deception…

deception

a sliding scale
from
poisonous politeness
to
grand larceny
nations
unwilling
to
look
into
their own mirror
for fear
the reflection
will
show
their true self
the deep
festering scars
of
injustice
the blood shot eyes
of
drunken power politics
and
the cancerous
rotting
flesh
of
freedom
so
it’s been
decided
to
replace
all
the mirrors
with
hand painted
mythical
portraits
of
nonexistent
nations
found only
in
panglossian pages
of
history

 

 

unused bus tokens…

unused bus tokens

ain’t
nobody
at
the back of the bus
we’ve
decided
to
walk
to
hell
rather
than ride
cuz’
if we ride
we’ve
got to pay
to be
sharecroppers
of
existence
besides that
we’ll
get to hell
that
much faster
than
if we’d
walked
so
we’ve
decided
to
walk to hell
don’t
make no difference
how
soon
we get there
what
awaits us
is
always
the same
a game
where
we’re
always
given
the short side
of
the field
to
play
with
rules
written
in
our blood
that
express
a whimsical
notion
of
equality
but
clearly
convey
that
we can’t win
so
no need
to
hurry
that’s why we’ve
decided
to
walk
to
hell

just talk to the hand….

just talk to the hand

please
don’t say
those words
again
about
us
all getting along
because
we can’t
hell
even lovers
can’t
do that
so
why
do we pretend
that
the embedded
rebars
of
ignorance
and
hate
can be chiseled
from
centuries
of
layered
contrived history
each
previous
attempt
has been
paved over
with
more
hatred
and
fabricated
reasons
to
fear
others
that
are
not understood
nor
acknowledged
for
that matter
so
please
do not
bother me
with
can’t we
all
just
get along

 

 

when vision fails…

when vision fails

what’s
before us
seems less
clear
the details
like
the truth
cannot be
distinguished
from
what
is hidden
in
lies’ shadows
those
words
between
the words
said
that are
so easily confused
with
reality
for
most disciples
of
tykhe
desire
that
their
beliefs
are
the gospel truth
though
most often
they
are not
rather
they’re
a convenient tool
for
political salesmen
to use
to
sell their snake oils
seems like
carnivals
have not
really
gone
out of style
in
the political circus
public schmucks
continue
to toss
balls of dollars
at
leaded kewpie dolls
that only fall
when
the peddler’s bank account
has reached
a stage
of
overflowing
or
the poor sap
is
about
to walk
away
before
their pockets
have been
fleeced
completely
to
fund
an undeserved
retirement
for
personal
public
service
at
which point
the only one
needing
a white cane
is
the public

the smell…

the smell...

i’m not sure
why i didn’t notice
it before
perhaps
the window
was partially opened
and
i must
have been closer
to
the window
so
the stench
went
unnoticed
but
i’ve heard
others
speak
of
it
but
i was certain
for awhile
that
they were
quite
mistaken
but
now
the smell
is
totally
oppressive
putrid smells
of
a slaughterhouse
bends
my body
to
the ground
as
i retched
when
i realize
that
in
the darkness
of
these
last few years
it was
the smell
of
the rotting corpse
of
freedom

a child’s play…

a child's play

let’s play a game
of
pretend
you pretend
with
a sincere stare
that you
truly care
about
the problems
of
others
their welfare
and
rights
to make
independent choices
under
the mantle
of
freedom
and as part
of
this dolos script
let’s
have you say
that race
and
social status
have nothing
to do
with
what you’ve proposed
say
you’re
merely
protecting
against voter fraud
and
only have justice
as
the center piece
of
your policies
oh
and let’s throw in
that
political ambition
and
power
are not
the stimuli
for
the actions
and
threats
that
you’ve made
those heavy handed measures
are
to defend
freedom
it’s
really
not
fascist
and i’ll pretend
that all you
say
and
do
isn’t
just about
you

invented justice…

GettyImages-514693420

Getty Image

there can be no doubt
a marketing miracle
has been created
oppressors are now claiming
the oppressed are tyrants
so real oppressors
have used a bunch of new laws
designed to assure
that those who have been oppressed
remain bonded to their will
a simple process
using disinformation
as a legal veil
essential truth distorted
power is all that matters

ancient bones speak…

ancient bones speak

i lie here
among
severed spines
from
lynchings
and
shattered skulls
from
clubs and shotgun blasts
so
i’ve grown tired
of
all the rhetoric
all
the promises
written
on
the wind
words
i’ve heard
over
and
over
and
over
again
words
that are
no more
than
sterile seeds
so
i’ve learned
there will be no
harvest
of
freedom
for
only the chaff
of hope
has been planted
into
the cracking clay
of
tomorrow
the husk
of
dreams
left there
along side
these
blood stained
bones
of
mine

 

don’t need google translate…

don't need google translate

sorry cousin
something we would say
without
any hostility
in
our voice
but
the tone
of the message
was
quite clear
and
quickly translated
as
that shit
ain’t
gonna happen
but
now days
phrases
are
more
cloaked
in
the fine linen
of
political words
but
our youth
has made us
more
sensitive
to
the underlying
real
message
so
when you say
these things take time
we hear
sorry cousin