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JC Arrow Jan 2016
What goes up will come in for a landing
The belligerent crash
I'm done trying
For the cushion of wheels spun in a coast to grace
There's too much doing
Every push has me slithering
Through the spittle of lies
Spurting from vicariously indignant mouths
In their search for how hard to work to work less
To help just enough

My naive and belatedly terminated youth
I blame you
More than the latchkey existence
Left to me to **** the boredem with hope


In spite
The breakdown anti-hero prays
For a time everything is a fire in the positive
  Jan 2016 JC Arrow
Justin G
I do not identify myself as a black american
I do not identify myself as an activist
I do not identify myself
As anything other than what I am
Do not arbitrate my existence
It will only magnify your bigotry
Do not lecture me
It will not ratify your ministry
Do not objectify my identity
Do not marginalize my sincerity
I know your criticism
It will not dwindle me
I am defiantly deaf to it
It will not compute
Trust me
It will only intensify
What I occupy
Do not subject me to anomaly
Do not try and direct me
I will not comply
Do not concern yourself
with my essentiality
I am not lost
Do not concern yourself
With what defines me
Just ask
If I am willing and able.
JC Arrow Dec 2011
Hep
All this bone
will be sprinkled with rust                          
Through dust of collapsing cables
           and trust
But we will be here            
to love
as we must

We got time    
sister
To love                  
as we trust
We got time        
brother
To fall                  
as we lust

But no beat        
nor x
nor world-winded hex
can fight the flight and ignite the light
Just lookin to the left            
or right

We are up to come down
in our time to fall out
the go-round      
in the games  
about town                  
   But the petals
and buildings                          
all bill for the dead
when stuffed      
in long boxes
coats filled with lead

We once were and then not
Were but wasn't                                      
in the eyes of the tried
and hands of the tired
and fight to be true                        
now severed for sake of                            
ordered bewilderment
left without cue
in the lies and the cries


of                                        
sometime tomorrow

— The End —