They protect us 4m harassment
They saved us 4m abashment
They Clemented all types of bright
So we led a peachful night
They unescorted their family
So we chaperoned our ancestry
They uglify their life
So we glamorize our entity
They feed upon corpses
So we have sustenance
They gave up all their life
For the sake of the nation
They were caught,penalized, exploited,deprived, starved
At last they died
A salute to all those majestic soul...

I just want to ask one question
Is the human race obeying the mathematical rule called BODMAS?
Just a refresher...  
Brackets, Orders, Division, Multiplication, Addition and Subtraction

We have created different brackets
where we enclose people like casket
He's black, she's white, they are rich,
those are poor, she's educated, he's religious, he's fat, she's slim... Brackets

People are treated differently
Based on the class that we've put them in
Some are raised to power like exponents
Others are trapped in like square roots...Orders

The segregation has only intensified our division
I don't fit in here, I belong over there
My group is stronger, those ones are losers... Division

Disunity and absence of love has caused
A multiplication of our problems
Threats, deportation, persecution
We don't like them, we'll bomb them
War, insurgency, terrorism, hate speech... Just problems Multiplication

Every second, our population is experiencing several additions
Our population keeps growing while
Our natural resources are being exploited
And depleting at a rate faster than our population growth
Our resources are experiencing severe subtractions

I just want to ask one more time...
Aren't we obeying BODMAS?

guess what?
you can't lie to my best friend
you can't tell her
that so-and-so sent you that
( frickin ****'s )
picture
(funny how you saved it)
you can't rope her back in with your
manipulation
,your
modification
of the truth,
and you can't buy me with your
half-assed excuses and you can't tell me that it's
none of my business
because you've exploited her
and you've lied to her
don't mean
that you've earned her.
she deserves better and you deserve
to be alone forever
with your self-pity
and your short-sighted
under-the-table
pathetic
selfish
actions.

guess what?
you can't tell me she has a choice
when you've given her none
telling her
she's the best things in your life
(how 'bout you treat her like it?)
and by the way
can i have a picture of you
( insert thing she's not going to do for you
here )
and there's a reason
you filthy
lying
cop-out of a human being
i won't hear you
tell me that
she's
chosen you
that she's
happy with you
because
if she's happy with you
how come
you still have to
spend so much time trying
to
convince her?

guess what?
i don't buy you.
i hate you.
i resent you.
you make me
sick.
and even if she doesn't see it
even if she holds onto your pathetic
whining
excuses
i see through you
you bile-throated liar
and you don't ******* deserve
one single tear
you've pulled from her,
you don't ******* deserve
the dirt on her Converse,
you don't ******* deserve
this poem.

because it makes you seem
almost like
you're worth something.

She's a wildflower
     A daisy in the chaos of the ironic forest preserve

Where they tear down trees
     For new parking lots
     Seriously.

Looking pretty among the mayhem
     Her mind

I'm thinking there's self-destruction about her
     Or she used to
    
Something I can muse too

Did I say too much?
     I'm just as broken
     tearing me inside out exploited
    
But she'd rather favor vivisections
     To rid her of her soul's infection

Her body
Her weapon
Her choice

Horizontally
Up and down
Her arms

Raised up
like she's giving up
     Or she wants me to take her shirt off
     Both are the same

She bows down to me
     reaches for my belt
     and asks me to save her

"Darling, it's your story.
Only you can save yourself.
All I can so is support you in the fight.
and remind you,
it's not done."

you look so much ******' prettier with that **** in your mouth,
funnier, cuter, smarter while you're chuggin' 'em down,
"flirtatious and irresistible, everyone wants you around",
******' hangover princess, here, we bought you a crown.
lie after lie, truth swirling around in the toilet,
begging for his affection, on your knees and exploited,
stripped of your dignity then try to say you enjoyed it?
that's funny, the **** you talk the next day proves all that's *******.
was nice and respectful, of course you thought that was swell,
loved you for you but you didn't want my help,
tried to do to me what you ******' did to yourself,
i'm over it, we're not friends, *******, go to hell.

