Monday, December 15, 2014

Ropes On My Limbs



I can't stop my body
From absorbing other people's emotions
And it punishes me for being an empath
I despise my body for failing me
I never feel right anymore.
I always feel broken and wounded
I am tired of crying and open wounds
No place to hide from pain
Only worse in my dreams
I just want to find a peaceful place
Where I can love and grow old
With plants and cats around me
I know I will never be free
But, maybe one day I will not
Feel the ropes on my limbs

Sunday, November 16, 2014

No Title



What ever part
Died with you
Was most
Of who I am
I don't know
Myself, anymore
Who is this
Stranger
In the mirror?
I can't stand
His voice
Or his
Grieving eyes

Your echo
Won't let me
Wither away
Someplace dark
I feel like
An old cat
On trembling legs
Looking
For a place to die
Quietly
My memories
Of the tall grasses
are fading

Without our
Dreamer
We have
Lost our dreams
Without our
Visionary
We have no vision
Without you Natchez
I cannot breath
I cannot see
Into the future
Anymore

Thursday, October 2, 2014

NTS




I feel more lost now than ever before
Lost in the hurricane gale
Some days, I just lay on the floor
Paralyzed by this grief and sadness
It come in waves, every seventh wave
Makes me lose control
Some days, I can’t find any words anymore
Can’t stumble now, I know, I know, I. Know.
Talking to you, everyplace I go
I know, you would never leave us alone
Every time you left, you always returned to atone
Did you die thinking death was a dream?
Did you die without any pain?
Knowing you were surrounded by love?
Did you know we knew your genius?
Did you know you were our hero?
Did you know that you were our heart?
Death dragged you away from our embrace
Death keeps you from answering my desperate calls
I want to time travel, to meet you in the simple times
I want to smoke with you and laugh away the days
I want to swim in the ocean, our bodies skimming in the waves
I can’t be mad at your body, because it was so beautiful
I can’t be mad at your diet, you treated your body like a temple
The universe is, and your life was part of the universe
Everything is everything, I see you in everything
I will find my voice, my love for you, and I will sing
Grief, is an insult to the power of the emotion
Nobody took you home, you were fucking stolen
My heart is swollen and broken, but I’m not hopeless
I was raised to float, to fight, to never mesh
Without you, I will always feel like something is missing
You join the ancestors, the vestige of our existences
I cry every morning, to honor your life
I got comfortable, standing on the knife
I didn’t feel the danger, the impending doom
The time was stagnant, and we lost our groove
I loved you more than I love myself
I lived for your happiness, for your health
Spent our time on the paper chase
Spent our time regretting our waste
Years filled with toil, my brain boils in my skull
Everyone telling me, how good I’m doing
Each day, I feel more of myself losing
I’m sinking lower, I feel colder
I’ll never be the same man, I was before
I am glad you are free, from the debts and the stress
There is no afterlife, no heaven or hell for me
I wish I could believe in the fairy tales they tell me
Mama held your hand to make it warm that day
Poppa couldn’t stand, we wailed for you Natchie
I feel you inside of me and I will protect you
I wish I could of helped strengthen your heart
I see your face smiling every night in the dark
I see all the telltale history of your body’s betrayal
Over my shoulder, I see the hints of your body’s one flaw
I see the beauty of life and the reality of death, in your life and tale
Your son is everything you wanted him to be
He is your gift to the world, and its clear to me
He listened to everything you said; I can see it in his eyes
He is funny, kind, and righteous, like you were Natchez

Monday, August 25, 2014

NT

My brother died yesterday.
It was very sudden.
He was such a beautiful healthy man.

I am shattered into thousands of shards.
Just leave me where I have broken.


Natchez Tahoma
Natchez
Tahoma.

Natchez
you are always with me

Natchez, You'll Find a Way from Zearle on Vimeo.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Worker, Worker




Worker, worker
Always toiling and suffering, never have time
Pain on our face, while we’re telling you fine
Breaking our bodies, working away on the grind
Losing our mind, watching our lives unwind

Worker, worker
Alienated, but force our mouth, to move
So sedated, we can never, find a groove
Exploitation, got us feeling, just like a fool
Never, anything extra, every month, rent is due

Worker, worker
No dirt, under our feet, just dog shit and concrete
Keep us tweaked, keep us stupid, keep us weak
Open your mouth, lock you up, no one taking risks
Worker power, class war, raise your fucking fist

Worker, worker
I’m sorry we never see our kids, I’m sorry
For the bids, the bosses, the landlords, the pricks
Fuck the cops, and they street dictatorships
Lost our vision, we can only see apocalypse

Worker, worker
Shitty food, no immune system, we always sick
Food desert in the hood, all the docs writing ‘scripts
Feeding fast food to the kids, sugar water piss
Into the fucking wind, the poor are left to twist

