The city is melting in the screams
In the dead of night,
From thick skins to thin skins, 
So accustomed to fearful, bloodied scenes 

As you walk through or past 
blinking in the putrid smokes rising up like an atom explosion  
compelling you to gouge your eyes out 
or rip the flesh off your bones 
You're knocked out in a floundering hill of carcass 

I was there 
I was scared 

Unidentifiable in the crowd adorned with courage
As my people should be 
They targeted me anyway
Emptying the barrel of a dozen revolvers
Hundreds of black-clad Darth Vaders 
besieged my space once taken to be safe 

Gone are those days entrusting 'law and order'
unmasking itself as a little less human 
cutting innocent lives shorter and shorter 
learning that it's after all a shape-shifting demon 

"When I grow up I want to serve in the plice
Fools, you see what they want you to see 
A provocation or condemnation 
And they give you a taste of merciless damnation 

My people play no part in the conflict 
And yet. The demons in blue and green 
orchestrate and construct minefields to **** 
And yet. We don't plan to forfeit 

I say 'We' on behalf of journalists 
I say 'people' on behalf of journalists 
also happen to be People with Emotions 
Finding middle ground when the earth under your feet 
crumbles. Living in Commotion

Power-hungry bodies are dark voids during a war 
because money buys protection 
because status breeds greed 
Empowered bodies are overcome during a war 
because all they feel is pain and fury 
of measures shaking them to the burning core 

They fired shots after shots 
manhandling our right to exist 
Our weapon of choice is the pen
we'll show them
tyranny is so close to its end

At the gates of Petal City
Where the winds seem to whisper,
In tongues all too familiar
Knocking just behind your ears

Since the summer they've been louder,
Voices creeping into walls,
Making our sky darker,
And crying out a fog

Between their walls, in shrouded pain,
Defending with their folding shields
It's those who never kneel
For the bear king

They are the knights order
We dream we never have to be

Everything was so horrible
That words stood beside me and gaped
At a life so cruel.

I am writing my slogan,
Ploughing through the streets like a trojan
I’m going to march with my people
Go to church, climb it, protest from the steeple

I’m spray painting my face
For the sake of the human race
It is not to be taken lightly
I will not ask politely

The cause is not negotiable
To win, it must be emotional
My intentions are always pure
We know the symptoms, now for the cure

We fly the flags of hope
We’ve walked the slippery *****
We offer our point of view
Now it’s time for something new

Our mission is for change
It is well within our range
Over time it can be done
A change has to come

It’s so obvious to some
But a mystery to others
We all must overcome
And unite as brothers

Tell it to one and all who’ll listen
Pay no attention to any derision
Keep the world schooled in truth
Make the place better for our youth

Stiff necks turn your ears
To the approaching thunder
In the sanctuary walls,
A tremor in the civic flagstones,
Four million poster-board sentiments,
And twice as many young lungs.
They will be marching still,
When you can no longer
Answer those piercing eyes
Looking to your legacy,
Nor stand before the tender feet
Shaking the earth you leave them.

The sun is in her eyes as she glides
through the trees, her hair tangled
with ocean, and she is extraordinary.
Looking at her, I am stranded
in that musical way, only a leaf
floating on a wide, wide river.
She swims beneath.
Miles away, I hear the winds reciting
her name, and even in September, she is a summer
watching the rains appear, reappear,
birds flocking in confusion.
I close my eyes and line the pages
with constellations, see the stars murmuring
on her forehead. Gold glimmers
in front of her eyes, my eyes,
and I am no one, nowhere.

The building they lived in,
called home,
became their tomb,
became the weapon that broke
their bone,
took their lives.

But their stories have to
survive,
This City won't let you forget
about those
you were meant to protect.

I was actually looking for a room
but found myself
on the fiery streets
CRS batting the flames
as politicians took their seats,
business as usual
but the people stood in refusal
Feminists Familes and BlackBlok
Yellow Jackets Housing Groups
round the clock
only the holiday period
could douse the fires
and I went back to mother
the pressure smothered

How long is your attention?
Remember: this is a poem for the dead

For those who were crushed as they slept in their bed

Merry ******* Christmas
instead.