We are the fallen stars
Rejected by the night sky
Accepted by the light

Earth became our home
Humans as we're called
Thinking we are special
Though just specks of dust
Falling through the core
Landing on the crust

We used to be out there
Made up galaxies and its parts
We used to bring out light
Now we're just broken little shards

Frustration tinckling burning stretching
Boundaries unknown forlorn chocking
Safety net safety run from it run towards it
Run somewhere then stand still and smell
Roses stones grass manure ozon after the rain
Face down into mud wet dusty thick lick it
Power of random existence with only an
Unexplainable draw of some strange kind
The kind of kindness or despair inexplicable
My arms outstretched to merge into your
Sorrow
I feel alive in it I float and see the light and
Open the window to let the air in
Then exhausted I crash and forget who was it
I was supposed to be

Does sand evolve
Into a millions pieces of
Bits of cosmos and our consciousness
Intermixed with dozens of generations
Of feet drowned into
A physical experience of this
Moment
Firmly planted in this
Coolness surrounded by the
Salty inhalations of
Something so alive it pains
One thing I wish for is
To
Feel

So strange how language can fall apart
Like pieces of a broken puzzle,
Double sided and colored by
Trust or lack of it,
Love or fear
Strange is a word
All perceive from a window
Of their own unique bubble
So when peering outside we are still
Split atoms of a mass
That has no certainty
It ever existed

We are the *******, we are the spicks.
We are the kykes, we are the hicks.
We're the one's who wait our turn,
To read the books you wish to burn.

We are the honkies, the mussies with guns.
We are the beaten, the poor and the dumb.
We see the horrors, the mistrust and the hate.
We are the people, the ones who relate.

We are the chinks, the bindis, the *****.
We are the losers, the mixed and the muts.
We are alone, left to fight.
We are the ones crying at night.

We are the triggers, set on the gun.
We are the fighters, refusing to run.
We see the world through darkened glass.
We see each other as mutants to pass.

If only we learn, it could be done...
We are all different, but we are all one.

Ours was less an Arab Spring
and more a half-hearted coup d'état.
There was no immolation,
no burning desire on your part;
no passion in the streets of you.

You stole in at night
through a window I'd left open,
a crack in my need
for something more than mere
existence.  From me there was
no resistance.

I let you lead, and followed blindly;
my voice I raised on your behalf
against all that I had known before.
Your words, your whispers
alone could incite me to storm
against the strongest walls.

Now, as summer comes
and this sectarian affair,
this spring uprising
that we called us has ended,
I sweep the streets of our debris
and wander down
the empty avenues
of you, half-hearted.

r ~ 6/5/14