We came from the forever sea then we walk the land and after certain days we are again called
To The sea as the natural sea it is vast its waves its ceiling dazzle the eternal structure pulsates
Mesopotamia encompasses the land between the Euphrates and the Tigris rivers that again
Depicts life it rests between all powerful rivers these natural rivers have their head waters in
The mountains of Armenia in modern day Turkey our head waters are in the ancient spiritual
Dwelling of all power and glory we don’t live in yesterday or tomorrow we live in the moment
These special moments when we embrace touch cheek to cheek this releases waves of love and
Emotions I live then as no other time the faraway doe’s crash on our minds as great water from
A powerful waterfall we feel delirium our knees weaken we press hard against one another
Forcing more exhilaration we draw back and look into one another’s eyes we are subdued by
The beauty we behold with abandonment we plunge into these deep waters created by the
Special and completeness of one another it contains a slow swaying an engaging wonder
Develops its boundaries are from your head to your feet I touch your hair it is finer than silk my
Fingers tremble my voice is filled with exaltation golden words flow paying you homage they
Course through a heart filled with love at that moment I am capable of feats of expression
Drawn from my lips by the truth you seek silently I am attuned to the depths of your soul
Without voice you make demands that I know only in dreams and the essence of cherished
Thoughts explode over head true riches that can’t be exploited hear my cry hear my sigh it all
Bleeds together I stand before you I put my hands to my face I speak and **** frost appears I
Kneel I ring your feet with it as a garland where your heart goes my whole being follows
Yearning to be close what is life without you in my eyes you are dressed with crest and plume
Of sea birds exotic the beauty of sun and water hold you transform you into a vision that is
Mine alone your soul is as chimes that bear the sounds of angel wings all the glory that they
Brush against music divine holy utterance makes my mind go blank you stand silent not
Disturbing this awe filled space it all leads to a kiss it’s not just the pressing of two lips its hopes
Robed in bliss you have a treasure the last steps is only to surrender let go of all fixed points
Immerse your all to one another in this act you have mastered life and all questions I thank you
And I am beholden to you with my whole heart if I see the day that your life is at its end and it is
Poured out back into the overriding sea my heart will always wonder the sea shore its
Completeness disallows total destruction I cling to those moments and they will rise like
Peaceful waters that rush into my soul they will have such realness of you I will for brief
Moments know unbroken joy you continue to hold my heart in your hands without end

It's time to contemplate
the twilight of post-modern idols
- An Ideal
can we live for one?

We lay out what we stand for
in simple platitudes
then spend all our time
defining what we're not
despite all the death done
in its name
Protecting Freedom's
just an umbrella
replace "carpet bomb families"
with "neutralize enemies"
- who threatened our Liberty

but that means
sway elections away from those
that reject economic puppetry
Cut the cord
if you want us to buy Contras
Reaganomics define
Drug War: Sold crack,  
bought guns from Iran,
fund death squads
in Nicarag-Hooah!

Freedom's lambs
they had to die
They tried to reach out
against exploited workers
so even Catholic priests
got murked
Yes, murdered
but also muddied
in the waters of
historiography's story
As in, no one studies history

Today's armchair historians
they just find bargains
and hero worship
while they channel surf
Pulled by yachts
they don't make waves
Oceans abound but
most just coast
in creeks and canals
No Wake Zones
Think you're woke, bro?
You just came up
with a narrow strait thought
that was simply dismissed
by Heraclitus of Ephesus
nearly three millennia ago
Your certainty of knowing
brings danger of you drowning
Cause "Ever-newer waters flow
on those who step into the same rivers."

All I know is fire
so burn a hen for Prometheus
and we'll topple poser's podiums
then yoga flame them back to oneness

Cause after horrific mediation
and barring off public relations
You'll catch me drunk playing video games
with butchers and their daughters

Viva Castro
Viva la revolution
Viva the people
Viva the killing of tyrants
Viva the guns of Santiago
Viva the exiled capitalists
Viva the educated masses
Viva the death of Apartheid
Viva homes for the homeless
Viva health care
Viva resisting empires
Viva never backing down
Viva always learning
Viva always improving
Viva learning from mistakes
Viva dialectics
Viva destiny
Viva the future
Viva the flame of life
Viva the hammer of justice
Viva the will of the exploited
Viva our comrades
Viva the titans living and dead
Viva Che
Viva Assata
Viva Fidel
Viva la revolution
Viva Cuba Libre

Like a treacherous jungle, the world shaped its self to resemble the untamable, unforgiveable, and unimaginable creature that pounced on every crest of supple, innocent victim’s souls only to be dragged miles through painful, elongated trenches, and then expended in its entirety to recommence restructure in all new patterns of mutilated destructed forms; completely rearranged and in search for the light to guide culpable souls into worthy positions with better conditions and purer intentions.

From the inception, slithering wildly the legendarily discreet elapid serpent anticipated the fierce panthera. What was thought as a tyro odyssey, was underrated, uncreated, and translated to total transformative, love abated, accommodative, grief impregnated, planes alternated, affirmative gamboling games.

As a barbarous being, all and every cutthroat, bloated, anecdote of overdrawn, theatric fervor entered this imprudent, illuminated, and aggregated thing to fill unanswerable questions and unexplainable connections by intersecting other frantic, energetic, idiosyncratic reoccurring addicts with realms of disintegrated, hardheaded, nerve racked dreams.

