Everyones chillin’
Groovy tunes rollin’
Lowriders cruisin’
Then your loud *** comes along
Takin’ up space
Yours and mine
Wreckin’ smooth
Pushin’ your own groove
"Donk in charge"
No votes necessary
Everythin’ sighs
Bubble on the mic
Doin’ your business
All over the room
Box store cut-*** mule
Nothin’ but unwoke noise
Blow Bull Horn


© 2019 MJL

Brought from the past
This future is not mine
Afraid to speak
It does not align
Brought from the past
I can't help but be here
Afraid to be me
This future insincere

Quite interesting that,
No political machinery,
Is pushing a different narrative,
Around elective positions;

Especially at the highest positions of,
Federal, state and local tiers of government in,
A horse race to secure power by any means, and,
To what end, really?

One backed by bullion war chests of,
Infinite origins or two of,
Rich origins that remain quite unclear and,
Three acclaimed to be extremely frugal;

Any side of the triangle appears to
Be propelled by ordinate ambition to,
Lord it over the living and the inanimate in,
Obstinate patriarchy to be the head and not the tail;

So, and not so surprisingly, still,
No political organisation in the running has,
Conceived the idea of a female candidate in,
The position of president or the vice, why?

Busy with primordial pernutations,
The entire land is in a heightened frenzy with,
Ethno dichotomy and religious bugaboo, both,
At the fore of national discourse, sadly;

So here we are, the woke and unwoke, all,
Pretending to be mute, deaf and unseeing in,
What evidently would have been the,
Icing on the national cake where a woman to emerge;

Why can't a woman be your running mate in,
This quest to change the miserable trajectory of,
Impending doom this contraption is headed for,
And a gender balance at the echelon of state power?

Whatever anyone says or doesn't say, now,
Nobody should be left any doubt whatever that,
As a people this geographical expression is not serious with,
The things that matter; like a female vee-***;

And until the national focus shifts toward the,
Preference for a female vice president or president, even,
Over religious or ethnic balance in pairing flag bearers then,
All and every attempt at anything, whatsoever,  remains, still, a huge J O K E.

Part I.

The Pathways sing beneath the walk
The Stones all gibber and chatter
Even the Hills will seem to talk
But God is ever silent.

The Sun above does gladly shout
The Moon is ever laughing
Nocturnal Stars are calling out
But God is yet still silent.

The Rivers dance while they converse
The Trees cry out rejoicing
The Flow’rs and Shrubs repeat their verse
So why is God yet silent?

The warm, dark Earth sounds forth a chant
Great Waters deep are whispering
Nature declares, she won’t recant
That God is ever silent.

To hear that Voice divine I long
And yet my weeping is ignored
O God! do not reject my song
Do not remain still silent!

One syllable worth any price
“Repent ye now”,
The Angelic advice,
“Embrace God’s holy silence.”

So now, of succour sweet despairing
With girded ***** and bracèd nerves
For trials fierce and pains preparing
I wade into God’s silence.

Part II.

The roaring wheel of brass and fire which turns
Clamoring discontented mind
When hearts a break with noise would find
Rams into the sanctuary and burns.

Titan of confusion, shrieking manic
Hurling anxious darts left and right
Bitter fear of sweet, quiet night
Raises pale banners in rebel panic.

And then is swallowed by the silence of God.

And then that vicious imp, empty as smoke
With shadow flares and eye-hooks small
****** still ears with his plaintive call
Stirring bare phantoms better left unwoke.

Reveler in flight, retreating gladly
One second seen, another vanished
When from vision’s corner banished
In dawn’s clear light melts, moans, and mourns sadly.

And then is swallowed by the silence of God.

Next comes the whispering harpy snarling
With siren’s chant and feathered dance,
Star-lit promise of dire romance,
Ev’ry poison played to snare her darling.

With pitfalls, traps, and terror’s bone-deep goad
She drives the frail into her arms;
Should the pilgrim despise her charms
She falls unembraced from the narrow road.

And then is swallowed by the silence of God.

Then mem’ry’s cursèd brother, roused at last
Renews and fires old sleeping fears
Unseals fountains of ancient tears
Loosing soul-deep wolves, self-war loping fast.

He sings forgotten songs of unhealed woe
Canticles of reminding pain
Recalling weakness to the brain
Parades of shame and horrors marching slow.

And then is swallowed by the silence of God.

Now stripped and shivering the sinner lies
To vain light blind, to mean pain numb
To ****** words both deaf and dumb,
All spent, undone, to Heaven weakly sighs.

Then lo! a gentl’r sun, a fairer glow,
Voice free from the burden of clay
Sure refuge of undying day
Descends to see, to touch, to heal, to know.

And ah! to be swallowed by the silence of God!