"allies" poems
My focus,
pays attention,
to the tension,
as I plays with your mind,
pulling on the cords between your legs,
playing game like Syman says;
the temptation building in your eyes,
I can sense it from a mile,
touching on your lips with my lips,
as our bodies form allies --
burying my fingers deep inside,
your opulence is my wine.
pleasuring your body with my mind,
using one finger at a time,
your mind wonders --
as the ****** climbs.
painting visions of pleasure,
tingling between your thighs,
force your mind to cross the line.
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
talkshows and the yellow press
get excited in excess
over his shenanigans
that delight his faithful fans
rumors of these *** affairs
strong words for all macho players
in the game of social thrones
texts with threatening undertones
for minorities and women
treating immigrants like demons
neither fans nor his opponents
seem to notice the components
of the white house strategy
throw them bones
fodder for the yellow press
and while they fight
clandestinely out of sight
works the Trumpian policy
money laundering blatant lies
scolding allies breaking ties
adoring foes praising those
usurpers of democracies
experts in atrocities
slowly yet persistently
undermine civility
with foul language
fill all courts with servile judges
court the aristocracies
of oil sheikdoms in the East
praising communist dictators
who have helped him build his towers
step by step he‘s leading US
from the groups of international powers
to an isolation desert
at the margins of the world
slogans we have rarely heard
over decades
now re-nourished
twittered with presidential flourish
make America small again
warning voices call in vain
no wonder the statue of liberty
is hiding her face in misery (*)
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
Too long this rot has run its course, too much the damage done
When men deflect acknowledged glance, they know that wrong has won.
Across this land and far afield the wrongness seeps within
And pride becomes a memory through distant halls of spin.
How can we bow to tyranny, how can we shy away
From that which causes eyes to slide.... and coaxes will to sway?
To tolerate the bombast, the bullying, the lies
Succumbing to a hopelessness, which, both we despise.
Division in the nation, uproar in between
A man and wife’s contention-ness beyond what should be seen
Brothers loathing brothers, silence in the room
Where a word uttered wrongly can erupt to screaming soon.
Allies left in tatters, trust is cut to shards
Tariffs injudiciously, imposed to **** the cards.
International uproar, industry in strife
Teetering disastrously when NATO flees the knife.
Putin sits and rubs his hands, hilarious the show
Disorder and disharmony to lubricate his glow.
Beijing sits inscrutably, always opportune
Manoeuvring judiciously, in place, to call the tune.
America, the isolate, sails away to sea
Blondini, at the helm, wears smirk indulgently.
M.
The White House
HAMILTON NZ
12th July 2018
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 2:17 AM UTC
*Today I shall get high on life.
To feel the energy of wind,
hear birds sweet song,
dance upon sacred Mother Earth.
Today I shall take the drug of life.
To be grateful for all that life brings.
shinning a light upon difficult
situations.
Today I shall move in my power
To feel connected to source energies
and all the invisible allies present
who come to my aid.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life
to align with higher self
moving with the grace of self.*
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 6:50 AM UTC
Ever since day 1 he was truly determined to play,
If I met him our friendship would never decay,
I once did volleyball myself whenI was younger,
Winning a single game won't satisfy his hunger,
I would run with him on that mountain every day,
I would see to it that he never feels grey,
I would want to be his greatest friend without drama,
But that spot has been taken by Kageyama,
They teach us how even enemies can become great allies,
Everyone of their games together are quite a surprise,
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 5:56 PM UTC
White powder on an iPhone case
Black coffee to mask the taste
Rolled bills against my face
Usually no one keeps pace
Sometimes I believe I've gone insane.
My allies made over a pile of *******
Veins burning awaiting more.
Eyes sore, but my feet seem to slide over the floor.
Heart pounding, nerves firing.
Tiring, not exhausting.
A workout for the burnout.
I have few hopes as to what I’ll turn out.
Only a mind away.
Numb, but alive.
I only feel what I'm prescribed
I’ll press on, needle to a record.
**** that.
I’m digital, my ideas, critical.
I’ll wake up each day with an eye for new breath.
I’ll keep moving forward, alone or in union, i’ve got a plan, and I’m gonna seek it.
