Ivory Tower
The system is not broken…
The system is not broken
It is working as designed
Break the 99 all so
One can build with their bones
a polished ivory tower
to feel like a
God King
the funny thing about towers,
it doesn’t matter how tall one is
destroy the foundation they rely upon
and
it
all
Falls
Never Again
so I say “Never Again”…
Gotta get back on my feet
Though I know not how or when
The first step is to retreat
With a firm “never again”
I left you for a reason
But you return now and then
Don’t make it feel like treason
When I say “never again”
You can alter your form
Ever since I turned ten
But this can’t be the norm
So I say “never again”
My shield is the paper
My sword is the pen
Your name becomes vapor
As I scream “never again”
From the high mountaintop
To the bottom of the glen
One less hurdle to hop
Now that it’s “never again”
A Benevolent God
He’s a benevolent god, you say
He’s a Benevolent God, you say.
He’s going to help us poor and downtrodden
With His passion and warmth.
And yet, you condemn the many who need the most
Because they do not fit His desired image.
He’s a Benevolent God, you say.
He’s going to protect the young and the innocent
From the vilest of souls.
And yet, you casually cast them to the flames
While hiding burnt matches and kerosene in His name.
He’s a Benevolent God, you say.
He’s going to unite us all now and forever
In His Glorious Kingdom.
And yet, you eagerly burn bridges and family trees
To gather kindling for His Holy Fire.
He’s a Benevolent God, you say.
I am one of His faithful chosen, and He
Will never hurt me.
And yet, His eyes have turned upon you
For you are all that’s left standing in the rubble of His making.
He’s a Benevolent God, you say.
Wait.
The Nature of the Machine
this cold unfeeling, undying machine
An old man, so frail and so small
Whose boss did call
Told to climb up in the air
Forced to repair
This cold, unfeeling, undying machine
“Don’t forget to polish the cogs until they shine like pearl”
So focused on his task, he failed to hear the whirl
of the gears that oh so swiftly rendered bone to dust
Fearing that the gears will rust
The boss sends another man up to clean
This cold, unfeeling, undying machine
These Beautiful Chains
You were once made of rope, then iron, then steel
You were once made of rope
Then iron, then steel
Eventually your masters made you abstract
Make-believe numbers that deny people
Loans, homes, and more
Even if they are within budget
You may be renamed and reshaped
every few generations
But no matter how lovely you are painted
with the colors of the cosmos
you are still designed to bind me
Even beautiful chains are still
the tool of the oppressor.
Escape
“This place is held up by chains”
Ekphrastic, inspired by “Escape” by Alex Yamada
“This place is held up by chains”
“Well of course it is! Every platform needs support, or else everything will come tumbling down!”
“But chains!”
“There is nothing beneath us. Without the chains, we will fall.”
“What does it mean the chains are attached to us”
“What else could it mean besides we need the chains?”
“It seems more like to me the chains need us. Did you notice there’s a door?”
“A door? No. There is nothing here but us and the chains and the floor it holds up.”
“You’re not looking hard enough. See, right over there? You can almost see a crack of light shining through.”
“Oh. I do see it now. But what does it matter? We can’t go towards the door. The chains keep us held here and as we’ve already discussed we need the chains to hold up this floor!”
“But why? Why won’t the chains let us go to the door?”
“That’s how chains work, silly!”
“It’s almost as if the chains don’t want us to go. Why wouldn’t they want us to go?”
“I don’t know. You said the chains need us? Maybe that’s why. Because without us, the platform will fall.”
“What do you think is on the otherside of that door?”
“I couldn’t even begin to guess. This room with the chains is all we’ve known. Isn’t that good enough?”
“What if the other side of the door is better?”
“What if it is worse?”
“We won’t know unless we go through that door.”
“But when we do, the chains will slip and the platform will fall. We will never be able to return to this room which has become so familiar. And if the other side is worse, we may want to return.”
“But aren’t you tired of the chains? Day in, day out, holding up these chains so that the floor beneath our feet will remain?”
“We have no choice.”
“We do have a choice! We can abandon this room and go through the door and see what’s on the other side! We can’t pretend we can hold these chains forever. That our arms will never run out of strength and slip and drop the chains. And when we do, we’ll be too tired to run to the door. Let’s go now! While we still have strength left.”
“I’m scared.”
“It’s okay to be. But let’s do it anyway.”
