Many are hamster-wheel humans
So punch-drunk from assuming
They know the way things work.
The wealthy urged them to elect jerks
To run this country into the ground
And turn it into the worst place around.
It’s a sad tale, a ***** of a story
Where those with guts, don’t get glory.

It’s a horror story, like in scary flicks
Where when men in suits get their kicks
Imprisoning brown people and kids
And laughing about the bad they did.
Afterward, they say others are to blame
But make no attempt to hide their game.
They put thousands in jail and charge them
And sing out loud their lying anthems.

They say fake news is the real McCoy
But, the real news they say is a ploy
Honest people want to stop the plunder
That, up ’til now, they kept hidden under.
But now it’s in the open meant to appease
Ignorant white people that are hard to please.
They want whites in power, think that’s nifty,
No wonder they elect only those who are shifty.

Too many quit learning in school, after ABC,
And they have no use for the land of the free.
They liked how it was in eighteen hundreds
With slaves, inhumanity to those they plundered.
They got up in arms when a black man won
And the class war was once again begun.
The very rich told lies to change the rules
People began to act openly like rapacious fools.
This is the country of which we were once proud.
It’s right now being destroyed by the elite crowd.

You look like a wolf
in sheep’s clothing

And yet, you say you
are the dragon

Yet, you make us believe
in your story

You breathe no fire

You only wanted the
castle walls
to protect you
from our glances

If you had opened up
Put away your wolf hide

All could see
how lonely you are

And how wrong our story is

---------------------------------------------------------
Ann­e H. Bakke  |  02:09  @   29.05.2016

Black and white.
What’s the difference?
One is darker? Lighter?
One looks deep, the other looks pure?
I see nothing.

Male and female.
What’s the difference?
One is smaller? Bigger?
One is more shy? More outspoken?
There, again! Do you see it?

14 and 18.
What now?
One is greater? The other smaller?
Both are even, what is wrong?
What you are is wrong.

On our terms, through our eyes,
For us to realise
The gorilla on camera,
Signalling and signing the scripted message, knows not what she speaks,
But anticipates the treats.
We see not the eyes, if the tongue is not in our ears.
As a result, they let loose their
scythes
on the wide-eyed plants in Oz before the 1960s.
They believed the pottery were their own lost property,
Until they realised the kilns were the same in Bechuanaland.
Someday, such museum specimens, can be translated.
Allowing our selfish eyes,
To X-ray through such veils.

I would never wish it on anyone,
But I ache to see through your eyes
The person who smiles
In the age of the internet’s pythonesque wonderland,
Seeing the joke of the world, but remaining in hysterics.
In the corner of the class,
I get hints of this friends other side,
An impossible voyage for all foreigners there.

To see tinted in such pain
Just to try and understand,
To somehow
help.

I'm not prejudice
to the weather, but if it's
white I'll stay inside

“When ignorance is bliss,
Tis folly to be wise”.

I’m a fascist,
Whenever, I can’t make up my mind.
I’m a fascist,
Whenever, I anger those around me.
I’m a fascist,
Whenever, I mumble and my thoughts aren’t heard
I’m a fascist,
Whenever, smiling faces are
disconnected.
I’m a fascist,
Whenever, I memorise another useless number but not the answer to the sum.
I’m a firing squad leader,
Whenever, I see the slobbering Spastics.
I’m a firing squad leader,
Whenever, I read the slobbering spastics minds and I’m millions.

I see it,
Through the same alien eyes,
But I feel
no sympathy.
I would gladly command the firing squad,
Upon those who don’t have to exist,
I would leave my own child to the wolves if it were such.
So I could smile,
In my solo fish tank,
But without seeing my reflection in the glass.

I beg you,
Lend me no book,
Make it, instead, a log,
To keep the fire warm.

When I close my eyes, it's like stepping into a whole new world. White flecks in the darkness flash green and blue, the blackness bleeds red and I feel the sun warming denim. It makes me feel as though I'm at a standstill. Like this is a dream, a form of aesthetic that isn't quite my flavor and I have no place but an intrusion.

I hear wind chimes in the far distance, like a sparkle made up of sound waves and I suddenly wonder if the neighbors down the street are feeling this way as well. Or if it's just a fantasy, if this world is just a daydream away and we're the blurred figures we never remember but always see, like how people from dreams are real life people you've seen before. I like to imagine ourselves as those people, forgotten but lingering in the mind of whoever is staring down at us, if there is one anyway.

I find it easy to breathe: no weight down my chest or numbness crawling up my esophagus. My leg is swinging, my eyes are scanning and I should be enjoying this day like a normal person should.

But I'm not. Not because my heart is slowing down or that my mind is pulling me apart but because I know that whatever I do there is a filter that blocks me. Because even if I act happy and normal there's still a screen between us, made up of stigma and prejudice. Because I'm me.

I hear a baby's cry, ebbing into laughter and I wonder if I can be that innocent, that happy again. If I can be content with my life.

I smile sadly. "No."

Some walk the line
Between a woman and a man.
If god got a do-over
Would he do the same again?
Or would some afterthought
Bring about a badly needed change
That causes confusion
So some use the epithet “strange”?

How do people so often ignore
The amazing leaders and creators,
Proof they’ve been shown before
That different people can be world beaters.
People have cheered for decades
Those strong women who compete in sports.
For centuries men of feminine type
Felt they’ve needed to sink to life’s last resorts.

For no reason that makes sense
Parents have dealt unremitting hate to their kids.
Some of them take it personally
As if it is the result of something evil they did.
Demands were made unthinkingly
To change they way they had to behave
And too often the orders came from
The unsuccessful directives of “Jesus Saves”.

So here they are, suffering daily
The children who live as god made them
And society, for no good reason
Chooses to call them names and evade them.
There is nothing wrong with them
These beautiful people living on the line
Who act and live their lovely lives
The way nature has defined.