There was a dream. A dream of a
long road that led to
a rock. Beside the rock was a
snake and the pigeon
were meeting there,
the hummingbird
and crocodile were
resting before the grass,
and darkness was behind
us.

The hills were flat
and the deserts was covered in roses.
The land was filled with animals of
every kind in perfect unity surrounded
by a lights of beauty and wonder filled all
along the rivers and trees, calming the
world with grace and glory and awe.

My mother were there and father,
my friends some which at a time
were my enemies, and my people
gathered waiting for me.
I was home. I was home.

The eternal honey from the rock,
poured upon our feast,
love and light overwhelmed
the atmosphere.

In turn, fear's face was crushed,
tears and pain was a forgotten memory,
illness and disorder was alien, and the colors
of seven thousand rainbows danced in the air.

The surface of music sounded so perfect,
flowers sung around our yards and
rivers of waters between our mansions that we lived in,
and perfect praise was upon our lips.

We were robed in glory and our hearts magnified
the living Lord, our thoughts were pure,
and our bodies were perfectly whole.
My house was filled with glory and perfect love,
perfect love. I was home.

Then I saw fire which echoed
the sound of the world before the room
where the Lord stood, and there was chaos
in the land before where He heard the Earth's cries.

The movement, and passion of the Lord's
tears filled this one room, and brought me
in such distress, what room was this?

I heard people's homes were torn apart by rage and
hatred, men were slaughtered and women
ravaged, echoes of countless babies
tore through the Lord's heart.
The sound of curses stung his eyes,
and rebellion ripped his veins,
we heard the devil's laughter,
and people worshiping evil.
The Lord wept.

I shouted, "Lord what can we do, we must
do something, is there something we can do?"

He said nothing.

And the river of blood in his eyes, filled
with such compassion and heavy warmth,
almost like honey.

He held my hand, and then finally
replied, "I sent my only son to save the world,
for how I love them, so that
no one may fall but have an everlasting life . "

And then suddenly I woke up with
His tears in my eyes.

Filled with perfect love, I arose
from my bed. I ran outside
picked up a rock
headed toward that road.

We’d been together so long, it seemed
That nothing could tear us apart,
We lived our lives in a world of dreams
And Barbara lived in my heart,
But frost had covered the window pane
And then it began to snow,
As Barbara turned, with a look of pain
And said, ‘It’s best that you go.’

I didn’t know what she meant at first
As I looked up from my book,
“Go where?’ I questioned, but thought again
As she quelled my heart with a look.
‘I said I want you to leave,’ she cried,
And her face was set in stone,
‘We’ve come to the end of the path,’ she sighed,
‘I want to be left alone.’

Then suddenly all confusion reined
I didn’t know what to say,
Whatever had brought this mood on her,
I wished it would go away.
But she was firm, and she packed my things
And ushered me out the door,
I stood there shivering in the cold
To be back on my own once more.

I found a flat and I camped the night
There was barely a stick or chair,
I’d have to buy all the furniture
To make it a home in there.
But I sat and cried in the empty room
As the question came back, ‘Why?’
I’d loved her so and my heart was torn,
I thought I wanted to die.

I went to her with my questions, but
She slammed the door in my face,
Whatever love she had had for me
Had vanished, without a trace.
It hurt so much that she cut me off
With never so much as a sigh,
I called that all that I wanted was
To tell me the reason, why?

The roses had bloomed so late that year
Were still in the garden bed,
We’d always tended the bush with joy,
We both loved the colour red,
So I snipped one off as I left one day,
And planted it under her door,
To let her know that I loved her still
I didn’t know how to say more.

Her brother called in a week or so,
Said she was in hospital,
She’d gone in just for a minor cure
And thought that he’d better tell.
So I caught the bus and I went on down
With a quaking fear in my heart,
She hadn’t said there was something wrong
Before she tore us apart.

The doctor came in his long white coat,
His brow and his face was grim,
I said, ‘Don’t tell me the news is bad,’
He said, ‘I’m out on a limb.
Your wife just passed from the surgery,
But she pulled, from under her clothes,
And asked if I’d pass this on to you,’
In his hand was a red, red rose.

David Lewis Paget

My beloved, tonight it is more than perfect, the zephyr winds sing so
sweetly your name and the crystal stars shine like your earrings.
As the White Mountains glint gracefully, and the wind speaks
over our fingers, upon our balcony, let’s dance, my beloved.

Now over the thousand streams and star crystals in the air,
You can see our prayers fill up the milky rivers in the sky.
Below the lights of Christmas, before the blue rivers of stars,
let’s dance like the shadows and the circles of the moonlight.

Now dreams rise over like the wind and shine so easily
But time falls quickly, and worries fall away so slowly.
So let the rage of your fears dance around and under your legs.
For the world is falling asleep, calling for the colors of their dreams.

So let the tresses of your hair fall freely,
And the wind of your perfume
Soak up the flames of your heart.
Spinning like the starlight, tasting every feeling,
Let the steel blue sky and its stars fall all around you.

Dance wildly, my beloved, let's dance like the songbird who sings,
let’s dance forever, until we wash into the skyline of our dreams.

Chewie hasn’t touched his food
I hope he’ll be o.k..
It hasn’t been the same for him
Since Leia passed away.

He’s a melancholy Wookie
as anyone can see.
He mopes around the ship all day
And he’s molting terribly

Twas bad enough when Obi-wan
was struck down by Darth Vader.
But it’s no surprise when an old man dies
That’s expected, now or later.

Our Princess was a force you see
Bringing gales of laughter
which is why we want her here
and not in the hereafter.

He’s a melancholy Wookie
as anyone can see.
He mopes around the ship all day
And he’s molting terribly.


I hope one day we’ll meet again
In Mos Eisley’s Cantina
That gold bikini may not fit
But we’d still be glad to see her.

American
Whiteness
the greatest mental illness of all time
even before they were diagnosed
the world has become safer
because the world finally
has funded a wall around America
a padded room institution
where the dissociative disorder
can destroy itself
and not everyone else in the process
the casual crisis
is an emergency
whiteness the coup d’état
is wreaking havoc
on the human soul
domesticated whiteness
riskiest to do business with
spilling blood all around the world
quarantine the biohazard
whiteness on its journey of impunity
when my family was most vulnerable
to the morbid lust
of the mental illness of whiteness
we gently genocidally refer to as social construction
which is really the deconstruction
of the black human
and the origins of humanity
American
American built by the pieces of my family
glued and mortared by the blood and sweat
spilled from them
the most dangerous deconstruction site
in the world
biological warfare
spewing
leaking
uncontrollably
contaminating humanity
polluting its evolution
at war with symbiosis
for the purity of fascism sake
a coup d’état called American whiteness
which is also been a long
untreated dissociative disorder