The exterior scaled, degenerated able soul entangled and sacrificed minded controlled logic against the mystic, enigmatic, acidic beast. Pushing forward in the battle of cosmic evolution, a mistake making, empathic fool, inflicted from predicated illusions of heart wrenching, exploding, brooding agape for aspired end resulted, expanded frontiers.

What the scrawny, deluded fool missed were the all purposeful and most numerable senses that embrace every now where infinity spirals out related creation in the ever expandable universe that all the scavengers, hoarders, trackers, hunters, carnivores, herbivores, and the water possessed serpent misuse every now and now and now and now and again to address the real issues that are eschewed, abused, and viewed as insignificant tools that could never resolve unbearable fights within things, beings, or feelings of desertedness.

Miscommunication is everywhere and nowhere. Uncontrollable senses are everything and nothing. A constant fight within and without means nothing. Nerves we suppress and addictions we abuse. All to fill a space that exists at uncontrollable rates and lighting speeds. What is strategic logic without perceived cognizance? This is constant tumultuous idleness, sacrificed thoughtlessness, crude awareness, and unmanageable apprehension only exploited to rationalize a beast with labels, feeble doubts, to dwindle realities, and to fuel the unpeaceful balance.

The brute, that the restless, powerless, and distrustless serpent inhabited welcomes the transformative living immortal beings into the now of the hare who weakens the logic to lessened and opened tempos of the lines, spaces, and levels of the all and great smash of vast, immense potentiality of authenticity.

Lori Armstrong
August 1998


Standing tall and silent, like the Sentinel guards of the Forest,
They appear to be listening to Words of Wisdom from an
Unseen, wise, and wonderful Mentor.

They respond in a shy, childlike, gleeful laughter,
Which is Felt, more than heard, by the passerby.
Happy with the whispered answer,
They slowly start to move in a Graceful rhythm,
A sweet and enchanting Dance.

Their outstretched arms surround each other,
Presenting the massive creation of a joy-filled group hug,
A bond of Camaraderie is their own as they sway back and forth in Unison.

Like children playing the game, “I’ve got a secret”,
They seem to simultaneously hide the Mysteries throughout history,
Yet, unwittingly revealing every Moment in Time
They have ever witnessed just by their Presence.

If they could speak, what would they Speak of?
Would we Understand?
Would we Listen?

If they could cry, how deep would their Tears flow?
Do they cry and we are just not ready to Hear?
Would we wipe their tears? … Or cry with them?
Could we truly feel their Sadness? …Their joy?

Could we share in their Trials and their Triumphs?
Do we dare try, for could we endure what they have Endured?

Would we sing along to their Songs of Yore?
Would we understand the Passion in their Words?
Could we carry the Harmony, …
Feeling the Peaks and Valleys of the expressions in their Music?

Their wisdom in age is Unfathomable.

Their vulnerability to man is Reprehensible.
Yet, unfortunately, Comprehensible.

Their story is one of Peace, Love, War, and Chaos, …

But still so Silent to so many.

Their grandeur is taken for Granted, …
And yes, even Exploited.

Their majestic silence is Comforting, appreciated Individually for their gift,
Solitary in the meaning to the receiver.

Breathtaking is their Beauty.

Admirable is their Resiliency.

Gloriously enthralling is their History.

The Creator’s History.

The History of a Gift.

The Red Sea! It lay like a distressed soul, unsettled, deserted and restless;
On its tile-paved shore, I leant against a lamp post, in the desert land;
Women in burkas busied themselves with their kids and picnic baskets;
While cats searched voraciously, among the rubble, for the left over bones.

On my left lay Sanaa, the once upon a time city of Shem, first-born of Noah,  
Whence Queen Sheba embarked in all majesty with gifts for King Solomon.    
And far, beyond the saltiest swelling Red, lay the darkly exploited continent.
Now, a warm gust of wind slogged its way into my lone distraught self.    

Tides heaved, flickered their wet tongues across the rubble, and licked me,
Then withdrew themselves tired, but again and again returned half-heartedly
With much salty tears and sweats of ******* and sufferings of bygone ages:  
The assorted agonies of the Mediterranean, the Indian and the Pacific deeps.

Through the dull splashes, waded to me, Moses and Aron and the Pharaoh;
They said: “Visitor, listen to the voices of the depths!” And I heard well
The abysmal rattle of chariots, wheels and bones, uncarbontestably ancient.
And in the splash of the Red, I scarily tasted the tears and blood of torments.

