I watched him walking through the town
catching all the people's stares
and could tell they looked not at the man,
but the clothes and long grey hair.

As he drew closer I caught the smell
of old dust and stale cigarettes.
His face wore a mask of sadness
and the weight of past regrets.

Walking slowly by, he glanced my way
and in his eyes was a need to weep.
I could tell this once had been a strong man,
but the wounds in his heart were deep.

There was an old worn string around his neck
holding a medal called a purple heart
and anger rose in me this country discarded
an old soldier like an old used part.

I stopped him to ask if he needed work
and offered the man a meal.
Refusing politely, said he had to move on
and I knew he would never heal.

Months have went by, but I think of this man
and pray that he walks with Godspeed,
but I know his shoulders are tired of the load
and the wounds in his heart still bleed.

Know it/Grow it

If we cannot accept each other- then how can we ever complain?
When we look back with malice at others and they look back to us just the same?
We’re judgemental- it’s instrumental in the loss of the faith that we had,
Condemning each other, creating our cover- to hide from the fact that we’re sad.
You know life’s not easy in this small world today
We have to see things from so many ways:
We’re seeing and knowing more than all those before,
Aware in depression of VIOLENCE-HATE-WAR!
You feel really bad when you see things that way-
A feeling of anger- that someone must pay!
But the price becomes yours- as you lead from the front
To consume and possess what you’ve been taught to want.
Distracted; you rage at the things in your face
Frustrated; cant change things- you feel a disgrace.
All those around you feel the force of your wrath
The anger misguided- you’ve strayed from the path.
But somewhere inside is a power: I know
You feel something ‘free’ and autonomy grows
You realise the strength that you had from the start
That it’s only yourself that kept it apart
Blaming no more and with no need to judge
You won’t be afraid and your stance will not budge.
You won’t seek approval for the way that you feel
You won’t be ashamed of what you say’s real
You’ll sing like a bluebird released from its cage
The truth in your free heart will temper your rage.
You know it- you grow it- the sowing of seed
That teaches- not preaches- the folly of need
You know it- you grow it- the love in your soul
That spreads unto others to their journeys goal
We travel life together- enemy and friend
Create and destroy ‘til our journeys end
But when we all die and return to the earth
It’s those that we cared for that will cherish our worth.

And suddenly she is so beautiful
And suddenly my world shifts
What would I be willing to do?
Not that. Not for that
And to think the world is that despicable
To have to get on my knees for love
And suddenly, so many hidden meanings
Bursting forth
As so many things do…
And how does it feel?
How do you feel.
You feel it now, the guilt
And this is why you couldn’t gain help from me
You know what she is
And you know what you are
Together, what will you become?
As I struggle through these times alone
With only my beliefs, so often wavering
You will make it through
But when I move on, used to the torment and tempest
Your fragile shallow leaves will be torn from you
And the girl who loved you
Will have seen.

How is it, that people are called by
the places that they were born,
rather than the planet they were
born on?

How is it that all human beings have blood?
but yet they feel that they are different
from each other and still all bleed the same?


How is it that the outside of a human being is
more important than the inside? How can that be so,
when the heart beats the same for all below?


How is it that the air that we all breathe gives life
and nobody, nobody can live without it?
Does that not make all the same, like love hurt and pain?


How is it that we all have brains and we allow these things
to still go on? Something here is definitely wrong.

Young black man walking the streets
Harsh weather has put lines on his face
Contorted
Looking mean, but not mean; just cold
Contorted from emotional damage
Damage of emotions he can’t show
Contorted from dreams lost
Dreams that he continues to chase
Dreams that constantly elude him

He has a right to walk the streets
Daytime
Night-time
Tired and beat.
Yet when he steps into his Timbs
Steps into his loose fitting jeans
You look at him as if he is a plague
A tragedy and a deadly epidemic to avoid
A sickness so deadly that when you catch it you will perish
As if you will be contorted at his sight
Contortion of rights
He is on the streets because he has a right
Looking fazed and uncomfortable himself
He knows he has a right
Soon…

Blue and red lights
Its not new year’s yet, or is it?
The young black man keeps walking
Head hanging low
Walking with a swagger only a black man can master
Emotions burning
Head spinning
Trying to mentally note
The illegality of his pockets
The wrong of his stereotyped being
The dead of his steps
His steps become dead
He has a right, right?

