Adam, a brown old vulture in the rain,
Shivered below his wind-whipped olive-trees;
Huddling sharp chin on scarred and scraggy knees,
He moaned and mumbled to his darkening brain;
‘He was the grandest of them all was Cain!
‘A lion laired in the hills, that none could tire:
‘Swift as a stag: a stallion of the plain,
‘Hungry and fierce with deeds of huge desire.’
Grimly he thought of Abel, soft and fair
As I lie at rest on a patch of clover
In the Western Park when the day is done.
I watch as the wild black swans fly over
With their phalanx turned to the sinking sun;
And I hear the clang of their leader crying
To a lagging mate in the rearward flying,
And they fade away in the darkness dying,
Where the stars are mustering one by one.
O ye wild black swans, 'twere a world of wonder
For a while to join in your westward flight,
I come from a musical place
Where they shoot me for my song
And my brother has been tortured
By my brother in my land.
I come from a beautiful place
Where they hate my shade of skin
They don't like the way I pray
And they ban free poetry.
O dear little cabin, I've loved you so long,
And now I must bid you good-bye!
I've filled you with laughter, I've thrilled you with song,
And sometimes I've wished I could cry.
Your walls they have witnessed a weariful fight,
And rung to a won Waterloo:
But oh, in my triumph I'm dreary to-night --
Good-bye, little cabin, to you!
Your roof is bewhiskered, your floor is a-slant,
He was my best and oldest friend.
I'd known him all my life.
And yet I'm sure towards the end
He knew I loved his wife,
And wonder, wonder if it's why
He came so dreadfully to die.
He drove his car at racing speed
And crashed into a tree.
How could he have so little heed?
She told him "I hate you," but he took it as a joke
Her smile was deceiving and her voice was relieving
He only saw an angel with a figure like an eight
And never bothered to take note of her repeated joke
He told her, " Look, I love you—I'll take a blow for you."
But she looked at him smiling as if his words were untrue
Yes, I know, but I still hate you because that is what I do
Again, he waved, but this time those words came sinking through
I see you working, defending me, and fighting for me
You think you kill me with your hateness. You hate murderously; in blood, in humanity.
Your poison has no place in our society.
The venom that seeps from your mouth have always been heard but will not pierce through and kill me.
Is it faith or fear? Is it your submission to a deity or one to your community?
Are you listening to the valid speech of god or the invalid words of your closest enemies......those opportunists, tearing your daughters. Those women with compassion, resilience, love and ambition.
Staring at the hurricane in my home
I just stand still
what could an 8-year-old do.
Except stand and watch in fear.
My dad would throw things at everyone
You feckless fool...
This is a voodoo spell
To make you drool...
The voodoo priestess
Of New Orleans...
Will remove your wickedness
By any means...
Locking my door before escaping to a blanket fortress
where a Gameboy waits beneath my pillow
helping me ignore the calamity from the rooms beyond.
Mother’s second husband,
whose fingernails find purchase in her neck
draining the stars from her veins.
Transparent and plastic, I tremble
tracing the shapes over and over unaware