Then they cautioned me: “Beware of the pseudo-democrats and pseudo-reds:
The gunpowder brokers!” and quoted: “In this world, you’ll have troubles.”
And now, the Sea sounded: “Sorry my dear son, I’m here to bear all these.”
I sighed in pain, but the Sea, through the burning lamp posts, smiled at me.

The Red Sea! It lay like a distressed soul, unsettled, deserted and restless;
On its tile-paved shore, I leant against a lamp post, in the desert land;
Women in burkas busied themselves with their kids and picnic baskets;
While cats searched voraciously, among the rubble, for the left over bones.

On my left lay Sanaa, the once upon a time city of Shem, first-born of Noah,  
Whence Queen Sheba embarked in all majesty with gifts for King Solomon.    
And far, beyond the saltiest swelling Red, lay the darkly exploited continent.
Now, a warm gust of wind slogged its way into my lone distraught self.    

Tides heaved, flickered their wet tongues across the rubble, and licked me,
Then withdrew themselves tired, but again and again returned half-heartedly
With much salty tears and sweats of ******* and sufferings of bygone ages:  
The assorted agonies of the Mediterranean, the Indian and the Pacific deeps.

Through the dull splashes, waded to me, Moses and Aron and the Pharaoh;
They said: “Visitor, listen to the voices of the depths!” And I heard well
The abysmal rattle of chariots, wheels and bones, uncarbontestably ancient.
And in the splash of the Red, I scarily tasted the tears and blood of torments.

Then they cautioned me: “Beware of the pseudo-democrats and pseudo-reds:
The gunpowder brokers!” and quoted: “In this world, you’ll have troubles.”
And now, the Sea sounded: “Sorry my dear son, I’m here to bear all these.”
I sighed in pain, but the Sea, through the burning lamp posts, smiled at me.

Abandoned Dreams

At the water’s edge where the bloom of purist thoughts advance then recede they have left their rich adorning your beaming smile the outer evidence of the hidden treasure within. “These were the best of times” From the land of Chaucer words have flowed so strong the great waters could not impede their arrival now housed in cumbersome stone but with life that pushes back the foolish and ignorant blunderings of human kind bound in covers simple but able to make all wise who would linger to turn a page.

The promise was true the living left no doubt this was where the care free met put down the roots that could hold against nature’s tempests and still awake walk blustering wind gusting paths with eyes that pierced the hidden strong holds gave you the answer to where and how to walk beyond the limits create a brand new day from the storms raging force catch the wind stand aside let it pass with this respect you avoid defeat take the thrill ride the wild wind within the blow there are those that know what it cradles also it will bestow sweetest victory can only go to the courageous.

Souls rich and full made that way by being laid aside the day and night where others go and do their best this one only knows solitude the silent wind only expounds his distant distasteful condition only left to remember when he led others made a difference now fallen to rise no more he beacons to the passerby they only see in him as a tree broken lying close to the living water but leaves browned showing the extreme suffering and then the standing trunk shows it was even twisted as it went down it fought with each of its wooden fibers only to seem to the observer as a former house filled with life and laughter now only abandoned only to be visited by strangers and lingering memories of days gone to soon never to be restored.

This kingly kingdom so kind in youth but when the easily tramped trails become a burden you lose interest you find and old chair can be quiet alluring you quickly find the doorway ajar to past triumphs a new day can be explored and exploited the body with its rugged sinew can be the freeing for the mind experience of golden days can be mined you can again be a valuable contributor you place the markers for others to follow keeping them from harmful pitfalls. Welcome to a great time of rewards well earned by a life time of effort.

California gold-rush blues
Got you pretty thirsty
Where's tank girl when you need her
Saliva thick
Lump in throat
Tongue swelling
Neck swollen
Can't breathe
Drowning
Shrinking skin
Hallucinations
Eyelids crack
Tears of blood
Leather-purse face
Amputated lips
Nose withered
Eyes trapped
We're all exported and exploited
Sold sanely cheap
Used how the rich see fit
Dead in one week
Ecosystem crashing
All for their mansions
Filled with rooms they never use
Profit ******
We see oceans through our windows
97 percent
97 percent
3 percent for you and none for us
Little boy is drinking bubbles
But it ain't champagne
It's dead dogs and fetus juice
Dog dogs and abuse
Where are the wetlands
Where are the holy springs
Soon we'll all be Atlantis
Just another lost city
Soon we'll be living
In underground caves
Like cowards
We all want roses in our garden bower
But the best heroes
Might as well be slaves
Global desert
Without rain
Green turns yellow
Here come the earthquakes
****** forest
Rest in peace
They erected cities
In your memory
Cartels and shades of grey
Vivendi, Veolia
Machines with no soul
Privatizing blue gold
In their corporate quads
Woe to WTO
The new colonialism
Coca Cola 7-Up
Sorry but your time is up
Destroy everything you touch
When it's gone
Get up and leave
Destroy another planet
**** and conquer
SLAPPing silly pointless fools
Transporting silly tools
Shooting all the people's people
Got to pull up the roots
Bullets through lace curtains
Has a ring to it
You spineless cruel leaders
With your oil rivers
Well you've made a rival now
World map's changing underground
Alternatives are scarce
Purity is all but lost
Path of least resistance blocked
Metamorphosizing clocks
Circulation down the train
Don't drink the red water
Just pray for rain

