hope resists …
pain surrounds, closes in,
encircles raw wounds,
picks at scabs,
freshly coagulated,
while stubborn, impertinent, brash, young, ancient hope,
persists,
resists,
as it has,
&
as it shall!
Archive for November 26, 2015
the cycle of hate …
reeking of venom,
soaked in the stench of rage,
still, silent, prowling,
lying in wait, to pounce,
maul, go for the jugular,
snap, sink teeth into,
then, of course,
allow the hapless prey to bleed out, then consume,
and naturally,
expel …
to be continued … … …
Humanity ?
Us men,
almost always,
men,
myopic, impotent men,
our manliness oozing, seeping,
dripping,
soaking,
in swathes of red,
scarlet blood on infant skin,
hardened,
caked,
dried on cold, dead flesh.
Who am i,
a man,
myopic, impotent,
my swagger puffed on conceit,
my country right or wrong,
my god not yours,
my culture your caste,
tribe, sect, ideology … … …
Who am i ?
a man ?
knitted into,
shared humanity ?
Perhaps ’tis time,
to let this rotten, festering,
glossy, botoxed, tucked, trimmed, diseased skin,
moult,
laying stark this sham,
this theatre,
these lies, the maggots burrowing deep,
into man,
chiselling, smashing,
beheading, hanging,
shooting, bombing, drone-ing, killing, raping, torturing, killing, killing, killing,
excising man,
ripping man out of humanity.
Yes,
i am man.
Scribbled Verse 