Brick by brick, my world, I’ll build it.
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 9:31 PM UTC
I am her comfort
Her safe harbor and refuge when the storms batter her
I strengthen and reinforce
I polish and I smooth
After a time, back out into the world she goes
Storms are my allies
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC
How tenuous this grip we have, how slight our hold remains
When all around loud braggards boast that power now pertains,
We see the banner headlines splashed across our daily rags
And redneck demonstrations cleans the streets of Spics and ****
When blood runs in the gutter as the battons rise and fall
And whilst taking tea in style the filthy rich ignore it all.
The blonde leader of our nation struts, postulates and brags
While the rest of us skive off around the corner smoking ****
Our kids ingest confusion as they loiter on the street
Unknowing our delusions make illusions held, replete.
How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our hold remains
As our allies shower cold distrust convinced our fault inflames.
What chance of clear redemption, what remedies revive
When truth is lost to darkness can our honesty survive?
Reputation cut to shards, confidences ******
That leaders of community no longer hold our trust
When white is caste as black and then to green and then to grey
And sanity refuses pontification one more day.
How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our holds remain
As twilight turns to darkness caste against a larks’ refrain.
M.
The White House
HAMILTON, New Zealand
25 July 2018
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
Like a male monkey you rises up
And thumps hard your chest-it is you and you only!
O Man! You forgets, who you are and what you are is Nature’s
She generously gives and she avariciously takes-
Just a few chances she is giving you to repent before she ruthlessly returns
She is a sharp, doubled edged sword-merciful and merciless!
Man, Humanity is not hostility: Humanity is humility!
Like Sheol that is never satisfied you want to swallow the whole world
Like death you want to take everything, big-small-you want to stomach all
Everything you want to keep to yourself, to be to your entitlements
You take and leave nothing at all for the harmless hopeless-the voiceless
Yet you easily forgets, when the angel of death calls it’s only you and your soul in burials
Your ill amassed pride, wealth and health is not with you anywhere in this your brutal trials
Man, Humanity is not gullibility: Humanity is generosity!
O man! O man! You fills the whole world with mortality
You have killed the sole essence of the soul’s endless immortality
With your undignified dishonesty, your free-will to filthy immorality
War you begins wealthy to get-war is a supernormal profiting business
Man, Humanity souls has never been subjects to severity but sanctity!
Innocent-as little as little children-you murders-they were inevitable!
Common civilians’ deaths are collateral damages-inescapable!
You forgets who you are-you are a little loaned, little you returns for judgment
Here no allies to look after your backs, no cracks to corruption kickbacks-
It is the fairest of all hearings, a ***** for a ***** it is not for a big spoon!
Man, Humanity is not ignobility: Humanity is dignity!
What you are given to govern you governs not
What you are given to take care of you pilfers all
For you and your lineages eternal legacies-the richest ever to have graced the earth!
Yet you forgets, Master a little while returns to put you to a rigorous account
And whoever much is given-that much is also expected, what will be your report?
Man, Humanity is not royalty: Humanity is loyalty!
Humanity is a community, not a sorority of individuality!
Humanity is not infidelity: Humanity is honesty
Humanity is not how wealthy: Humanity is how a loyal legacy
Humanity is not how large is your multinationals entity:
Humanity is how huge is your small heart-its hospitality
Humanity is a humble history, a saintly story!
© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
When the heart is stilled,
and our eyes are blind.
When our limbs are lead,
and our hands are chained and numb.
Keep your eyes open,
Use the pain to stay alive.
Protect your Allies son,
protect them with your life.
Get them out of the dark,
and lead them into the light.
Protect your comrades son,
Protect them with your life.
* Even if only one of you can
leave this fiery Hell.*
If even only one of you survives
then a victory has been one!
For they cannot stop you child,
If together you stand and fight!
Fight for your rights my Child,
Fight to live your life!
Fight for what you believe in Son,
fight for what you know is right.
Defend your brothers and Sisters son,
protect what you hold most tight.
You know your lives are ending,
as you stand and fight.
But as you lay here dying,
You see him striding through the light.