A green carpet spread beneath my feet,
and a sepulchral dome of blue above…
I stood pondering over our equation with nature
and everything that fills her treasure trove.

The benevolent mother of greedy billions…
The silent surveyor of each and every sin.
Pain and agony fill her every single breath,
as she is mercilessly exploited by her kin.

Her omniscience is as impeccable as ever,
she knows the consequences we are destined to face.
She pities our nonchalance and ignorance,
as we foolishly tamper with her dignity and grace.

With a sobbing heart, she ceaselessly grieves,
as her veins are poisoned by what our factories spit.
As daily, humanity mocks and molests her,
and behaves with her as it deems fit.

Our ruthless attacks have left their scars,
in the crown of ozone that adorns her head.
And though she seals her lips with vast tolerance,
we mindlessly spray her face with mercury and lead.

She knows she is foolish to harbour such fiends,
but she cannot bear to see them languish.
And so she suffers so that we may prosper,
and never ever voices her wails of anguish.

But when we meddle in matters not meant for us
and treat His greatest creation with little care…
It’s impossible to escape the noose of justice,
and future will strip these sins of past bare.

She knows it now, as she knew it then –
and being a mother has warned us as well.
Each tsunami, earthquake or a lava eruption,
is a mere snapshot of what lies in store in hell.

Yet we contemptuously dismiss these warnings,
to continue our imperious march to global havoc.
Extinction will soon be staring at our faces,
as death and destruction are bound to run amok.

This ailing planet is on critical life support,
and our insipid response has left it aghast.
It is begging us to take the green turn soon,
Lest the obdurate wheels of time run past.

Nature’s coffers are slowly but surely drying,
from our reckless use over all these years.
And a mother groans in stifled despair, searching
amongst her children for sympathetic ears.

Forget all of our webchats,
Forget our fake hugs when we reunited,
Forget the fake love we shared,
And forget our laughs and moments of bonding.
You've hurt me more than you could ever imagine,
And don't try to be friends with me out of guilt,
Because the past can never be erased,
You are honestly a disgrace!
Why sit here and think about you,
After all the pain you put me through,
Neglect, wanting to have *** constantly, and showing no affection towards me,
But there's a whole lot more,
Just not enough to put on paper.
All I was was nice to you,
And you very much exploited me,
And for that I can never forgive you,
You selfish boy!
I used to think you cared about my family,
Friends and sick relatives,
But I now realize you never did.
But I have people who will always love and care about me!
Do me a favor,
And stop texting and calling me out of guilt,
Because you know you never really loved me,
You just wanted to show me off for the time being!
Let's think realistically,
You cared more about yourself than you ever did me!
You put me last of your priority list and you ******* with my head,
For many months!
But I can say one thing about you,
You're very clever,
Into making me fall for you,
But I'm not as stupid as you think,
I'm so done with you!
Even after I write this poem,
I still care about you a smidge,
And I have not a clue of why,
But I know one thing to be true,
I'm leaving you forever; goodbye.

Wishing to be a White Pine in Washington States,
where my happiness was redesigned with love, nature and humanity,
where food is a culinary ******,
and people  good representation of human beings.

I would like to enhance nature,
provide oxygen ,housing  to the kingdom of fauna,
and fragrance to the essence of earth.

Deforesting me is a common job
Exploited me is wood trafficking
Causing divesting consequences:
species extinctions, global climate change
damage of soil, and hazard of agriculture
Loosing me will impact other species,
Collapse of the entire ecosystem,
Understanding
keeping me alive is keeping you alive
killing me is killing you

