Naw, this is not aconfession buta state of being. Can’t get withtakin’ women’s rightsto abortion, can’tget with facist power grabs. Can’t get witha population thatis willin’ to liveenslavedbecause youbringin’downthehumancondition. “Land of the free….”
Tag Archives: Poetry
Horses a No, no?
A white guy on the bus complained about policemen forbidden to use horses. I asked, “and what about whips?” The white guy shut up. Wondered where the attack dogs and water canons were. They still have rubber bullets and knees on necks.
I was raised in a Cage, a poem
The walls were most bare during the rare prey seasons and leaves long disintegrated. Outside my Cage, the world was false and gilded. I’m free now, but there Is no one to mate With because I’m too rare: Bisexual, non-Abrahamian, Spiritually sexual Black guy…. Seeks sexually needy Sex dreamer and Wiccan, either sex can apply….Continue reading “I was raised in a Cage, a poem”
Right to Life….
White people regularly avoid me, Ignoring my greetings, some with open malice. If I’d feelings left in my bleeding heart I would feel the pain of their hatred. So do I wish them dead? I say, ‘No’. Because the universe is seemingly void of life, and our planet the only home for life. But theContinue reading “Right to Life….”
Smokin’ Rome, a poem
A man askedif I would helpwith the bucketbrigade tosave Rome fromburning. I said no, andand litmy cigarette fromamong it’s flames. I smiled atoothless grin, ~puff~
They sell themselves short….a poem.
People put up with too much; for the sake of peace, or to gain wealth. In doing so they swallow their pride and then stop listening to their inner voice. For a since of peace They will gladly abandon their homes and sacrifice their children. Only to buy homelessness. For wealth they sell their soulsContinue reading “They sell themselves short….a poem.”
….by the way, you’re bleeding to death….a poem
Insult turned to brawling, turned to wars without end…. We’ve bled you and I, for country, glory and and excuses. Death comes to us all, so we are not afraid of dyin’, But how and why we die? I remember dyin’, a spear through my heart, seekin’ glory. No one remembers me. Will anyone rememberContinue reading “….by the way, you’re bleeding to death….a poem”
6 Mile and Woodward Ave., a poem
Old litter sit in gutterswhile ladieswalk the corner, onereceiving prayer. The coffee cups aren’t free,But you can buy it with coffee. I’ve never been this far awayfrom home,only to find6 Mile and Woodward Ave. But isn’t that cornereverywhere?
Docile Dating Pool, a poem
Women are beautiful,
But can’t date or sleep
with them.
A state of civil war….a poem
I’m at war,with the unincorporatedSelf and it’s allies,society. We were not always enemies,But whole,With a single purpose:To exist, grow and prosper. Lean, lightly muscled with a clear mind. Now, we are a state ofCivil war. My enemies will join me,or die.
Liferaft in the Abyss 