He stands tall and strong now,
the Boy now a man,
Not a child in any's eyes,
Standing tall in the light.
With his Infantry behind him,
he blasted all enemies in sight.
When the others saw him they burst into tears,
For their arrival also washed away their fears.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 4:32 PM UTC
Allies become foes and friends turn away
Loyalties are questioned, only the honorable stay
And so begins the fight, to claim the right of power
While a child claims the crown, sitting atop his lofty tower
The Stag is said to rule the seven, but all is not what it may seem
The Lion fights the Wolf, while the Dragons ready their queen
The kingdom will bathe in blood, and it is under the light of the moon
That alliances are broken, or saved from the brink of ruin
“For the night is dark, and full of terrors”
These new gods shake faith in the old with tremors
Winter is coming, it can be felt in the bones
But before it reaches, who will win this Game of Thrones?
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
I have been gone for a long time
Too long for me to count
But I've been gone doing some thinking
Remembering what my mentor once said
"you know what
Forget this!
Grab hearts with your fist"
So I left the stage
Went into hiding
And grabbed my heart with an open fist
See, Mad Max was nothing
Mus was nothing
Zero is definitely nothing
So why would I call myself any of these names?
Because Mustafa wanted to give them something
Mustafa wanted to give them meaning
But they tried to take over
So I left the scene
And thought about my mentor
"You know what
Forget this"
I knew I had to forget the past
Move my *** forward
And show everyone that Mustafa is back
Back on the center of the stage
Ready to read what I wrote
Speak what I know
Express my feelings and emotions
Unlike those masks
Trying to make me a missing link
In this exhausted world
"Grab hearts with your fist"
I can't help but keep remembering this one line
The line that helped me go beyond what I originally did
And gave me life beyond attempted ******
I mean life beyond a depressed lifestyle
I know where I am now
Why I'm back now
Because of that line
My mentor
My friend
My allies
Mustafa has made a return to the stage
Ready to speak against myself
No ready to speak for the future
NO!
Ready to speak...
For a new change and a new start
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
In school I never understood
No, I never could
what the point of it was.
What is the point?
I learned about math and science;
Good God, why am I so defiant?
So call me lazy.
Tell me my IQ is below average.
Well here's an image:
I'm actually smart I just hate
being a slave
to the system.
I almost missed 'em.
But they caught me
and now they got me
and all that I intended to defend
is left on the side of the street.
I'm rebelling
while they're trying to compel me
to stay put in my seat
like a ******* robot.
Well, I will not.
I gotta break outta this prison
but where's my bailsman?
This is my decision
and I've chosen
not to be broken.
My mind will escape unscathed
while yours will continue to be lathed
by those mechanical words
that they feed to you like birds.
And what's worse:
Is that you eat it.
You accept them.
You swallow down that indiscretion.
What a burden
but I don't feel sorry
for you tainted mind
because you chose it
when I warned you
that they'd change you.
And now you've become a slave to their holocaust
and you're so lost.
You can't even think your own thoughts.
It's despicable.
And it's not permissible.
You're stuck in their Utopia
and you're praising their allah.
Well God knows, it's not right.
So you gotta ignite
all your original thoughts and morals
cause honey they aren't your idols.
They are so pretentious
and utterly blinded.
Stuck under their bibles
but they aren't angels.
Break free from the system
come join my anthem.
Let's start a rally
and get more allies.
Join me in my plea
to be all that we can be.
To stand for what we choose.
I promise we will not loose.
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 3:49 PM UTC
this is for the queer kids
who are taught their ABC's
but not their L's, G's, B's and T's
for the Russian government and the I.O.C
who deny Russian queers their visibility
to the people who call me ******
i wear your name-calling like a pink triangle
stitched to my sleeve
for the Harvey Milk's, the Christine Burns'
and every queer in between
to the allies who do more than say
"your sexuality is okay with me"
for the Jamaican trans* teen
who was murdered needlessly
to the television networks
who portray LGBT individuals positively
for the radical queers
the POC queers
the genderqueers
the queers who have felt excluded
this is for you
for us
this is a celebration
and an ultimatum
we are here
we are queer
& we will do more
than survive.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 10:42 AM UTC
#Mr. Piano Man how your
fingers rain down on the keys
dancing a somber ballet
capturing the feeling of being empty
like those bottles underneath
Here Mr. Piano Man
the next drink is on me
while we sift through debris
of our melancholy
Every note stings
every chord bleeds
woe is you
and
woe is me
play
Mr. Piano Man
a song to our ennui
Let it rain Mr. Piano Man
let the storm hammer the strings
lets swim in the puddle
of whats spilt underneath
Oh Mr. Piano Man
What is that I hear?
