My soul has started a rebellion
Against all the things I know
Because I laid eyes on you
My heart was dormant for ages
Now every fiber in my body
Rages inside until I lose myself
And decide to never live without you

Severing fingernails, so to, chopped the
toe’s, ate some berries and snuck in a nip
or two. I assert myself, “this drink’s if only
to steal, or seal one last scream,” but,
“decadent’s,” quiet for once; A calm
christened, “collateral,” the parallel plight
and pale ear nigh, if only doors down.

Left to my own devices, I’d imagined
every bad, “thing,” and how they’d
happen; Exact and unlike random
aneurism. So I checked on the plants one
last time. I checked on the only flower,
once again, if only doors down, and one
last time. I abide impatient and remain to
question eternity; This twiddling of thumbs
and silent sliver of sun peeking upon one
and opposing, my alien, “East,” –

I long for my only, “West,” and if only
home, but its love, the other love that locks
my only gate.

And with that I’d lay awake and be, a
guarantee, malcontent, remnant come only
one reminder; A twitch under my right eye
and promised son but days later. So
continued my sequence, my defiance, my
only anything; Come one, “Oh!” and two,
yawped not for Walt, but for me,
“Onward!” awake and in an awkward
avoidance of complacent.

Ensued, were the acts of rebellion, the acts
of life, the acts of desperation in the face of
an already dead incarnation. One day to be
labeled, my suicide, at ends wrought
insurrection and beneath the twin flags,
insomnia added anticipation – Perhaps my
last, should the wolves cull come the hours
next when beds are made, supper’s sooner
cold and once more, the stars are allowed to
sing for someone, for something, else.

here is something they do not teach
in school, that is why
    Juaniyo put a bandana around his head
in red and like a sturdy kalasag, he raised
    his hand high, championing all —
nobody shall strike this country with
    impunity.

Juaniyo was an anarchist — a decibel in the  voice of this nation, standing strong
   for the deprived, the voiceless,
    the pithless. this was inscrutable force
       awakened — they did not teach this
  in school. they taught us that we'd
    be winners, hotshots,
millionaires, tycoons, dogs and slaves to
    capitalists — this total equation
  they didn't tell us together with the
   suicides and the extra-judicial killings,
the limp democracy of the state,
     summary executions, the displaced
groups, shelterless mothers with children
   suckling their ******* while seeking
alms, the downfall of all economies

for Juaniyo, a hurled rock is the imperative as a thick wall of alloy
   and fiber glass drive him to the edge
of the street where somewhere in the periphery, a bombardier of water is waiting with a steady aim;

      they did not want their powers
challenged, they did not find it appealing that their oppressive authoritarian stance
    is put to the test and is at the verge
of being dismantled to be replaced by
   freer, egalitarian structures.

   Juaniyo leaves the class in total pursuit,
  heeds the call of heartland.

Many people have been told to do the Catwalk and they do it,
but many have rebelled and chose to do the Dogwalk.

Cherry blood is always good, because it's dark and it means no artery was hit. You're still alive. You're living. That's why I sometimes don't understand the big fuss my principal made when I took off the sweatband on my wrist. Or maybe it was the vice principal. Either way, the school counselor was called in, and so were my parents. Looks of shock. Confusion. Why? They all asked. But I had no reasonable answer. I was young and innocent -- a feeling I'd love to regain, but at the time, I wanted the opposite. Maybe I did it for the excitement; the thrill. Some said I was just "a troubled child"; it will pass. Others said I was "disturbed" or "depressed". But these are just words. I know what I was. I wanted the attention; I wanted to get caught, until it actually happened. After my mom paid a psychiatrist $350 three different times, I told her I was okay; I stopped doing it; Please don't make me go back. And she never made me go back. And I never did it again.

Feeling at this time, that I should really go to bed, but
Still I lay awake, and contemplate, what Fred Hampton said:
“If you dare to struggle, then you dare to win, if you dare
Not to Struggle, then you don't deserve to win.”
They shot him dead in his bed, tell me how long has it been?
10, 20, nearly 50 years, since the things that happened then,
What happened to the Panthers, Malcolm X and Dr. King, or
The Anarchists in Spain, the songs of victory they'd sing?
What happened to the world of struggle, in which they all used to live?
Where liberation's sweet embrace propelled the efforts they would give
You see, we need to put the ‘unity’ back into ‘community,’ and
That begins with you and me, living side by side, and
Working with each other, taking measures to deride, the
Ills of our condition that serve only to divide,
Those old notions of race, those old notions of gender, with
Raised fists, as we march, taking heed to engender,
A whole new way of life, and a vision to render,
Filled with class consciousness, making us a contender,
Maybe I could lie down, and I could find some rest now,
If we would only stop to realize that we're the real ‘how.’

"we were brave,

                        for all the wrong reasons"

Learn to recognize lies, while they stand at
Their podiums, and proselytize,
Like so many Sunday preachers,
You can see it in their eyes, and
Their shifty ****** features, though
Their words seem sincere,
Their subtle cues, serve as
Teachers of their inner intent, so
Don't forget your diligence, and
Let them **** your dissent, with
Empty promises and rhetoric, to
Fill your head with lies about,
How war is for the betterment, of
Nations abroad, the sentiment
Is laughable, the premise is a fraud.
Cause when it all boils down, and
When push comes to shove,
Democracy has grass roots, it's
Not imposed from above, and
At the end of the day, money is
The factor prime, it's the secret
Justifier for this terroristic crime,
First, they bombed Iraqi cities,
In a trial of "Shock and Awe"
That killed even more civilians,
Than what 9/11 saw, and
Once the cities were demolished,
Halliburton then rebuilt them, and
Reaped enormous profits,
To the tune of 40 billion, and
Among other things, in this
"Just" war's spoils, were
The underground oceans,
Flowing full of crude oil, and
We all fund these atrocities,
These lies, these hypocrisies, well
If you decide this ain't the type,
Of thing that you can stand for,
Write "exempt" on line 7, of your W-4

I want to bask in your presence,
and revel in your smile,
meditate in your peacefulness,
and sing with you a while.

I want to share with you your glories,
and weep with you your fails,
praise you in your Heaven,
and suffer with you in your Hell.

I want to observe you in your spotlight,
and draw the curtains when you're not,
Be your sidekick in your rebellion,
and lie for you when you're caught.

I'll greet you in the morning light,
with my blurred line of wants and needs,
If the Universe grants my wish,
so begins the journey of you and me.

All of their parents are afraid
Not wanting their children to be like me
I know, I’m a bad influence, I’m mean
But at least my fun doesn’t seem to fade

a.v.