“Who are you?”
“Where are you going?”
“Who are you with?”
He is after all; alone!
He is walking; same as the contorted Officer
They both have… RIGHTS
He looks back
Face cringed and contorted
Forget his rights
As a young black man
In the dead of the night and abandoned streets
He has only one right
THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT…


Neo (30.10.07)

This vacant seaside—
Hushed clamor of Poseidon.
Azure fragments cut through heavens of nightfall.
I close my eyes and feel the caress of the moist chilled breeze.
Take a deep breath and absorb this delicate beckoning night—

The scent of lime fills the salty air.
Such a calming fragrance brings me tranquility.
It caresses my skin as silk gracing with silent embrace.
The wind moves and blows as my breath—
I walk slowly towards the shore as Chronos takes me.

The waves wrap my feet and the sand sinks them in
as if granting me access to it’s essence.
The current takes me with the tempo of my beating heart—
Gaia stares at this breathtaking dusk
while Artemis cuts the water with a scarlet blaze.

Her light extends like a banshee
everything but her glory lies in shadows.
and I... gone astray—
The stroke of the Zephyr brings a stillness.
And I stretch my soul quietly over the canopy of twilight.

And there, in the distance
floating in the shadows past the light of the moon—
A coke can.

I walk among you but you don't see me,
I am dress in the suit of humanity
I walk the streets of New York City
My face is familiar to you only
because only because you see me.


I watch the world as you come and go.
I watch you do the thing and what you know.
I watch you in happy and glad moments.
But you can't see me because you don't
know me from the next.

Wouldn't it be nice if knew one another
Instead strangers looking at each other
I don’t know you and you don’t know
me is the this the way people living
here suppose to be?

This is the way we are going though
this life by eye ball to eye ball left to
right. like the sun in the morning and moon
at night. Blind to each other now that
can't be right

Human beings were made to love one another
they made to live and share with each other
But what we have on earth today. Makes me
wonder what God would say?

Sexy body, sexy cloths, sexy eyes,
sexy nose. Sexy pants, sexy dress,
sexy guys and women are the best.
Sexy bars ,sexy dolls sexy homes,
with sexy cars.


Sexy voice, sexy walk, sexy talk,
sexy face Sexy feet, sexy eyes, sexy laugh,
sexy bubbles in the bath, sexy smiles,
sexy names sexy toys and sexy games.


Sexy shoes, sexy toes, sexiness
everywhere you go. over here over there
sexiness everywhere. As if sexiness was
the destiny of the soul. As if that's
mankinds gold. Almost puts me in a trance
I feel like doing my sexy dance.


All this sexiness that I see kind of makes
me uneasy. Now I really hate to be rude.
But most sexy things end up getting
screwed

Eyes half shut
the dense warm air
hanging
could be my net
around my bed
protecting me
arching beautifully
like an elegant veil
curtaining me from harm.

I can almost taste
the
cool musk, heat and cooking
seeping through cracks
of dirty
sturdy walls.

The sound of a
drum beat, a guitar
of singing and chanting,
Laughter
and speeding bicycles.

Half asleep
alone in my bed
in a cold and unremarkable
corner of England,
this feeling of hazy sleepiness
and unreality,
could be contentment
and peace.
Some nights I sleep in Africa again.

[B]





See how rich you are houses, stocks, and bonds
and cars, wearing the finest and riches a clothes
given you reason to stick up your nose.


But let me tell you now that’s not the way the story goes.
look at your toes, smell the air in your nose. That's not the
way the story goes.

"The Revolution"

For: Sensai

There was a time
When a violent revolution seemed a practical solution
To society's empty resolution, a way to cure the devolution
But I see now with new eyes, humanity only postponed it's evolution

The world is on it's way down
Way, way, down, this world hits the ground
Crashing like a crystal ornament
I liken this to the bottom, "Build here!," we cry.