That note that was just hit
it sounded rather queer
there is no room for happiness
at the bottom of this beer
No! NO! Mr. Piano Man
I don't want the sun
go back to stormy waters
to where you had begun
I thought you a friend
I thought we allies
I thought we understood
the sounds of demise
Mr. Piano Man how you so betrayed
with your songs of love and spring
every note my heart aches
every chord a bee sting
Mr. Piano Man this is my goodbye
I am leaving you now
please don't cry
I am going to my new friend
Mr. Bartender
How do you do?
Give me an endless bottle
and another drunk to talk to.
#
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 3:07 PM UTC
Scrapers will no longer scrape.
Fighters soon to lose the short fight.
Pilots are forced to surrender control.
Snakes on a plane will bank into a roll,
a scene that really no longer is scenic.
Leaders still read while getting a scare.
Huge landmarks that I swear were once there,
bridges in shortage are counting the tolls.
Dust that eventually will never be settled,
liquid support that used to be metal,
big bad crude that never was good—
things impossible suddenly could.
Answers quickly try to be drummed.
Future conflicts guaranteed to be won,
particles blocking our UV death sun,
days become decades and turkey is done.
Brave individuals are no longer bold.
Families’ histories are quite often told,
a baby’s bottle empty with no one to hold.
Government figures tilted but somehow sold
parades in protest with a circus in town.
A tiger got out, but why can’t he growl?
Seems that the cat’s got somebody’s tongue.
Another channel covers son after son,
numbers mounting, but not the right ones.
Cabbies still nose their thumb after thumb,
training centers destroyed one after one.
We should’ve just played “Drop the **** bomb!”
Fear is good, and of course good is feared;
it’s the only thing that drives us way over here.
Just like the Bible, it’s mostly made up.
The supersonic jet has just hit a rut.
The dirtiest of bombs versus our Smith and Wesson.
“Come on gang, why would you even question?”
Like death and taxes—there’s none that’s more sure,
but then there’s the free upcoming history lesson.
“Ain’t gonna do it” acting just like his pop.
This rancher really means it when tossing the slop.
“Still can’t find him—he’s with boys in Brazil.”
What’ve they done lately to lighten the till?
It’s time for the Allies to storm up this hill.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Poppy walked the streets by day
she cried in the allies at night
she's still a kind and generous lady
who through circumstance had lost the fight
The vacant look in her eyes
dirt on her face that some despise
but if you gave her the time of day
wise words she would always say
People call her a down and out
but that's not what she's about
for from the front she had come
and no more would she hold a gun
She is a forgotten hero
and now she's a zero
she keeps her medals in her pocket
in a tissue next to her false teeth
One of the many now forgotten
one who's life now is rotten
this is Poppy the hero
this is one of the forgotten
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
© 2011 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
leave to remain
stay to move on
tear down to build
some space to call home
make new reminders
keep a fresh store
full of faint memories
with room for much more
drink to old allies
drink to forget
laugh with new friends
shake off your regret
this is tomorrow
a brand new today
this is fresh start
you're welcome to stay
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 4:58 PM UTC
My world is full of bright blue skies,
flowers, rabbits, butterflies,
giant mountains, ancient trees,
lands of green and golden seas.
In my world, tears are waterfalls,
and happiness can shatter walls,
anger, the greatest adversity,
while fear defines reality.
In my world, truth is in disguise,
More often, truth transforms to lies,
which i suddenly regard as true,
can red transform if you believe it's blue?
In my world, I see in black and white,
things are either all wrong, or all right,
inbetween is undefined,
and any other veiw is blind.
In my world, words can fragment lives,
and allies wield imaginary knives,
the wounds they cause will never heal,
but pain is vital if you want to feel.
