
Men sleeping with women whom they find better naked.
The redundancy order
Of a tireless occupation
We desire a quick fix
More than the desire to make it.