A wise way to speak is to let silence perceive—
Yes! Yes! That is the way to live.
Arguments and violence are the norm,
While the silent ones are obviously a freak.
Enigmatic world we live in;
Society rants status, yet none pass the criteria.
Oh, you've such a beautiful fever dream—
Nope, I’m just suffering from malaria
Everyone's a threat until you get them to confront ya.
Weren’t you speaking volumes?
Talkin’ about how you’d demolish me!
Nope, that’s just my dyslexia.
Even the once stiff Language now follows the belief.
Instead of “figures of speech”, there are “figures that speak”.
They swear to follow democracy! They care only about our currency.
Oops! I meant to say they only care about competency.
I swear it isn’t a gimmick! Oh! you meant to say Hypocrisy.
Well a little dilly dally is fine for such a huge democratic bureaucracy!
Let’s change the tone a bit.
These niche little hypocrites
Care only about positions, propaganda and politics!
You think they care about us?
Sure, when the chicken talks to sheep
which causes a flock of birds to beep, just like when “Thanos” snapped the gauntlet and blipped and none of us got up our seat and raged all over the streets when “Iron man” died on that clip. Welp let me order me a figurine!
These are the things that I’d rather do
Than hear you people preach about bigots called idiots!
(Hahaha No apologies for this slip.) I mean figures! Are you asleep?
Crude words that stick to anyone. Ribbit!
But trust me when I say these figures have powerful latency.
Sure truth maybe a little twisted
Like how dark humour is now everyone’s shtick!
I just bend it so that you too can steal laugh for a bit.
I vent in verses, absurd as concrete truths!
Ahem! I mean to say as absolute as concrete truths!

That feels like a little play fight, isn’t it?
Maybe my memory is rigged but I can’t remember a time
when there wasn’t a confrontation among the fellowship.
Maybe I am a crazy little minx
But it’s crazy how they get to fully live.
A grand life with luxury
That isn’t earned since they were born with it.
Well Excuse me for interrupting a serious topic
But wasn’t there a figure who promised
To build a machine where you throw a potato and get gold on other side of it?
Such a revolutionary idea isn’t it?
Such a great figure with masterclass tapestry
Even Victor Von Doom and Reed paused their fight to gnaw upon such mastery.
Okay back to the topic
Let me remember the times of brilliant dictatorship!
Time when roads were clean.
Homelessness wasn’t a thing.
Sorry, what? You said something?
You mean to say I said dictatorship?
No. I said leadership!
Yeah. That’s what I sai-
Oh! Sorry for the little slip!

Wait a **** minute.
Wasn’t that ‘cause the Poor folks were banned from sleeping
Near the area of regime!
Because it dropped down the housing stocks of the rich
They dropped down a ****** scheme!
I mean that’s understandable, coming from a bloating blob
You’d need a brain to perform a valid thought.

A Nuke of an order to clean the “****” with the machine.
Tragic how standards change
For one of them was the teacher
That taught the **** fool how to act pristine.
Now lost his job so slept near the Bungalow
Until things turn serene.
Now that same tutor is one of the many victims.

None with morality. Not a shred of goodness in them.
All money-hungry, power-driven, slaves of temptation—
Atrocious beings.

Yet we cave in when we are presented with a bunch of choices.
Just for favour or advantage from others.
We play the cards they predict!
And just like how the house always wins.
The circus starts once again.
It's not a party trick.
It’s not a magic trick.
Just a “figure of speech.”

Figures that, you’d speak.
Careful though or you may get the “Slip”.
                                                               — Asher Graves

Alien.

That’s all it takes.
Say it enough times—
with enough pride,
with enough certainty,
say it like it’s harmless—
and you start to believe it.
You convince yourself some people
don’t belong here.
That some lives weigh less.
That some suffering is acceptable.
And soon,
you forget they were ever people to begin with.

This is where it begins.
Not with camps.
Not with walls.
With words—
small, familiar, deadly.
Words that divide.
Words that erase.
Words that strip humanity away
layer by layer,
until you look at a person
and only see a problem.

And what happens next?
We dress it up.
We call it safety.
We call it policy.
We call it normal.

But let’s not pretend.

Alligator Alcatraz is not a policy.
It’s not a technicality.
It’s not safety.
It’s a concentration camp.
Built by people who learned nothing
from the blood their ancestors drowned in.

And I am from Germany.
I know this pattern.
I know how fast words become walls.
How quickly division becomes destruction.
How easily neighbors become strangers,
become threats,
become numbers.

We screamed it into history books—
Never again.
We tattooed it across generations.
We carved it into memorials.
We taught it in classrooms.
We promised.

But promises mean nothing
if we look away now.

It never starts with gas chambers.
It starts with small lines—
borders,
walls,
categories.
It starts with us and them.
When fear speaks louder.
When division feels safer than empathy.
When language poisons the foundation
before anyone notices.
It starts
when people feel so distant,
so different,
that hurting them feels justified.