Worker, worker
Working conditions, shortening our lives
No win situation, the bourgeoisie tells us lies
Stuck in stagnation, no revolution in sight
Try to make it another day, just one more night

Worker, worker
Smash the state, and build something new in its place
No more sectarian shit, no same shit different face
Build a movement, stop your sellout paper chase
Its not just for your family, fight for the Earth and the human race

Clumsy Exploitation




nothing 
surprises 
us 
anymore
about 
this
capitalist
reality
it's
the
same
voice
talking
to
us
everywhere
we 
go
echoing
ideas
so
vapid 
and
hollow
we
try to
prepare 
optimistically
for 
tomorrow
while
we
manage
our 
clumsy 
exploitation
and 
intimate
alienation






Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Skinny Jean Dreams



the day you
catch me,
wearing
name brands and
skinny jeans
i’ll be smoking
tina
with the
skinny fiends
i’ll be having
silly dreams,
about fame
and C.R.E.A.M.
stuck between,
exhaustion
and the need

to scream
you will 
never catch me
off the rails
or on the 
marked trails
we need 
more successes
and less fails
more trying to live
a life that means
something for
the future beings
part of the tales 
told by the whales
political prisoners 
Fill up the jails

Monday, June 23, 2014

Dystopic Phobia



Nothing hiding
In the mists and shadows
But class antagonists
And rich assholes
Who make more poverty
And more mounting debts
Shoving us deeper down,
into the depths
Killing us more, every day
Everyone poor, never enough pay
Everyday, killing each other
Imprisoning my sisters and brothers
I repress my oppression
I regress in my depression
No lesson in making concessions
Your digression, becomes a obsession
Stuck in the past or a dystopia
Suffering from a bad case of myopia
Your vision gives me claustrophobia
Or some kind of fucked up phobia

Capitalist Kitsch



Capitalism is the largest cult
Every member, trying to crush you to a pulp
Work you to death and leave scars
Inject the market, with horrible war
This system, be peddling apathy
I got a wrath that I can’t scratch or see
Lead by fucking sociopaths and moonbats
Can’t escape this poverty trap, king of the rats
Steady exploitation, webs of oppression
Can’t shake away the repression
Invisible hand tight round my neck, I’m choked
Lost in a haze of booze and dab smoke
The essence is to be present
No acquiescence, or forced concessions
Keep to the struggle, only progression,
No estranged relations and alienation

False meritocracy
So sad to see, so much poverty
Sadness in the eyes, of almost everybody
The guises we carry, are so heavy
Regrets need to be buried, be wary
Of getting lost in fantasy and the, delusionary
Tarry favors, your cronyism, and inheritance
It’s easy to walk the tightrope with a safety net
Try living check to check, you’d never make it
Pretend to struggle in the city, you are shit
So later, you can go on, in Salon,
writing about how you toughed it
Just a shitty anthropologist,
in your ethnographic bliss
Got your degree,
pretending to care about the poor and dissed
But you are far too narcissistic
And can produce only kitsch

Monday, April 21, 2014

Hold Our Hand Up




Capitalism is
The puppeteer
Of our filaments
In this atmosphere
Of delusions and fear
Insatiable greed
Demands more
Twitching
For the bourgeoisie
Abhorring
Our own
Supplanted desire
Confined within
Self-defeated mire
Assertions of
Socialist desertions
Hunger and thirst
You always do your worst
Regardless, of your curse
We'll still hold our hand up
Drowning in plastic trash
Until we smash gender and class

Sunday, February 23, 2014

The System Was Never Broken It Was Built This Way



Everyday, 
is wasting away, 
my labor goes to pay
Thought I had, 
nothing more to say, 
everybody,
acting cray
Will I survive another day? 
Everywhere is this game, 
that, I refuse to play
Make my name,
off someone else name
It’s a shame, poverty stains
Stop dreaming 
of running away
You ain’t got a choice, 
but to stay
This life is rough but
I’d never trade
I see you always lying
Soon, it all begins to fade
All my dues are paid, 
but I got debts, 
that won’t never go away
Everyone’s bald and fat, 
but I still weigh the same, 
I still ride the train
I still carry the flame
Fucking wingnuts
I know who to blame, 
went to school, 
but I'm still a wage slave
I can't be trained
Fuck the fortune, 
and fuck the fame, 
This capitalist life
is always pained
My pockets,
always lame, 
my bank account is drained
My class is always framed, 
crack the whip once, 
and the rebels are tame
Historically a blip, 
My generation blamed, 
we need to make it plain
Everybody suffering, 
can we take the strain? 
Times is moving too fast
People in too much pain
Elders pass the flame, 
to those who stayed sane
Feet on the ground, 
ear to the sounds, 
still not prayin’
Started at the bottom, 
still at the bottom, 
no lose—no gain
Never forgot, 
from where from I came, 
This poverty just
still looks the same
Walking forward
Directly into the flame