playing by the rules…

life’s full of carnival games
players following the rules
end up
spending more
than the prize is worth

 

your privacy….

dear sir
or
madam
we deeply regret
to
inform you
that
your child
has been sold
into
slavery
we’re certain
that
your offspring
appreciates
your every effort
to shield
and
shelter them
from
this most
inevitable fate
but
as you
may not know
government agencies
are quite capable
of
monitoring
and
recording
all aspects
of
human communication
note
our
propensity
to
detect
even
the slightest
electronic impulses
see article
regarding
voyager2 space probe
as
an example
of
what we can do
with
surveillance
when
we put
our minds
to
it
or
you
might want
to
look at
those marvelous
satellite images
which
clearly indicate
we can see
even
the time
on
your watch
or
the text
of
the book
you’re
currently reading
however
we will
continue
to
support
you delusion
of
privacy
by
limiting
what photographs
can be
taken
by
non-governmental professionals
as part
of
some artistic statement
or
attempt to document
society
with
that in mind
you can be assured
that
photographs
of
your child’s enslavement
and
location
will not be
revealed
to
anyone

 

the road…

god forsaken trail
through the year’s barren terrain
after a night’s rest
we’ll awaken and stare out
finding that same road waiting

 

ain’t nothing to see here…

just dead body piles
oh you may know some of them
but the president
bets you’ll forget them if paid
so how much does your soul cost

 

please no jokes before the funeral…

laughter is healing
so searched for lighthearted words
but began to think
what is there to laugh about
nation’s got one foot in grave

 

how freedom’s lost…

most folks take notice
when a small dog makes a fuss
but the hounds of hell
arrive unannounced no sounds
silently taking a soul

 

survival subroutines…

those human actions
evolved over a lifetime
as a response to
those who have had white privilege
developed to sustain dreams

 

racial integration…

have you noticed that
the colors of gravestones change
soon their all the same

 

in due time…

truth always survives
is what i believed but found
that was just a myth
a story for the hopeless
offered in place of justice

 

another laundry day…

child
ain’t nobody
gonna
wash
your laundry
those stains
have been
on
your bed sheets
for
years
and
as much as
you’d like
they
ain’t
no
turin shroud
looks
more to me
like
the face
of
a dying nation
outlined
in the blood
of
its
fringe
citizens
but
you do as you wish
add
some more
bleach
to
make it
as
white
as
snow
just like
you’ve done
everytime
that stain
for
freedom
reappears