War of the Mind
Conflict lives within us all
Conflict lives within us all. It cannot be escaped. It cannot be reasoned with. It must be fought, root and stem. The enemy? Yourself. The one who knows you best. The one who knows just how to hurt you the most. The one who will never relent until they have taken you over. Battles will be lost. Triumphs will be had. Though we may heal from injury, things will never be the same. We may know peace in our lifetime, but war will always remain a constant. A warrior does not turn their blade upon themselves when the battle is lost. They fight to the bitter end. Until they can no longer will themselves forward. Not everyone is a warrior but we are summoned to fight all the same. Comrades fall. Love is lost. You are besieged on all sides. Things look bad, but as long as there is breath in your lungs, electric coursing through your brain, and life in your body, there is always a way to win.
But what a beautiful thing the battlefield is sometimes. Anything can happen in this delicate life. You could survive. You could not. You could have it all, then lose it a moment later. There is no end to the possibilities. But regardless, you lived, and come what may, nothing can take that away.
My Thumb is a Blood Red Marker
My life is moving fast, but the world is in slow motion
My life is moving fast
But the world is in slow motion.
My chest breaks open,
Reveals the bloodied branch
Of an olive tree.
Eyes averted, voices hushed,
While boots are dirtied, skulls are crushed.
Another leaf falls beneath.
Here I stand at the gates.
No pearls, no gold, no end in sight,
Only barbed wire and towers surveil.
The machined man hates that we see,
Not what we see.
Pliers for fingers, aiming for eyes,
Crunching my bones in my defense.
Now my right thumb is gone,
But at least I have my left.
The sun goes down, the flags go up
He squeezes my hand to fill his cup.
His very own caffeine.
What could this all mean?
We are lined imperfectly
Ambiguously
Miraculously
Paralleled and perceiving this nightmare gate.
We turn to one another and back again.
We seek the solace and hand of a friend.
We know what we must do.
We love You.
I press my bare bone onto the stone.
My thumb is a blood red marker.
I scream in spite as I swipe to the right
And then down towards the center.
I swipe back up and to the left,
A shortened but sweetened love letter.
I hope that my curdled blood
Will cover every world's screen.
You have some catching up to do,
Don't you?
Through this triangle, my life drains
A portal to a new life splits open.
Through my blood, I see your face.
Welcome to the race.
My left hand reaches yours and I pull,
Your heels dig, then they give.
I'm sorry.
We no longer have a choice.
We need you to use your voice.
Memorized lyrics, unison, fiery throats
You may not know the words yet, comrade
But You will.
All that We ask is to listen and learn.
To raise Your voice with Ours.
You are a part of We are a part of They are a part of Her.
Mother Earth. Divine Feminine. Our womb.
We betray Ourselves, a forlorn creature
Unknowing or uncaring of Her demise.
Can you hear Her cries?
Listen and bleed and ritualize with Us
So the world may catch on.
Elbow in arm, We plant along the gate,
With song, We shout Their decadence
We know now We can no longer wait.
Long live the resistance.
We will free our people crying,
Or we will die trying.
Never Again
I feel like I’m in for some better days
Better days
I feel like I’m in for some better days
It’s about time we went our separate ways
Ruined too many of my yesterdays
Get away
And never again will I run to you
And not even when we’re both something new
And never again am I coming through
Never again
I feel it coming now, let me run it down
Spent too long building walls, I’m all fronted out
And as the thunder pounds in another town
Strung along, pitting falls ‘till I’m underground
I’m not gonna deal with your shit anymore
I am not a fucking toy you get at the store
You’re a zero, but you think you’re number one
Don’t expect to hear from me when it’s said and done
And never again will I run to you
And not even when we’re both something new
And never again am I coming through
Never again
Let’s not waste each other’s time
You will not infect my mind
Consider this your goodbye
I’m moving on with my life
Mother Nature Will Kill Us All Someday, and I Don’t Blame Her for It
generation after generation, we took from Gaia
Ekphrastic inspired by “To the Light” by Robin Rose Graves
Generation after generation
We took from Gaia
We planted our skyscrapers, where forests once stood
We fractured her skin to dig for crude oil
We killed everything she gave us
Not always for food,
Always for profit
Generation after generation
After generation
We filled her oceans with our trash
Our shit, our poison
One day, she had enough
Gaia began to plant her roots
in us
Drain our blood
Drink our bone marrow
To feed herself
To take from the takers
Until none were left
We should have expected this
someday, after all
we coined the phrase
“The first law of nature,
Kill or be killed”
Risen
do not try to silence us
Do not try to silence us.
Every day, the mute will speak.
New words form on humble lips,
Yet thunder across mountains.
Do not try to swindle us.
Every day, the blind will see.
Find your facts revealed as forgeries amongst
Endless fears and insecurities.
Never doubt the curiosity of a
Determined mind.
Do not try to kill us.
Every day, the dead will breathe.
Pity the hatred that creates a martyr:
Our blood becomes armor, broken bones weapons.
Shield not your eyes when you find our tombs empty.
Every day, we are risen.