The constant scheme of getting more to store
To feed the animal inside with it's hungry eyes
This is necessity, because the world that feels so empty
The world and it's transciency, never was a tradegy

Just a necessity, so let it be
It all comes to a crucial end
At which point a new revolution
A Positive Solution
Something that starts within

Propagates a way beyond present comprehension
Compassion without violence
This will restore reverence
To a manifestation of perpetual destruction

Like goes to like
Violence breeds violence
Warfare breeds warfare
The bombs you build breed the building of more bombs

My only guarantee is that this field of animalistic energy will exhaust itself
And left will be a point of decision...

“When the innocence of a child is no more-humanity is worthless”.
The young will turn on their elders in anger at their failure…

…And the earth will inherit a vengeful seed
Content in need- inspired by greed,
Self importance taught, will return to haunt
The elders; their ‘morals’ the reason to taunt.
Who holds the power now you are the meek?
Locked up, boxed in- no freedom to speak!
You’ve reaped what you sowed
Now as you grow old
We’ll regret you- disrespect you,
Destroy and then forget you.
So listen up quick (our opinion matters)
Or both our worlds could end up in tatters.”

Yonder dark night
subtle And yet so loud
wide open Hands to the world
with soft touch, With soft soul
held hands with this Earth, worlds open
eyes true looking once at Heaven’s earth.


As i stare at these faces
and Lovely different colors
understood Lies fade to truth
and the hidden Anger dies out
all born from the Hidden lies of doctrine.


Just human sincerity and truth
and Every inch of the human soul
precision of Happiness is honesty
and i glance at you Over a distance
are you not part of my Very touch?
are you not my truth untold Again?
or perhaps your doctrine births our Hate.


Good, bad, blasphemy and faith
it’s All a bit redundant, isn’t it?
you lie In all i am
And all you Are lies in me.

She has always been here as far as I know,
Her silent footfalls on the path meaning hope,
Her compassion saving lives,
Always she has been there to lend a hand with a birthing
Or a pain stricken soul writhing on the floor.

Even though she is so kindly,
There is a shadow in her eye,
A mystery in her soul.

She keeps to herself
Avoiding the population of the town,
Unless help is needed,
Living alone in a small cottage apart.

She once had a daughter they say,
Moved away and got married I suppose.
There was never talk of a husband.

I have wondered if he left her here,
Discarded her like an old boot
The poor soul.

I know not who wronged her,
But I know she hath been wronged.
Wronged deeply
Deep enough to wound her stricken soul beyond repair.

if i said dear brother

here, take my shirt

and i'll take all your pain

and i'll take all your hurt

if icalled it even

called a fair trade

would anyone else do the same, for me?



hold on dear sister

please take my hand

i promise to listen

do all that i can

i know you don't need a lover

or a permanent man

just someone who understands, like me.



mother oh mother

come save your son

i'm being chased by

the things that i've done

they're starting to bite me

and nip at my heels

and these flames are all that i feel, in me.



father oh father

teach me to be a man

because i've strayed away

from the things that you had planned

oh i coming home now

broken by this land

please, i need you to stand, by me

fears aparent all around
people falling to the ground
guns go off
children cry
you turn to god
and ask him why
he can't help you
wouldn't if he could
so help yourself
your neighbourhood

We are the prisoners,
Dwell in the cycles,
We are frightened to peep,
Peer out of them.
What a strange experience it is!
To journey in the rings,
We stop wherefrom we begin,
Journeying not a single inch,
Like an ox rounding the persian wheel
With the bandage upon the eyes.

When we are trapped in the cycles,
They become the whole universe,
The ensnared spend the whole life,
Amid the troubles,
Deployed around the ring.

It is tragedy of the age, so-called modern,
We all have fixed ourselves,
Our minds and thoughts in the cycles,
And dare not peek out afar,
Into the calamities of others,
Dwelling in other circular zones.

I'm not black and you are not white.
I am brown and you are light.
No wonder people fight who are called
black and white. The reason is it's
just not right.

Simply put, it's a lie, and unreal truth
As time goes by, grown people calling each
other names.like children in a school yard
Playing games. Causing each other unnecessary
Pain.

Life is not about the color of your skin.
It's about the skin you're living in.
It's about how you feel, and how words
keep the truth real.

There are problems, there is no doubt, but
the case of black and white should be thrown
Out. There's enough for us to do, instead of
you picking on me picking on you.

