Day: Mar 3, 2024

In front of  the black, the mad and the Jew

The despised are the black, the mad and the Jew
The  crippled, the blind and the child of such   ones
Worse,  even  more, if you’re female too

When the race started  no whistle blew
The  rich whites were already far,far along
In front of  the black, the mad and the Jew

The rewards are controlled by those of pale hue
When the poor get there the money has gone
Definitely will if you’re female too

Jesus was God but that  was no use
He hung on his Cross and so could not run
With  the black, the mad , the crippled  the Jew

What do we see when we look at the News
Genocide,torture and battles still on
You will be raped if you’re  a female too

Here are the weapons, the rockets that stun
Inventing all these gives the rich men   their fun
The despised are the black, the mad and the Jew
Worse,  even  more, if you’re female too

 

The children of the genocides still plead

Like a broken shell, our world  has cracked
Whose the foot  that  heavily did tread?
Now we wander  in  this City sacked

Once worlds break  how can we bring them back?
Must we  mourn  until our hearts are fed?
Like a pretty shell, our world  has cracked

Where once stood towers  the buildings lie down  flat
A jagged silence taunts from overhead
 As we wander  in  this City sacked

What New Messiah can  find  and love the gap?
Who will give the wine and whose the bread?
Like a cockleshell, our world  has cracked

The death of  God in Auschwitz  on the Rack
The torture of  the Arabs, children  bleed
We cry out , the slouching beast is back

Did we ever think of those in need?
The children of the genocide still plead
Like a broken shell, the world   has cracked
Now we stumble,blind to what we lack

Seems like the ice is inside me

Air,bitter they call it,whispers to the sweet planes of my face,
Shrieks shrill to my cavities,ears,mouth and nose;penetrates all that’s open;
Probing like a surgeon’s knife,to see what healing damage it might do.
A frozen finger touches my heart;
Seems like the ice is inside me sending urgent warnings.

On that high inner mountain,you’ll feel nothing at all…
You’ll be the snowman, a bloody icicle;
An Old Testament of Endurance;
A legend like the pale polar bears, snuffling uneasily around the summit
Touching a woman’s heart is the quickest way to gain her attention
I’m looking at you;you’re in pieces.You’re a puzzle,a jigsaw with two double dynamos;
A broken racing bicycle crossed with two ice skates.
Ten motorboats crashed into a yacht and abandoned on a Swiss lake in winter.
Can I leave you scattered like this?
You’re a man in a penguin suit;
Diplomatic, attached with the coldest reserves.
You’re a spy from the court of the Vatican City
A screaming Pope;
An unbaptized demon.
A lost angel with no hands;
A half hung side of meat;
An unbroken rampant horse deluded by winds east.
We were split,one from another;
Split in ourselves too–thoughts and emotions
Are raw like meat,weeping as they are pulled apart into islands.
I see there’s a cold window between us.
I rub it with my damp coat sleeve,like children do,licking on it;
And see your eyes gleam in hope like greenish diamonds.
Yet I can’t touch you, until we learn how to melt glass.
Are you trying too as you smile weakly,
desperately holding onto this impossible slippery glass?
We’ll try  to reach you at the bottom of whatever frozen ocean you sigh in. to
Here you are,a flat and two-dimensional Prospero.
You rise like a non-U-boat already firing at the upper orders.
Here you are walking through what seemed like ruins
And you are not just alive, but burning.

Essex harvest

The fields in flames, the stubble set alight
The earth herself was burning in our sight
The ancient lands of Essex still grew grain
As hares ran into hedgerows fearing pain

The empty road, the smoke, the land on fire
The ashes left a newer crop would sire
The land to Epping vast and flat was bright
Yet covered in its smoke there was no light

Our little human world is but a skin
Destruction easy with a word or bomb
Dependent on the government, those liars
Weak as watered gruel, they must be fired

Caught inside the symbols of the Earth
From destruction comes a brave new birth