there's a part of me
that's supposed to keep
up with the queen
english,
   and the kennedy obsessed
over-usage of
the acronyms?
i'm not even english...
       e.n.g.l.i.s.h.:
even not glee, like
   it should: (definetly) hurt...
huh?
enlighten me:
i just need to listen to
the "loser" part
before another school-shooting
takes place!
you get to become a real
vermont intellectual then...
"then", when...
the worst,
and the last resort happens...
the pope is shot,
and...
   even though there
enough cardinal replacements...
but, none...
takes up to ingest
the "marker"...
     i'm just a dumb ******:
   i'm gagging to be enlightened...
where was x-men,
marvel...
  and norse mythology?
where i'm at...
   modern vevo?
    can't hear it...
         "ancient" songs
akin to: audioslave...
like a stone?
i forget...
was i ever to claim any
hereos
from the punk movement,
or the remnants
of david blowie?
        can, i, should i,
can't i just hope to be a
forgotten "one"
on the assured coast
off mombasa?
i ******* hate
afro-american
******* ******* off
about native kenyas...
i hate them...
  me... i want to **** on
them!
it's like "they"
managed
to congregate
into a singular
african identity...
what?!
like me...
******... with...
the germans and the russians?!
like that?
like...
you tell me...
when i dated
a russian girlfriend...
my parents were against it?
like i said:
but she was the love of my life
(not really):
i would be easier assured
by a black...
an indian: core...
but then they released me
into the wild...
anticipating what
kenya made available...
you can't exactly describe
ivory skin...
if not having to
experience it in
the tinge of moon-light...
  my skin is too fatigued...
i can only be
a progressive-racist...
  i fell in love with
a Kenyan
ivory beauty...
  and i will stand:
  as these words' worth
of anchor...
along with the ship...
anything...
anything to made antagonism
of those
mentally deranged ******
agitating the
white men into
mass shootings...
as if, impying:
                "exodus"...

yeah, i fancied a black girl,
but it was a black girl
among blacks,
it wasn't a black girl among
whites...
which made me think
of this post-colonial society:
so...
   you made...
a slave-trade...
with the retards,
or the gullible?
   who runs faster the 100m
race?
the white man,
or the black man?
so...  camel...
did you enslave the retards...
or the gullible?
n.b.a. athletes...
did you enslave
the retards...
           or the gullible?

neither... no "hands-up"...
o.k., good to know...
now "we" know how
to side
with the hispanics;
goths, spaniards...
who, once upon a time,
settled in:
current date:
   morocco;
with a past...
that's more akin
to             "morocco".

Zionist father's "lamentation; his sons burial."
The family of an IDF soldier was gathered for his funeral from Rapha rubble. All that was left of him was a small box of his ash remains. Words began to pass over his grave.
"I remember how handsome he looked in uniform," said his mother, "with his matching Helmet  & Pampers." "I remember how brave he was," said his father, "he once neutralized a neonatal intensive care unit without hesitating for a second." "I remember how loving he was," said his daughter, "he once demolished a school for me on my birthday." "I remember how strong he was," said his wife, "every child he faced fell before his might." "I remember him being bigger," said his son, "What happened to him?". "Apparently," stated his mother,

"He triggered a *****-trap while plundering a house in Gaza."

"Well, I guess he died as Israel lives" stated his father.
"And how is that?"

Asked the others?
"By burglarizing someone else's home after proudly murdering all palestinian family members "

Oh! Said his grandmother

"Every muslim Palestinian, any non zionist jewish birth poses an existential threat to his new and future born children, thats why

"this IDF soldier's remains are buried among genocidal war criminal hereos in Izrahell."
~~~~~
Izrael:August 2024.
~~~~

when the world is darkest
the hereos see the stars
but instead of blocking the light
take someone else out of the dark

finest energy
has golden sparks of dancing light
sparkling in what seems to be empty space
scent of rose
tells me
lies don't matter
who do the liars confuse?
ultimately they burden themselves
they damaged me
but those wounds are surface
I show that surface
what is inside
is made of
solid
Gold
cannot be bought or sold
though it does exit the bag of bones I inhabit
when I leave
call it
my key to the kingdom
I thought the women foolish, sad their husbands and musicians made them look so uninformed and petty minded.
One question if nothing happened
why was the 'mental mary' pushed back before she spoke up?
the knots guilty were knot aware of an incident that they gossipped about for years, suddenly its a figment of her imagination
knot bothered,
again, who are they trying to convince?
themselves?
i don't know why I cry
I'm not concerned about me,
I'm concerned about your lack of concern for yourselves, your family,  for lack of knowledge of the Divine , for truth, justice and how far you have all fallen from that.
I'm crying for all my fallen hereos

death steadies the hand,
given that life cares so little for it:
oh care i for you, to turn a smile
into a jagged frame for a jawline
that i might nibble on,
in a full caress,
    of a sunset...
and that it might  be, mine...
  that alone, would leave me elevated
above the mortal  mourning of said:
and encompassed "future":
for there be a breath
in death we all have to breathe...
and in epitaph entomb
ourselves as serving a purprose!
of a land beyond one's own:
mindful of the thistle -
prime colour purple...
   and the last remianing claim
to light...
           might be said of worth of
compensation due sacrifice?
thus the thistle, in purple bishop-bound
gown... the last house of scotland found...
are these the days of surrogate champions...
to market the hopes and lost hereos of
trojan acts!
                   no sooth, nor claim,
no name, nor flower,
     no shakespeare's worth
of citation, no boundary,
                              no given name,
let him abide by in death unto his eternal
rest: abdiding within the confines
of an unnamed grave...
                  settle no for, nor prior to,
nor invitating within said dates:
   to be either named duncan, macbeth,
or the willing wallace...
may the grave reside sacred: silent...
      and full of testimonial opaque of peace,
as is its historical due.

In the beginning, there are tribes.
There are tribal war,
Death is the only option.

Then spanish came, with the might
of the Cross.
they introduced peace with Christ.

Some tribe accept the Cross,
Some accept the conflict
and death is only await.

They don't prevail for long,
and the Cross brought inside,
the islands become Christian.

But that's not the end of the happy ending,
Some will always make conflict.
and the war will begin.

Because of evil habit,
We always want conflict.

We killed our owned hereos,
We killed the Chieftain who deffended the soveriegnty,
We killed the Supremo who wants independence,
We killed the only General we have.

They died because of love of country,
They died because of love of money,
They died because of us.

and now, the only President we have,
might die in the hands of our own foolishness.