Defined words as they are. Truth is not found
At the bar. Truth is found when words are
Right. The truth is I'm not black and you're
not white. Lies only make people fight.

Eternally the optimist,
A brimming cup;
my imagination is reality.
I see kind hearts underneath
layers
of brutality.
Idealist maybe, not naïve,
Never naïve.
Reams of memories that
make me stronger -
build me up not break me down;
Piles of unfinished novels
tattered and forgotten,
masterpieces singularly...
(not evidence of failure.)
To love is to live.
Alone is to learn.
To hurt is to grow.
All this I know

and yet I am
positively
stunted.



no matter how much sugar you put on your cornflakes, they will never taste like frosties...

The camp smells of death,
cause through training many die,
broken spirits taught not to live for themselves,
but for their country,
shown how to hold a gun,
rather than solve a math sum,
because chances are--thats all they will ever know...
and through their death,
we are told that we`re free,
and the soldiers name--scribbled on a 25 dollar stone,
paid by the same government who killed them,
their lives were worth 25 dollars...
their helmet 6,
their rifle 20,
but their will--priceless,
because to know,
even subconciously,
that today is your day of death,
it takes a will beyond a free man to accept...
these soldiers are enslaved,
and beaten and shaped,
in order to make us free,
patriotic?
nooo...stupid,
for the free man is never the one fighting the war...
if only king Solomon could see us now,
mabey we could have finally created,
a question he could not answer...
R.I.F. slaves of the nation,
R.I.Freedom...because we never deserved it.

The clouds hung dark and heavy on this sad November day
and the fog rolled in so thick it colored everything in gray.
Their hearts hung by a string of hope time was wearing thin
and they all kneeled on the dock praying the ship came in.

Husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons, all were in the crew
of a freighter that sailed too heavy and now was overdue.
All the men were seasoned and they knew the dangers well,
but this gale was a monster and the lake turned into hell.

When the families were finally told some fell down to weep,
others called out to God their loved one's souls to keep.
The strings that held their hearts had finally snapped in two
and no longer held the hope it could just be overdue.

Twenty-nine souls had perished, not one soul could be saved,
nor could one be buried for the lake had marked their grave.
They held service praising memories of all the crew's brave men
then went home to grieve and pray better days begin.

Lake Superior is a fickle mistress great men have tried to claim,
she's prone to fits of violent rage, but lovely when she's tame.
She draws her men with promises of Godspeed and gentle sails,
but take heed of her ire and wrath when winter sends it's gales.



*Inspired by Gordon Lightfoot's song, "The Wreck Of The
Edmund Fitzgerald"

You well know, i never asked to be the way that I am,
As none of us are,
Yet I feel aggrieved that I am not accomplishing what would make me a person,
A content, rational human being ,
Where substance of conversation dominates over artificial, short-lived claptrap,
Where sleep is but an infliction on the most irreverent of subjects,
And where the sun remains the umbilical cord of my existence,
Unfortunately, anywhere but here seems to be my catchcry,
Yearning for the green grass over that fence,
Why is its lustre more poignant that mine?
It’s the nature of the other side.

In this
The time of youthful Spring
We feel the earth breathing softly,
Easily, and we crave this serenity
We want our lives to be like perfect flowers
But life is too full of mud
We can't grasp such perfect Spring
And we wouldn't touch it if we could.

Must I succumb to
another fainting spell
to enlarge my view of revelling madness
Giving into your nothingness
Perhaps to overcome
The trivials, the insincerity that
Dominates this world like a virus
ego-self-plastic-facade-self-hatred
annihilation, succumb, succumb to
Overcome

Okay, I'll be you're Übermench

the rats in transit
they come, coffins row by row
led to the centre of the
universe to fill the aisles
with the dead
wel come
from the cities
how expected the crowds
did fill
their shoes
fill the city of the dead
sinners
at the
mouth
still fill the
city of the dead
you fill the city
of the dead
crowd
and
corpse
laugh
chew and swallow

They've poisoned our minds and bodies
for far to long
Brothers and sister its time
Band together and lets fight

How do they know
whats best for me and you
when they are only acting
to protect their pockets

Too long have we set idle
and watched as they destory
this place we call home
Time to take a stand

