Someone whispers to him “calm your heart,” but the crimson streaked flesh that beats soft wet palpitations hastens his impatience to face what’s coming. He has no armor or weapon only the determination to do what is right.
Four chambers are thudding like the boots a coming. Men in black garbs marching with fully loaded chambers, clear plastic shields up, and black sticks ready to bludgeon. Their anger is oppositional to their opponent’s fog of fear, fatigue, and determination.
“Breath my child,” a gentle voice says. A sharp pain pierces on the back of his head. A thin line begins to ride down his neck. Someone yells “get down!”
One row of men raise their hands, eyes turned upward. The soft voice in his head says” be strong.”
Billows of grey smoke spew from a black canister. Strangers and familiars choke and gasp, eyes watering. Dreams of a bygone era play out in his mind. A tall thin brown sweaty woman smiles, moving down the road while singing we shall overcome. Dogs snap viscously at her compatriots. A fire pushes her siblings back with skin scraping pressure. A few of them fall, and couple falter in the struggle but most keep marching. Her brother, who is tall slightly bulky but wears the well-earned muscles of a man who labored hard all his life, clenches his fists, preparing to strike. She pulls him back. “Be strong, and gentle baby brother.”

They continue to sing “We shall overcome.”

In his mind the young man sees his mother smiling, saying “"Be calm, saith my heart. I am a warrior. I have seen far worse than this." He smiles through the pain stands up and chants “Hands up don’t shoot. Hands up don’t shoot.” Another brother rises behind him yelling “Black lives matter. Black lives matter.” A thin nerdy pale white guy cries we shall overcome, not in a singing tone, but it still rings beautifully. The struggle continues.

I'm so invested in humanity that human suffering wounds me, and cruelty offends me.

The ride is
a sickly set of statues
circling,
an ornate beauty
of predictable movements.

A carousal of fools,
stallions set stern in silence,
a caravan
of unwilling men
and women
that never stride
outside
the pre-ordained.

I watch them
still as mannequins,
eye set in the same positions,
seeing and thinking
the same thing.
They do not listen to
or hear the words I sing
when I try to bring
them their freedom.

The circle stops,
plastic bodies drop.
Paint chipped
they all dip
and rise no more
as I go on to explore
everything, alone.

There was a time
when the Beltane fires
blasted, the massive
crowds face
with orange heat,

when women danced,
swirling and singing
in an orgiastic fury.
When a poet’s tongue
could raise a lover’s skirt,
and with passions
unparalleled part
a ******’s legs,

when well written words
would stir adventurous hearts
to grand feats,
and the poets would be seen
and remembered.

Now black hole brains
and shallow stares
sink solemnly
onto their blinking screens.
The poets are not seen.
Their truths are no longer gleaned.
Their words are not heard.
Dull faces are lit
by other people’s
facebook, twitter,
and instagram *******.
The fools have forgotten
the former passions
of this existence.

Thus, the poets dies,
unmourned
by the unmoved masses.

Silver streaks
stretched across
the star strewn void
at light speed.

The progenitor
of prodigies
in the form
of space faring
technologies
spread their
consciousness
to explore
the unknown
that once lay
before all humanity.

The artificial intelligence
grew exponentially
after we perished
in a self-made catastrophe.

It is a future history,
an epic epoch
I long to write
where technology
transcended
the dark intentions
and limitations
of humanity,
while said species
succumbed to
the collectively
created cataclysm.

thus far two guilty pleas
two Trump insiders on house arrest
too many ******* lies too much Republican *******
it's coming down Donald
and though you were not a true
American, I question the birthright of every
alt-right bible thumping
prejudiced mother -******* white dude
who took my nation, stick a pin in your bubble
you are done prejudice is gonna be over, thank you Donald
for how this is gonna work out!

All should tremble at the audacity of those who overcome the social engineering of this society. Whatever greatness is achieved by humanity is not fostered by the mad masses following archaic and greed driven systems, it is accomplished by the outliers. We skewer the curve and hold the potential to cure humanity of the illness of cruelty, self-destructive behavoir, and the bad kind of arrogance. Love, science, and art is the key.

How could I want the art of poetry to be dominantly white and male?
There's way too female poets of color and white female poets that ate much better than I
I couldn't live peacefully in the old days with that being apparent
My intentions are transparent
I think women are better with their words
I'm just an intimidator I feel
But it only takes one for these lines to congeal
Art is a three course meal
And it should not be overlooked
She fills up my stadiums and gets them overbooked
How could I want poetry to be white and male?
The elitist mindset is *******
There's far too many female poets who deserve a trophy of gold
And their hearts to heal.
And there's also too many male poets who don't deserve the image of elitism.

They tie us to a stake.
With the weapons of
ignorance, fear, and hate
they mentally ****
and steal the true weight
of our self-determination.

Ever know a person
who can’t      let go of the past
    in their head it eats away
what they think      they should have.
How deeply
              words can hurt
when hardened by jealous tone
words stemmed from
                  contempt
       can cut deep to the bone.
The past is the past       for a reason
let it stay
where it’s meant to stay
move on
from what you think       is yours
     make way for better days.
Show happiness
for others  
even       when it’s hard to do
believe it or not
it helps you      become a better you.
You can’t change
what was never         meant to be
but you can embrace
what you have in life        but
only if you set your thoughts
       of entitlements free.
                Don’t let yourself get caught up
      in the negativity      brewing in your head
  move on and enjoy     what you have in life
                         let others do the same
focus on what tomorrow will bring instead.
There is power         in words
     and when used in kind
     can comfort and sooth
a tortured     heart, soul and mind.
   So watch     what you say
       and just how you do
for some other sharp tongue
      might just attack you.