And I’ll say it plainly—
You cannot be neutral while this happens.
You either fight—
or you help them build the fences.

Because it always ends the same way—
with camps,
with cages,
with bodies counted in hindsight,
and the world pretending
no one saw it coming.

But we do see it coming.
We see it now.
And if we refuse to speak,
if we refuse to fight—

history isn’t repeating itself.
We are repeating it.

News flows like wildfire, Reporters outside covering the case
Actuality is falsified, Justice as always late
                                                            ­          -Asher Graves

O People,
I have become your Sultan,
Break your idols after your misguidance,
And worship me...
I do not reveal myself always,
So sit upon the pavement of patience
Until you can behold me.

Leave your children without bread,
Abandon your women without husbands,
And follow me…
Praise God for His grace,
For He has sent me to write history,
And history cannot be written without me.

I am Joseph in beauty,
No golden hair like mine has God ever created,
No prophetic forehead like mine,
My eyes...
A forest of olive and almond trees,
So pray always that God may protect my eyes.

O People,
I am Majnun Layla,
So send me your wives to bear my seed,
And send your husbands to give me thanks.
It is an honor to eat the wheat of my flesh,
An honor to pluck my almonds and figs,
An honor to resemble me…
For I am an event unseen
For thousands of years.

O People,
I am the first, the most just, the most beautiful,
Among all rulers.
I am the full moon of darkness, the whiteness of jasmine,
I am the first inventor of the gallows,
And the best of the messengers.

Whenever I think of leaving power,
My conscience forbids me…
Who, then, shall rule after me these kind souls?
Who shall heal the lame, the leprous, the blind after me?
Who shall bring life to the bones of the dead?
Who shall draw the moonlight from his cloak?
Who shall send down the rain upon the people?

Who, tell me,
Will flog them ninety lashes?
Who, tell me,
Will crucify them upon the trees?
Who, tell me,
Will force them to live like cattle?
And die like cattle?

Whenever I think of leaving them,
My tears flow like a cloud,
And I put my trust in God…
And decide to ride upon the people
From now until the Day of Judgment.

O People,
I own you
Just as I own my horses and my slaves.
I walk upon you
As I walk upon the carpet of my palace.
So bow to me when I rise,
And bow to me when I sit.

Did I not find you one day
Between the pages of my ancestors?
Beware of reading any book,
For I read on your behalf.
Beware of writing any speech,
For I write on your behalf.
Beware of listening to Fairuz in secret,
For I know your intentions well.
Beware of reciting poetry before me,
For it is a cursed devil.
Beware of entering the grave without my permission,
For that is a great sin among us.

And keep silent when I speak,
For my words are a sacred Quran…

O People,
I am your Mahdi, so await me!
And my blood pulses in the heart of the vines,
So drink me.

Stop all the hymns that children sing
In love of the homeland,
For I have become the homeland...
I am the One, the Eternal,
Among all creatures.

I am stored in the memory of apples,
The flute, and the blue melodies.
Raise my portraits above the squares,
Cover me with clouds of words,
And marry me the youngest of brides…
For I do not age.

My body does not age,
My prisons do not age,
And the instruments of oppression in my kingdom do not age.

O People,
I am Al-Hajjaj; if I remove my mask, you will know me.
And I am Genghis Khan,
I have come to you with my spears, my dogs, and my prisons.
Do not resent my tyranny,
For I **** so that you do not **** me.
I hang so that you do not hang me.
I bury you in mass graves,
So that you do not bury me.

O People,
Buy me newspapers to write about me,
For they are displayed in the streets like prostitutes.
Buy me green, polished paper like the grasses of spring,
Ink, and printing presses.
Everything in our time is for sale,
Even fingers.

Buy me the fruit of thought,
And place it before me.
Cook me a poet,
And serve him among my dishes.

I am illiterate,
And I have a phobia of what poets say.
So buy me poets who sing my beauty,
And make me the star of all covers,
For dancers and actors
Are never more beautiful than I am.

Buy me all that cannot be bought
On this earth or in the sky.
Buy me
A forest of honey,
And a pound of women.

For with hard currency,
I purchase what I desire.
I buy Bashar ibn Burd’s poetry,
Al-Mutanabbi’s lips,
And Labid’s odes…

For the millions in the House of Muslims’ Wealth
Are an ancient inheritance of my father,
So take from my gold
And write in the great books
That my era…
Is the era of Harun al-Rashid…

O Masses of my land,
O masses of Arab nations,
I am a pure soul sent to cleanse you
Of the dust of ignorance.
Record my voice on tapes…
For my voice flows like a green fountain,
Like Andalusian melodies.

Capture me, smiling like the Mona Lisa,
Gentle as the face of Magdalene.
Capture me,
With my dignity, my grandeur,
And my military staff.

Capture me
As I sever the people’s necks like apples,
Capture me
As I hunt a deer or a gazelle.
Capture me
As I tear poetry apart with my teeth,
As I drink the blood of the alphabet.
Capture me
As I carry you upon my shoulders to the eternal abode!

