So you are a man,
Shackled,
A man that weaves
Together fear and confusion
Beyond what is known skin deep,
A man overblown with
Certain landscapes and familiarity.
What words come out
From your version of Heaven,
From your Heaven to other lands,
The red winds that blow deep
Tickling strings of rhetoric
Listen,
You are what misunderstood
Like a certain star that refuses
To pass light in certain spectra,
Different star,
Wrong star,
Dying star,
And your sky will be taken away
By hypnotic cages
And civilized torture
Speak, speak a confession citizen
When you are found
Guilty and your manhood
Is bled into submission,
You will see no sunsets,
You will bear a cross never your own
You, man,
Born in the tide of crystalline confusion,
The world is predicted
And the tombs are full of
The innocent by faith
I tell you because I am a man,
And I do not know what kind you are
Problems, they are problems,
Is it you who blow up the constellations?
You dance on the heels of Jihad,
Do you not?
Are you not guilty by faith?
Now that the angels cry,
Tossed into the fray of which God
Is holier,
Tell me, is this fair,
Fair the torment,
Fair the fear,
Fair the justice of manipulation?
Answer me, answer me
Man of faith,
Because I too am confused,
I am bound by love of country,
Yet tormented by ethics and morals,
****** this humanity!
Now, now I must know,
I am splintered into many people,
However I am also your friend,
The day burns with rhetoric,
I do not know you man,
I cannot seem to help you,
Much less help my understanding
And soon,
Soon I am called unpatriotic,
They shall call me traitor,
Because I wish to understand.
All I say,
All I know,
Tell me,
Why have they caged you?
Say nothing,
I can't believe you,
Say everything,
I doubt every breath.
And now I speak as a man,
I speak to you,
I am a poet,
And to write humanity is my curse,
No allusions,
No metaphorical terms,
You Muslim,
You Man,
I do not understand:
On the moon God watches
On the wind the angels cry,
And men do not speak,
They cannot understand.
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 5:16 PM UTC
So you are a man,
Shackled,
A man that weaves
Together fear and confusion
Beyond what is known skin deep,
A man overblown with
Certain landscapes and familiarity.
What words come out
From your version of Heaven,
From your Heaven to other lands,
The red winds that blow deep
Tickling strings of rhetoric
Listen,
You are what misunderstood
Like a certain star that refuses
To pass light in certain spectra,
Different star,
Wrong star,
Dying star,
And your sky will be taken away
By hypnotic cages
And civilized torture
Speak, speak a confession citizen
When you are found
Guilty and your manhood
Is bled into submission,
You will see no sunsets,
You will bear a cross never your own
You, man,
Born in the tide of crystalline confusion,
The world is predicted
And the tombs are full of
The innocent by faith
I tell you because I am a man,
And I do not know what kind you are
Problems, they are problems,
Is it you who blow up the constellations?
You dance on the heels of Jihad,
Do you not?
Are you not guilty by faith?
Now that the angels cry,
Tossed into the fray of which God
Is holier,
Tell me, is this fair,
Fair the torment,
Fair the fear,
Fair the justice of manipulation?
Answer me, answer me
Man of faith,
Because I too am confused,
I am bound by love of country,
Yet tormented by ethics and morals,
****** this humanity!
Now, now I must know,
I am splintered into many people,
However I am also your friend,
The day burns with rhetoric,
I do not know you man,
I cannot seem to help you,
Much less help my understanding
And soon,
Soon I am called unpatriotic,
They shall call me traitor,
Because I wish to understand.
All I say,
All I know,
Tell me,
Why have they caged you?
Say nothing,
I can't believe you,
Say everything,
I doubt every breath.
And now I speak as a man,
I speak to you,
I am a poet,
And to write humanity is my curse,
No allusions,
No metaphorical terms,
You Muslim,
You Man,
I do not understand:
On the moon God watches
On the wind the angels cry,
And men do not speak,
They cannot understand.
Sometimes these things must be put out in the open. I am no judge, I am American, but we cannot blame a beautiful people for the actions of the few. And the message works both ways. As poets we must be socially responsible. This poem is meant to reflect both sides and both natures. We are poets, we can all understand.
