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I slid a knife across my stomach Before a wide-eyed tribe, They spoke among themselves In rapid whispers I set the blade aside And unraveled In pulsing shades of red, They recoiled from the truth So I bled out and spoiled In open display, Draining To the rapid fire of gossip Distressed No one wrestled…
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To die in her constricting arms Is a fate I’d accept; Loosening my grip On this ill-fated rock To die Again and again At her command Would send death’s true nature Away from my mind At least For a while
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Originally posted on Raja's Insight: Black chariots scream on end And choke every road To uphold and dispose Bloodshed is forgotten In the waft of broad stripes A beacon held high So coveted in dreams abroad In the hold of broad stripes Are diminished young hearts Where they’re molded in grime In our vise of…
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A tremendous weight Has cracked my spine in two; A gift From the open And mischievous skies I’m fused to the ground, Filling daybreak with curses, With the unspent slurs Of a passive lifetime This mindless weight Has no need for revenge It falls indiscriminate, Welding full-lives in place
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The final bridge prevailed Over tumbling white smoke, Sent out in a blast Around its concrete legs Still it rose, Unchanged By the villainous blaze As shells buried the cries Of crusaders amassed, From every selfless port, Sprawled beneath the stars They swarmed Defying, the wheeze and crack Of fanatical bullets And their guardian stood…
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I have no roots, They were severed By an onslaught of time In the years I’ve bled away, Within a vise-grip of panic
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A timeless enemy Has planted its roots in my skull, Leaving unsettled scores To chase out civility It was born long ago In someone’s bitter cold youth, To be spat out At the first sign of prey It has chased out my worth; The name of my ancestral home With a symphony of crazed bloodhounds
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I caught a ledge, Mid free-fall And an upswell of joy Urged me to fight For a second wind
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My home breaks off into fragments Whenever I race through the door From the rabid snarls of a mob, Hopelessly ill, with their inborn hate
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Boom-bap rescues me, From idle time’s racing chatter As the nation, berates itself It’s a lyrical refuge; A haven, overlooking past struggles That bleed into mine It found me long ago On a quiet back-road As I fled a lost war It will find me again When I have had my fill Of this uphill…
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