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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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