The spirits be damned
While I scream what is on my mind.
May they grant me eloquence and ignore
My disobedience. Grant me the words
That scholars struggle to command. And in
My address you, who observe, will be servant to these lines
That Will your duress; force you to demand
Intellect and attention, force your dear mind to be mine.
I speak of matters at hand, love that denies and knowing
That cries. History in tatters and fame that blinds. I speak of
Time in earthly limbo, no saviour comes to the jungle,
No jungle exists, merely metal and smoke that jumble
And confuse the able from their road to freedom.
The rumble has passed, crumbled to leave only bare living.
The struggle has denied and replaced the tethering mumbo as living
A dance in the dance lost because steps are a hand guide away.
Experience is a long way away and the truth is;
Knowledge and truth are not the same.
Steady the beating hearts that rock the frames,
The one’s with hatred of pasts too old to blame. To them I say; aim your spears,
Your immortal moral vengeance, at mortals long dead. Aboriginals,
Long gone bid you Allo, greeting and adieu from graves long since
Scarred by dew.
To those weighed by yesterday’s mistakes I kiss your cheeks,
I weep and then I leave. I grieve but then I leave, so
You long for my absent nature, and leave behind the day
You hate, for days with me.
To those who live by scripture; by the testimonies
Of Jesus man and The Man of the Eid,
Or by men who reached the end and left dairies as aide,
To you I bid safe journey. For the man who lives by prescribed standard
Has courage and valour, to chase the image of man who lived his own
Standard, to live by sold standard.
I end my shouts with no standard, no moral from my stand up.
I see you, give hope, and now I leave you.
For an ending,
I say: “Good luck to you.”