When the man at the hardware store asks,
what shade of blue are you looking for sugar,
to paint the walls of our hypothetical son's room,
I would have said heartbreak,
the same shade of heartbreaking blue as his daddy's eyes.
Ironic, because I would have rooted for a gender neutral colour,
an agnostic upbringing and a liberal education,
but somewhere down this erratic, dysfunctional relationship,
I stopped caring, or perhaps, cared only of you.
Since you left there's nothing to care about,
there's no you, there's no us, there's no motivation,
my priorities, values and aspirations are still maintaining a distance,
I'm feeling a heartbreaking shade of blue.
Like that one time I got high on dried out ****,
I was completely aware of every stage of this breakup,
the shock, the disbelief, the sadness, the pain, the regret,
until it stopped.
The world has come to a standstill,
leaving me tripping between spring and snowflakes on the windowsill,
I'm not coming down from the high, or low,
I should have got you out of my system 4 years ago.
It's not a linear process, said my friend,
and I know what he means,
because for everyday I get through without thinking of you,
I spend weeks curled up in pain in bed or on the floor,
feeling a heartbreaking shade of blue.
Kept awake at night, weary, paranoid and deluded,
suffocated, drowned in despair, sometimes even in air,
in the shallow words, empty promises and plans made,
thrown into solitary confinement among hundreds of other people,
breaking me, when I'm already broken.
All while you stripped me of my dignity, intuition and optimism,
disregarded my needs, exploited my insecurities and wasted my heart,
I thought I knew you,
come to think of it, I don't think your eyes are blue.

My entire life, I've been around the police force.
Mommy, Uncle Tony, and Anita have always been my favorite.
My heroes with the shiny cars and badges.
In my eyes, they are reigning champions of
"good officers still exist" during times like this.

I've never seen a storm last this long,
and I've kept my silence for far too long.
I was stuck.
For all I knew was a good officer until my brothers
and sisters were exploited on tv screens and magazines.
Blood seeping down and staining shirts, eyes wide open,
and bodies lying in the street.

Growing up, all I knew was a good officer.
So my world shook when I noticed the bad ones, too.
They make it hard for me to defend what I've always
known to protect me. At some point, the bad ones,
we must ****. And with a corrupt justice system
that dismisses the actions that we see, it gets tough...
For both you and me.
"STOP ******* KILLING US," we scream.
But no matter how many octaves we reach,
they still aren't listening. And we are left to wonder,
"Who's next: you or me?"

We make posters with blank spaces,
prepared for another one fallen.
But it's apparent that they refuse to see
that our people are hurting; and that
the chains they put on us not that many years ago
are still bound to us as if they are the latest accessory.

I didn't celebrate the fourth this year.
My people are dying, and here I am breathing
and hoping that anyone near and dear isn't affected by this mockery.
"Black on black crime is a real thing." No denying that statement
but why say that first knowing that some of the ones
we are told to trust don't want to see you free?
Do you understand that any black man could be next?
Even though I'm a woman, ****, it could be me.
My *****, are you listening? Did you get word?
Homie said, "Set your clock back 300 years!"
How about that for a rude awakening?

Quit telling my people that this **** here is an illusion.
You wanna be "a *****" so badly?
Cool, my *****, this is our reality.
We out here dying every day, b.
Pictures of dead bodies and videos of the crime scene,
mothers and children crying.

I never know what to expect.
I'm just praying I don't get a call saying (insert name here)
died at (insert time here) for their melanin radiating
and minding their business.
#JusticeFor___: Trayvon, Sandra, Kathryn, Sean, Eric,
Rekia, Amadou, Mike, Kimani, Kenneth, Travares,
Tamir, Aiyana, Freddie.
Alton and Philando with six shots to the chest.
****, y'all know what's next and I'm so ******* tired.
I will say their names unapologetically
because my heart can't take
my people's hearts tearing at the seams
from the mutual pain we are experiencing.

Black kings, I will pray for you.
Black families, stay whole.
Black children, alive and unborn, I love you.
Apparently: a wallet, sleeping, Skittles, a cellphone,
loud music, cigarettes, cigarillos, shopping at Wal-Mart,
toy guns, failure to signal, CDs, and reaching
for your license and registration can get you all ****** up.

I've never seen a storm last this long.
I've never seen the good officers be seen as the criminal.
I've never seen a people so desperate and anxious
for light at the end of a tunnel...
Until the bad cops thought it was okay
to play illegally and get away.
*7716

You ran
When it was your turn
Hiding
While the poor did burn
Now you ruin
The lives of others
Ignoring the cries
Of tearful mothers
With shameful assurance
In your own power
You now stand tall
Pretending you did not cower
Allowing others
To walk and die
In your place
So you could lie
About your past
And how you believed
In a just cause
While your kind deceived
The sheep
Herding us along
You pretended to be strong
But in fact you were wrong
And now seasoned
With a flag
And a god
You brag
Of America
And it’s greatness
Yet you destroyed
The moral compass
In your desire
To ****
And for what?
To achieve God’s will?
The same God
Who said
“Blessed are the peacemakers?”
As he led
The meek
And the poor
As they seek
Deliverance
From the likes of you
Who can only steal
From the hearts of the few
Who continue to believe
In a world of green meadows
Sparkling oceans
And the love they conceive
As their children
Look to them for guidance
In a world
Where avoidance
Of conflict
Is rewarded
With the power
To ignore the exploited
And to line the pockets
Of those who said no
To service
But now say go
To those who have no option
But to fight and die
For the chosen few
Who will not tell us why
They can live with impunity
Never answering the question
Of how God’s grace is given
To Satan’s confession