O Masses of my land,
O masses of Arab nations,

O People,
I am responsible for your dreams, when you dream,
I am responsible for every loaf you eat,
And for the poetry
You read behind my back.

For the security apparatus in my palace
Informs me of the birds’ whispers,
And the secrets of the ears of wheat,
And of what happens inside the wombs of pregnant women.

O People,
I am your jailer, and I am your prisoner,
So forgive me.

I am the exiled one, within my own palace,
I see no sun, no stars, no flowers of oleander,
Since I came to power as a child,
And the circus men gather around me—
One blows a flute,
One beats a drum,
One polishes my boots,
One kisses my hands…

Since I came to power as a child,
No advisor has ever told me "No,"
No minister has ever dared to say "No,"
No ambassador has ever stood against me.

They have taught me to see myself as a god,
And to see the people, from my balcony, as dust.

So forgive me…
If I have turned into a new Hulagu,
I have never killed for the sake of killing,
I **** only to entertain myself.

I came on silver wings,
drifting past dying stars,
hoping to find a world soft enough
to call my own.

I saw blue first,
a planet breathing,
wrapped in mist and promise.
I thought, maybe here—
maybe here I could stay.

But then—
the silence of women swallowed whole,
voices drowned in laws not their own.
Skin held as a currency,
love twisted into a crime.
The ones in power, chosen by fear,
speak with empty mouths
and call it truth.

I watched men sharpen their edges
on the backs of women,
their laughter carving scars,
their hands taking without asking.

The food—
not food at all, but ghosts of what once was,
pumped with things that do not belong.
The trees fall,
not from time,
but from greed’s impatient hands.

And I wonder,
do they not see the world turning brittle?
Do they not hear the earth gasping?

I do not understand your wars,
your hunger for more,
the way you cage each other
and call it freedom.

I only feel it—
the ache of something wrong,
an unraveling, a sickness,
a grief I do not have a name for.

I did not come to be a witness
to a planet choosing its own end.
I came looking for home,
but this—
this is not a place to stay.

So I turn away,
silver wings catching starlight,
searching for a world
that remembers how to be kind.

Mirror mirror on the wall
Who will rise and who will fall?
Who will suggest?
Who will deride?
Who promises safety?
Who propagates lies?
Who lives for the people?
Who works for themselves?
Who lines their pockets?
Who's stocking the shelves?
Who keeps us informed?
Who knows what to do?
Who has the solutions?
Who prepared?
Who knew?
Who wonders?
Who marches?
Who decides what ensues?
Look! Who's coming to your rescue

Haunted by words
unsaid hope and fear unite
The future is not written
All but hidden in plain sight

Innocence welcomes winds of change
The calm before the storm
Reform, recourse, reaction
Everywhere
Uniform

New threat
New law
New normal
What's done now shall it remain?
Digital connection
Parroted refrain

Solutions from the experts
Make haste, emergency!
Only time can answer...
For the love of philanthropy

Close
Disclose
We distance
All for our safety
Report
Resort to witness
The price?
Sweet liberty

Oh! Mighty saviour on high
Prophetic Algorithmic eye
Who will prosper
Who will perish
Freedom
to live or die

Can it be that all around us
Greed and power tighten grip?
The band played on
Lest we forget
Down with the unsinkable ship

Mother earth how she is plundered
Controlled consumption now ensues
Vested interest
Turn a profit
Are you tempted to abuse?

Future still remains uncertain
So much joy in every day
Rite of passage
Right of movement
Withdraw
Stay home
Stay

Stronger now
For there are answers
To the questions you may seek
The truth
It won't come easy
Too weak
Too meek
To speak

words of reason
Oh so grateful
For the seeds lovingly sown
We know not what lies before us
Though examples clearly shown

Finding purpose in a passion
Create intention with an art
We all stand in time together
And we each will play our part

Sky has fallen on your head, Earth erupting has upended you into two, is it time for change yet?


Everyone knows the extinction's coming, racing towards US from our future,

Seen on the horizon, still, no talk of evolution, adapting to reality,

Not the worldly world of criminal insanity?  Non-republican caucasian

Newborns to men who are heterosexual are still neutered as newborns,

Mutilated as toddlers, kids, mass-*****, and every crime done against them

As kids and teens, yet the Roman Catholic Empire doesn't even acknowledge

Their inquisition against them, let alone slow it down, stop it.  How is

It that Pope Benedict (Arnold, the Rat...), the last inquisitor, hasn't

Been prosecuted in the ICC?  Just so you know, if "...we(e),..." don't

Uninstall RumputiN/vlad-the-impaler from the Blackhouse by 1-21-21, the

United **** of assassins is the new notsee Germany and since it's citizens

Haven't stopped it's Gov't, it must be destroyed at all costs, for life,

Humanity, the Earth, to even exist.  Is impeachment peachy keen now?

Do you feel like keeping it in the ground, abolishing fossil fuel use yet?