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Yenson Jan 12
The air filled with discord on these killing days
I sat with Biko but did nothing to help but read Finer
Madiba sat busy in his cage mourning with the futile sages
In disquiet Lecture halls we called and voices rose higher
Then my errant pen rebelled and on paper fired in pent rage

Impertinent weeping heart wedded to agile immaturity
Spew words and scribble indictments bonanzas on fired lines
Tis the age of reason and now it's chimes for gospel solidarity
This is why 'n this is how to extract the sourness from the limes
Be it the irascibility of a fledgling's dossier handed to Authority

In that foolish morn and days of thunder the dye was cast
Vogue tirades in contemporary suits offers designer conclusions
The brothers of today embracing diversities in Structures vast
In palaces pigments open wide ensuing foreboding discussions
Flag immediately and contain for this is one that must not last

Biko sleeps peacefully with angels and rests in God's arms
Madiba walked free and danced freedom with all colours in tow
A nation finds itself with a bespoke tailor and plenty of new farms
Across the Atlantic a foreign voice was silenced and made to bow
For youthful innocuous tantrum yelling is not quite the ****** norm

copyright.12/01/[email protected] reserved
Monika Sep 2018
Bleakest drape inescapence.
Impertinent involuscence.
Stemming from a copulent.
Incongruent malocculent.

Plead among no relent.
Populate incompetent.
Unvaried fraudulence.
Clarity accomplishments.

In foggy eyes, the view reset.
Across the smoke, a sober fret.
A mind that rose from utter death.
Again to draw, refreshing breath.
Come keep time and rhythm by my side
For a bucket is as good a drum
As any that I’ve ever played before
Let's come crashing together
Like comets in the sand
Like salty lovers in the waves
It could be our last chance
To bathe in clean water
For once you are found naked
You can never again misbehave
With innocent abandon

Maybe it's all just a bit random
Perhaps we are a part of a poem
Or was it an ancient potion
Written down or swallowed long ago
Made from snow and ash
That turned us all into animals
From dirt to bone and earth to flesh
We rose from soil into soul

Maybe we're only organic forms
After all, is said and done
Growing like ancient ferns
Dangling from the earth’s *****
Maybe we are commas and semi colons
Just a few squiggly lines
Learning how to bend real low
So as not to get hurt again

Maybe we are just formica cabinets
Stashed with cash and cigarettes
And desiccated bodies
Desperately in need of some whiskey
Maybe we are impertinent cathedrals
And meaningful glances
Stolen from misleading women
Wearing only black eyeshadow
Dalton Oct 24

Long ago I learned it
Nobody on this Earth is
That's for certain

I'm determined
To be a better person
As I continue workin'
Ready to handle any burden

Not yet affirmative
We're still not so sure of it
If elsewhere life stirs and exists

A solar system full of curses and gifts
All these strange occurences
In a world that can be merciless
Below and above all surfaces

People being wasteful and others conservative
Food sold with and without preservatives

The first to quit
Far too often people see no way out, instead of the alternative
Stop doing yourself disservices
And making foolish purchases

Focus on virtousness
Considering that nothing remains in a state of permanence

Do you know who Tyler Durden is?
Are you familiar with Copernicus?

So many serpents
Others being impertinent
And then there's those that want to put you in the dirt quick

Yet another work shift
Involving vertebrates

At times, limbs in dire need of a tourniquet

Planes in mid flight, occasionally hit with turbulence
Violent crimes causing mass hysteria and disturbances

Ever occuring festivals and tournaments
Homes with or without trees and ornaments

The greedy take it all, while others get nothing
Even though they earned a bit
At least a third of it

Some of which is interpretative
All these true stories and even more myths

Shout out to a select few herbalists
And journalists

I haven't yet discovered what my purpose is
But, it's all good,  I'm still looking with earnestness

Appreciate what this globe has to offer
Goodbye, I'm now six feet under where the surface is
Now you know, if you haven't yet heard of it

— The End —