An X-ray  of ******* love

They were so soft.
The hands that took control and made the pace
Of the heart that race
Within the mess of a chest
That bravado expels

It was so open.
That mind that reduced his fears Induced tears
Used to indulged his idol chatter
Hitting my wordy pitches
Like a home run "Hey Batter Batter!!"

It felt so right
The places that exposed his **** faces
Things that spread, squeezed, and joy in **** tasting
An inserted pleasure burrowed deep from throat to waisted
Passed out drunk on love lust and **** filled vases

The peak was so brilliant
Joy ride till they collide out of control out of their minds
Writing vandalism like an equations broadside
"E=U & I" , could hate you in this day and time
But starve till withered away the day she ever said goodbye

The splash was so divine
Touched by her personal heaven
An angel as lucky like the # 11
He could never pretend or fake being insatiable.
The main source of his complexity

The view was so vast
A world of flat boring land waiting to be filled
Brought to life by their skills and the pursuit of a thrill
Would feel beheaded if ever they stood still
Feeding their frenzy and bending alls will (to their own)

The potency was such a rush
Too much oh so much, but oh so desired
Craving how much she'd  say " it's you I admire"
Toiling with brow to his navel, igniting the fire
The long kiss goodnight, made the morning quench of the sun a joy to the heart like her sweet face and loving
The monument by which praise and parade of her exploited flesh bare the quill to write paradise that he is inspired

The dream is much too real
While they watch the world turn and the masses conform
We struggle against the tide and tread the waves of the pass they morn
A lottery, marathon, playground, where many have entered her but only one can win the title of "Adored"

The now is not so much of then
They were them sometimes Every now and again engaged in moments when
Them they see and believe "you and me can be...."

But time sprints, and they limp, slower every aging step
Till times out of view and they're  out of breath
Bed bound but not the expected intent
For one is most attentive while the other lay mostly spent
But embraced they lay unchanged in any way
Still in love and still insane
Crazy for each others bane
Awake for the moon, and snooze through the rain
Gentle dreams of forbidden entry, daily flirt but never stray
Away, stay, away, plead for a day. Agreed then rinse, repeat
A treat for the sweet thoughts of the "use to be" but enjoyable right here, right now, someday is today

-Xin-

I'm taking an elevator to the
top of a building full of
people who don't care to know my name.

And on the way up,
my mom calls me and asks me
"Where are you?"
and I have to tell her
"I don't know,"
because nobody actually told me
on the way in, and I'm alone,
and the elevator isn't moving,
and my bank account isn't moving,
and now that I'm home
(which I'm not,)
((which I am,))
I can't figure out how to move my feet,
and so my legs aren't moving,
and my arms aren't moving,
and my head isn't moving.

And basically, I'm not going to
dance for these corporations,
so they're not going to dance for me
until I'm back on an elevator, singing
"Hey there, Delilah.
How's it feel to be exploited?"

But that's okay, because despite
my arms, legs, feet, bank account,
and this elevator,
my heart is moving.
And the continents are moving,
and this planet is moving,
and there isn't a CFO on Easy Street
who knows how to slow us down.

Between
Black and White
Right and Wrong
War and Peace
lies the
Gray zone the
Blurred line
Middle ground
Limbo

No boundaries between
Good and Evil
Moral and Amoral
Thin ice and
Solid ground

No safety net to prevent slipping into extremes
No caution signs or flashing lights to guide our steps

We live and die in a
Fairy tale with alternate endings penned by
Politicians
Media moguls and
Religious fanatics who
Convince us to
Choose from a stacked deck to
Win a fixed game
Compliment us on our finery
tho we are threadbare or naked

We live in the land of the free where the
Rule of law applies only to commoners
Opportunity comes with a price few can afford  and
Everyone has the
Right to work and the
Right to be exploited

You might be dwelling in the kingdom of surreality if….

Conflicting images are presented as harmonious
Opposites are blended to form bland
Ugliness is sugar-coated and swallowed whole
Love and passion interfere with success.