In my world, seasons are hours long,
But still the seasons are just as strong,
From rain to snow, darkness to shine,
Changing with no warning sign.
My world is as beautiful as hideous,
As honest as insidious,
My world is as ambiguous as clear,
and just as gentle as austere.
But my world exists inside my head,
Where your feet will never tread,
And so you can not understand
To you this is my fantasy land.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC
1443
A chilly Peace infests the Grass
The Sun respectful lies—
Not any Trance of industry
These shadows scrutinize—
Whose Allies go no more astray
For service or for Glee—
But all mankind deliver here
From whatsoever sea—
3.8k
you listen to what passes for the TV news
you read some
but not all
of social media views
you notice that
despite all internationalism
it‘s mostly old sensationalism
combined with more or less suggestive speculations about
how many people may have died in forest fires
to what imaginable depths the president aspires
whether the North Koreans have more rockets
despite the wonderful achievements
of the national superdealer
who of the leader‘s staff might be the next
to lose her job or his credentials
etc. etc.
in short
the world has mostly shrunk
to domestic politics and power games
plus a few places on the globe where
U.S. soldiers still are dying
in order to protect their country‘s interests
in oil, assorted mineral resources
or allies of political expedience
or a few thousand refugees from countries plagued
by persecution or dictators are
marching for weeks to claim asylum
in the home of the brave and the free
under the statue of liberty
only to discover that they are seen
as an invasion threatening
that blesséd city upon a hill
visions have grown smaller
more petty voices dominate the talk
a nation made of immigrants
faced with the poor who flee from their oppressors
decides to close its borders to the immigrants‘ next wave
oblivious of the times when they themselves
still searching for a better life
found a new place where they felt safe
led by the statue‘s torch that shone its light
upon a poet‘s words of welcome:
"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 11:36 AM UTC
It is early.
and the world hangs silent, but the birds chirping their chime,
An angelic choir of vibratos
And tenor beaks
humming sweet
to the early tangerine crest of sun
slivers a powerful bar of light over the peaks
to a newly brilliant horizon.
Sweeping the dredges of darkness away
as the stars fade
like coal dust
back again, packed into their cupboard of night
one by one,
lanterns snuffed and sent
into the vibrating blue
as if the whole sky should erupt into fire
azure, hallowed morning pyre
Encircled by the gradient hues
of coral pink and castille yellow
Mediterranean teal
A symphonic
cacophonic
**** of birth
Good Day, Sweet mother earth.
Squeezed through the valleys
canals
allies
every nook and forlorn cranny
kissed with her blissful photonic army
And the infantile creatures cry with glee.
The dewdrops clutch the blades
the tender palasade
of petals
remembering their darkened escapades
slipping tender rain
to feed the dirt,
the lonely detritus
elixirs of the lovely night.
And the world bursts into a veritable
kaleidoscope of life
With a trillion pairs of eyes
accessing the mother dream
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 2:48 AM UTC
At Nineteen,
I bore witness to the live Birth of my Son.
He was adopted out via Open Adoption
to a very nice Family a few Hours away in Ukiah.
I'm still in contact with them, I get pictures every six Months
and I'm very happy to also be able to see Him every so many Months.
At Twenty,
I lost my Father. I found him on the floor and called 911. I paid for his Cremation the next day.
It was what he told me he wanted; his ashes are in a box in my room.
Perhaps even moreso than he was my "Father", he was by best Friend;
for better and for worse.
At Twenty-One;
my Girlfriend of Five Years, who was also Mother of the aforementioned Child, and I
broke up on Friendly terms. Now she lives about 200 miles away.
We're still cordial, and I'm glad we still speak.
Eternal Allies are rare to come by,
to say the least.
So far, Twenety-Two has been rather turbulently eventful, as well.
Between Family and their lack, personal choices and relationships,
and the furtherment of my Self as well as my expressive Capacities,
it's been a hell of a Twenty-Two so far,
to say the least.
All of these things leave me with an Understanding
that I cannot ever judge anyone, for I know not of their struggles
and that no One can ever truly judge anyone else,
for the same reason.
