Ready to Grow

Drugs contain the escape 

from an unfair world

The rich push the knife in
anything to keep us cold

Altruism is dead

greed and selfishness stole the show

Destroy nationalism 

and remember the tales once told

We are one people

nobody first, no one’s god really knows

Fuck going with the flow

bombs only purpose is to blow

The truth is present 

if you really want to know

To win, we need comrades to row

who ready to grow

Knotted Rope of Nostalgia

Capitalist confusion

All we are doing is just using

Each other, in grand illusion

Try to stay present and glued

The present seems gloomy, but

My heart lives in the future

Where poor people

Don’t think that they are losers

And we construct

Stronger love

Better relationships

Where communication is

Built on the ground

Not in the above

Where we seek the communal

And realize

The farce of hedonism 

Where we smile because 

Of tomorrow 

And let loose the knotted rope

Of nostalgia for what was

Melted Mockery

Waxwings melting, we lament for help
Drawn to the sun’s brilliance
Nonetheless, inferred the optimistic
My hands bound everywhere 
Am I valiant or foolish to stare at the sky?
With the melancholy of the sailor’s wife
Rustling mockery in my pocket

Embraced

Oh, I have tried to laugh the pain away, 
Let new flames brush my love-springs like a feather. 
But the old fever seizes me to-day, 
As sickness grips a soul in wretched weather. 
I have given up myself to every urge, 
With not a care of precious powers spent, 
Have bared my body to the strangest scourge, 
To soothe and deaden my heart's unhealing rent. 
But you have torn a nerve out of my frame, 
A gut that no physician can replace, 
And reft my life of happiness and aim. 
Oh what new purpose shall I now embrace? 
What substance hold, what lovely form pursue, 
When my thought burns through everything to you? 


Claude Mckay