For your convenience
and mine, I am
kind and sensitive at times, just
enough to make you believe that

friends like me are
rare. That's why you can't make out when
I** begin to
exploit you and it is when you begin to
notice, that I defend myself, say you exploited me,
dump you like I planned and
soon become a fake friend of someone
hapless and rare like you were, while
in the meantime you become like me;
perhaps that's why fake friends are not uncommon.

(Chiara was talking to Francesca in their shared bedroom.)


Chiara said,



''I like to watch you painting while playing the piano.
We're both passionate about painting and music. I think this
Is why we like each other; '' '' you can sing the high soprano.''
''We shared this love of Arturo; as he died, so passed our bliss.''



Francesca replied,



'' What did you say about sharing? I was only his daughter.
''I loved him enormously; I wished to give birth to his
Girl; '' ''Your dream was like the image of a star in the water,
Because he wanted a boy, and you should be some kind of wiz




To give birth to his boy; '' ''All my valuable books about
New discoveries and religion burned on that carrack.''
''I'm sorry to hear that; I liked them; there is beyond all doubt
That our spiritual Eden is secured from the devil's attack.



Francesca continued,



I've thought of the book you had read as I've thought of a visual
Art form; that monk and that nun were in contact only by
Knowing God to get an equilibrium; that biblical
Space was like a ship never sinking, where the people didn't die.''


Chiara replied,



''I've tried to understand God; we must be pure to meet Him.''
''They are educated through prayers to love God and to
Maintain their virginity; I thought that love was for a whim,
When it was based on attraction, not for a marriage; '' ''It's true.''




'' Love must be rational to develop over time while
Finding fulfillment in being a mother; '' '' These mothers
Are devoted givers; there's a lot of bliss in their smile.''
''A husband must love his wife very much; '' '' Closer than brothers,




The man and the woman in togetherness must live,
But no love can save you if you do not want to be saved.
I think you run into the art's world your mother's death to forgive.''
''If my dad had really loved her, she would not have died.''




'' Your thinking is totally wrong; your father was not
Orpheus to save her from her inferno of life.
She didn't accept her human condition; he loved her allot.
You're like your mother while denying everything in this strife




With your fate; Lucca made a mistake when he married you.''
'' Indeed, I did not feel free. Maybe it is because I was
Forced to marry him while my sufferings were painted new.
Why was Lucca talking with Ivan? '' '' I tell you why, it was because



Chiara continued,



Ivan was released from the position of a serf.''
‘‘Lucca wanted to know the mindset of the exploited class.''
''As a diplomat, while walking down the end of the Athens wharf,
Lucca studied Ivan to know if he was cruel or crass.



Chiara continued,



As a wealthy man with a political power,
A decision-making capacity and some business skills
To avoid some complications he had a desire.''
'' He had charming manners and talked concisely about rents and bills.''



Chiara replied,



'' All his life he had worked to increase his wealth and to make
A career in diplomacy; this is why he was forty
Years old when he asked you to be his wife; he wanted to take
Care of us; he paid your father's remaining debt payments




And this trip while wanting the stability of our family.
And how did you reward him while rejecting him
Or being cold as an ice when not doin' what comes naturally.''
''Chiara, he needed a positive image; '' '' your tears are dim.''



Francesca continued,



'' He took time to know his new family away from any
Social obligations; '' ''your father needed a groom like him.''
''Why? '' '' Because he had lived with his memories, much and many.
Der Eyck’s instrument is not new; his memory was slim.




He took refuge in the game world of the cards and destroyed
His property; '' '' But those who played with him were your friends; why
Didn't you save him? '' ''I couldn't do anything; to avoid
This misfortune was impossible; your love will set awry




If I tell you a secret I hide for fear of hurting you.''
Chiara's eyes gave Francesca a real scare, '' I know he was ill.''
''Your father didn't love you as you thought; '' ''How can this be true?
''He didn't care of you while passionately playing cards till



Chiara continued,



He lost his fortune and wanted to commit the suicide.
Do you realize that we could live as poor women
While lacking any support and having nightmares inside?
I've told your father about Lucca; he sent me to you then.




Lucca was the son of my friend and she told me her little
Secret; I thought Lucca would help consolidate the debt
Of your father with a loan, but his intention was a riddle.
I had to convince you to marry this man; a roulette




Was your entire father's life; all I could do was to listen
To my husband; the gold was more important to him than
You have ever been; '' ''Before the neighbors could find what was missin'
I had to marry; but when my father was rich, he had



Many relationships, he could borrow from one of his friends.''
''Dear, his relations have deteriorated because he was
No longer a reliable man; '' '' friendship never ends.
Why did Lucca want to marry me? '' '''He trusted my word; applause! ''


(Francesca started to cry. She had a conscience. Chiara was her benefactress.)

(…To be continued…)

Poem by Marieta Maglas