Friday, July 16, 2010

Death of the Black Star

During dark reasoning
The night, our conspirator
Rose against the black star
Her own children

Purposefully unashamed
The ruler of the first black
Our night
Without remorse
Aborted her black stars
Keeping only the cloud and moon at peace
As the decorators of heaven

Loosed from home
Like a detached stranger
Released from the love once demanded
The black star turns to weeping
Spiraling like a dying bird
Towards the unaware

Don’t wish upon the fallen black star
For your wishes will bore death
Never to come true
The broken winged flyers
Disconnected with the earth
Gravity holds them no more

One by one
Black stars fall by the millions
Crashing among us
We that let them fall
With a thud, they cover the earth

The black rain will ruin us all
It has already begun
The travesty of the black star

The tragedy is not that of living so high
And falling so far
But to have lived so high
Yet never glow
Rotted early of their radiance
The black star was exiled from the sky

Already the night claimed the dark expanding
Found nothing extraordinary about them.
Plummeting to an untimely death,
Unwanted, abandoned,
Death of the black star.

It has already begun,
Beneath our feet,
Black stars slumber,
Their sleep disturbing,
Like fish ashore.

Their death has become a path we walk on.
A path we walk over.
Their fate, a mere residue,
Found on the soles of our shoes.

Before Africa

Snow was beautiful to me
I was always overcome by it
The brightness of it, demanding you to attend to it
Take notice upon it and admire its white
A color that strong
She could still the beautiful right out of you
Its soft flakes would melt on the tip of your tongue
And you’re frozen
In awe of her coldness
Some found her chill appealing
Her dangerous nature goes un-rendered
And too many, her season is favored
Desired by most

Before Africa
Snow added wonderful to whatever she landed upon
Making it somehow prettier than what it was before
The way she rested on a bare branch
Like she was royal cloth wrapped around a peasant
It was a bony plain tree
But when she aided to it
It looked magical
Enchanting it with her whimsical powers
Her sparkle lit the tree
So you would assume it better off

Before Africa
Nothing compared to snow
Than something changed
I was in Africa struck in amazement at the beach
It was late November in Durban, South Africa
There was no hint of snow
Just sand
It was warm from the sun
I let my curious toes feel into it
Searching through it
Finding rocks and sea shells
My feet bled into the sand
Camouflaging themselves within it
Along with the other bodies that surrounded me
Sand clung to each one of them
Not to outshine them but to be a part of them
Molding herself onto us
So we could all be beautiful together

Snow never suited me
It made my feet numb
Its blinding white light made my eyes squint
I always stood out
My dark skin
Next to such white

Before Africa
It was all I knew
But once the sand warmed me
I had forgotten all about winter

Tales of a Poor Boy

Blisters rule over his tired dirt ridden feet.
His path is never on course.
Instead he crisscrosses and zigzags his way to a stranger.
Draped in rags that dangle effortlessly from his skin,
And with every slight movement,
A piece of cloth finds another excuse to remove itself from his body.
Uncovering his fragile flesh,
The bones ache to be free,
Poking at his skin,
Penetrating his body with force,
Angering itself to the surface.
His body now operates like that of a machine,
That is slowly running out of power,
But somehow keeps functioning out of shear will to survive.
He knows only his small thirst for change.
His sister paces with the same routine except she supports a newborn on her back,
And they roam together, through the endless sea of sidewalks.
Hoping to greet a willing giver,
It is midnight and their weary eyes keep searching, keep asking.
They wait in silence as their onlooker pears at them in pity or disgust,
Debating if reaching in their pockets is worth their time,
Unaware that their choice is a matter of life and death.
Some give kindly, proud of the good deed for the day.
Others tell them to get a job or go to school.
Leaving them helpless, pleased with their generous advice.
But the child does not know such language,
Just yes or no.
Anything beyond this is hopeless to him.
Money is the key he has learned.
No parents to help him.
Maybe they left or maybe they died.
Looking in those eyes, I would be unable to tell.
Nothing resides in them.
The innocence and joy left him long ago.
Pain and suffering is all he knows,
Along with the hustle of the night.
This burden is far too great for such a poor boy.
I wanted to scream but relented,
I knew my scream would surely last forever.
Life as we all know it to be, is unfair,
Not discriminating on age, gender, or race,
It targets whomever it wishes.
So harsh even on this poor boy.
But I hope this child,
Will find a way of freedom,
Of this pain and suffering,
This night he does not belong in.
I settled within myself that I will see him again.
In heaven I propose.
And there he will be,
His eyes filled with everything glorious,
And happiness is all that he knows.


The intrigue of pretty green
Makes the saliva runneth over
The thirst lingers until we are all mad with it
Our spirit laid to rest
The dead swallow our hidden dreams
For their ancestors did the same
Awake child
Open your reckless eyes and take notice upon yourself
See what a spectacle you have become
To die and be resurrected
But look, you are still dead
Only you are just a vessel
Filled with nothingness
Just an empty pity
Standing hopelessly like a dumb caucus
On that assembly line
Dying for your turn at your precious zombie’s chocolate
The hunger stinging your throat
Like needles scratching
Going only where the blood runs
Immersed in debt and bills
Our bodies have long gave way
Such weary fragile shells
But the will to suffer on quietly continues
The body has no other choice but to function
With our decrepit feet
We’ll walk until out toes fall off
All in the name of those dead presidents
We’ll all chase after it
Until the bullet forges its way through our head


Prickling my flesh
A feverish delight
An eruption boils forth
Overwhelming reason with rash thought
Consuming my once tamed nature
Into an awakening of savagery
I have come to wreak havoc
On a soul willingly to be utterly overtaken
And wholly consumed
Let my flames envelope you
The heat will merely warm your fears
Isolate you from the rest of the world
Into my ecstasy you dwell

Sun Kiss

Sun-kissed sky
Orange warmth
Pink breath
Filled above
A private love
Exposed above us
Color consumed clouds
Keep floating
Keep roaming
The sky is maddened with life
Its blue churning
Making anew
More colors
Until the sun sets
And the kiss
Is over

Sharday Cage

Helpless I do not know if good intentions prevail among the elected, among the appointed, leaving me apprehensive that the fate ...