They claim to protect us
But here we lay in rags
only dreaming of the life
that the rich take for granted
as they denounce our existence

If we are truly created equal
why is that my dreams equal
only a fraction of what they have
I am not asking for the world
Only for a chance to live my life

Each step forward I take
they push me back even farther
With minds that change like weather
so does their agenda
How am I ever supposed to get ahead

Peace in our world is a myth
Conflict is our world
Will they never learn
We will be who we are
And not who they want us to be

Lo! Who is being down loaded,
From the ambulance,
Covered with the bed sheet,
All spotted with blood,
And now tossing for life?
Her swollen belly portends,
That it contains a pre-born babe.
Oh! They tell she has been shot,
By her husband: the crown of head,
For not affording,
The substance for drink;
She was spared no more,
Though six children she bore.

Lo! Who has been brought,
Lying on the cot,
All scratched, nailed,
Bitten and torn,
As if the dogs,
Have exercised well their skill,
In the same way,
When they prey upon the deer?
Oh! They say she was raped,
By the men twelve,
They let loose appetite,
Of their bestial nature,
They always remained unpunished,
In the plagued system.
Now the cameramen zoom around,
For the public display,
To rag her remaining honour,
And a few men of law,
With the heavy round bellies,
Move helplessly.

Lo! Who has been brought,
Wrapped in a blanket,
With singed, burnt face,
Too horrible to see,
Shreds from her arms,
Are lurking loose,
Making the bones naked,
Yet she breathes,
Huffing like a furnace,
Her eyes exhibit,
Display a state of horror?
Oh! They tell she was burnt,
For restraining, preventing,
The husband: the guardian,
From fourth love marriage.

Everything is good at least we still got our health
Please don't rob somebody else
Stop looking for instant wealth
Stop thinking that we won't make it believe in your self

I know were all healthy but I can't stand to see us living in poverty
I believe in me as much as Christians believe in the trinity
But watching my kids suffering to find something to eat is killing me

Don't stress you self daddy if something was to happen to you we'll be living sadly
I know the money is calling thee
And it seems like its the only thing that can set us free
But what will we do if we where to lose you to the penitentiary
Or even if the if we lost you permanently

Don't worry son everything will work out
If I do this according to plan I won't get caught
I've been living in the streets so I can get away with my bare feet
If somebody is on my tail I can easily scare them with my heat
Then I am going to buy you and the rest the rest of the family treats

Dad I don't want anything I just want you to listen
Stop thinking the way you're thinking
All I want you to do is think like a true Muslim
I want you to start hoping turn the situation over to Allah and enter submission
I want you to be buried as a righteous man I don't want your corpse to be stinking

But son you just don't see my plan
Its for your own good God understand
I am only doing this so you can have a little change in your hand
This is the only way I can get money on this land
I have to do this son... I have to rob that bank

All I want is to have a father for another day
Please dad don't leave I want you to stay
{Son!}
But... but..., May go be with you, that's all I can say
Since you already made up your mind to commit a crime




( Epilogue )

Now I have to move work in order for the family to survive
Oh how I wish my dad was still alive

Oh! God, bless me and all,
The world is quite changed into,
The flaming thorny wilderness.
My eyes can see no more,
These false puppet shows;
And rising all around the fire,
Of jealousy and mincing hate.

All men and women of the world,
Move confounded in extra-haste,
Obsessed by their own interests;
Heedless towards the needy fellows.
Crying to be rescued out of
The marshes and mud of troubles;
Splintered, Sunk knee deep.

The cries melt my heart,
That languishes in warm drops,
Weeps and moans in silence;
And emerges a prayer from
The deep unexplored recesses,
Of the palpitating organ;
And whispers to me its intent,
“Oh! God, Bless me and all,
As I intend to change, the world,
The flaming thorny wilderness,
Into flowery, fragrant zone of Eden.

This skin on skin contact
creates a friction to
produce heat that is
almost as hot as the
flames of passion in
the fireplace of our eyes.
One spark took fire
and now we are
burning alive
in our very own skin.
Melting points are
being exceeded
and as the mercury
bursts out of the top
of the thermometer
I fall back into
a smokey recollection
of scratchy wool blankets
and your arms embrace.