Through all of this, I feel evermore
that this Life is ******* great,
and that's no sarcastic remark:
Life
is a trippy and tumultuous Journey
and I'm thankful for this opportunity
to experience this Holiest of Realities, to say the least;
though it is a Lesson in Humility, to say the least.
And thus:
Thank you for reading my writings.
Thank you for taking time out to read what I have to bring forth.
Thank you for existing and expressing.
Blessings upon thy Paths;
wheresoever you've been
wheresoever you're going
thank you just for Being.
Please be your Self; you owe it to your Self,
for that is all you ever have, to say the least,
and so, once more:
Blessings upon thy Path.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
You ran
I ran
Faster than light,
Invisible to the keenest human eye
We ran towards the safest haven.
Almost giddy with excitement
Heart fluttering on the
Delicate wings of ecstatic butterflies
Forsaking everything behind
Just you and me
We zoomed by,
Humans and objects,
All just a mélange of colors
Hallways went by
In the blink of an eye
Not yours or mine
Just the shrewdest eye
Voices called out to us
Allies raring to join
Teachers frantic to stop
Corridors vast enough to dissolve into
Stop, came after a long, lingering voyage
Breathing in short abundant pants
We beheld the eye of each other
And in that moment
I realized we were more than partners in crime
We were, you and me
Two friends destined to be
In each other’s memory
Forever
And
Ever
And ever.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
They are silent and beautiful,
gorgeous in in the white halo,
cemented in a beautiful terrazzo,
baring the names of fallen soldiers,
the European soldiers that fell in Wars;
second and first and the heinous silent wars,
i hope this is why they have a proverb; white sepulchre,
only baring the white dead, only chiefs but no dead Indian.
Common wealth graveyards are all over in Africa,
in India , panama , Latin America and europe,
the active fronts in which the allies fought ******
they are beautifully placed in silently posh areas,
in langata when in Nairobi, in Mbaraki when in Mombasa,
in Matisi when in Kenya, In Namusungui when in Lodwar,
They bear horizontal silence with white names engraved
on their beautiful face shouting the glory of European empires,
which provoked the evil sense in the heart of the king's horseman
in Kenya, in the city of Nairobi, to steal the graveyard lands,
he made them his urban home with an uppish courtyard,
for him the dead white neighbours are better than in-corruption.
I walk around the commonwealth graveyards,
in the all quarters of erstwhile British empire,
looking for the names of African soldiers ,
who died in thousands fighting for the queen
the royal bloodied woman of England;Elizabeth,
Looking for the sons of Ethiopia who stood with
the second duce Benito son of Mussolini,
fighting for Hitler,for Shintos in the European war,
i have seen no name of any African,
I have not seen Wandabwa wa masibo,
who was conscripted into the first world war,
Along with his father Biket wa Khayongo,
Biket back after seven years in 1918,
carrying Wandabwa's Belt,
Wandabwa died in the field,
Where was he buried, he is nowhere
Not anywhere among the soldiers in cemeteries,
I have not seen Nasong'o wa Khayongo,
who was conscripted in 1940,
to fight against ******
he was conscripted on his nuptial evening,
even before he had had the first ***
with his new wife, he went away crying,
he never came back, his name is nowhere in the graves
the commonwealth graves that bare names of the fallen,
Fallen soldiers, but they all bare white names in the black world.
you come to Africa, Kenya, Nigeria, Malagasy,Egypt,
whatever the geographies of Africa, and you keep keen,
you hear someone is called Mr. Keya, or Madam Keya,
or you come to Bungoma county of Kenya,
you meet a man that is of the circumcision age group,
Known as Bakikwameti Keya, Bakinyikewi Musolini,
Keya is subverted sound for Kings african rivals; KAR
the African sound for KAR is Keya,
in reference to mass conscription of Africans
into the KAR, to fight ******
A child born during that time is Keya,
A man circumcised during the time
is in the age group of Keya,
A simple lesson in regard to our people,
taken away to fight the colonial power
and left to died and rot away in the bush
with a simple courtesy for ceremonial burial,
that come along with the death of soldiers,
who passed away in the battle field.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 4:13 AM UTC