Precursors

where red roses lie

lay i

gazing into the night

until the air rippled like water

through a visage to see my reflection

reflective of who I really am

and all that I miss

what I – Miss Information gives out

and what she holds back

 

 

Of all the frenzied masses gathered

shouting their woes

for none other but the wails of the political religion

my heart cries out for the life force alone

not the politics

nor the correctness of virtues

such as dogs who only dream not of color

Of delegates who prefer an invention of grey

because it masks the sharpness of skintones

 

 

Piercing vulgarities in the dead of night

a light show of prearranged delight

delight none other than the blind

delight them asunder for the gates open

and we wouldn’t want them to see what was really going on

instead its arranged that they’ll tear each other apart

from the inside out

and when Yama draws a circle on Kashmir

it only fades to dust

but as the gnostics of old

whose far fetched descendants are delivered to penalty

and not justice

let it be them under a witch hunt

to preoccupy the “good followers”

 

 

Give me an inch to breathe

it gives me a few more feet to believe

things will swing back into action

for those of us who keep secrets by day

and hold services by the late hour light

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