Grace With Age and Age With Grace

In The Face

This cultural impotence is expected,

My back is a broken bridge, and my pockets have no sense

This is no way to live. The people are tense.

The masses tremble, for the academics, we got only contempt

Assemble against bourgeois thievery, and oppression.

Learn from the lessons, of micro-sects, hard lines, and regression.

All this dogma, clogs the arteries, like slices of bacon.

Whole system, based around taking, prole forsaken.

Talk like a radical, live like a capitalist, stop faking.

Too smart to work together, and too stupid to stop in fighting.

Tired of left griping, oppression Olympics, and straight up lying.

We can’t get it up for capitalism anymore, or pretend.

That we're not poor, born in the slums, fend for ourselves.

We've been on the run since we was fetus,

All theory, no action, fucking self defeatist.
All action, no theory, no context, taking risks

We're flattened pigeons, ground into the asphalt.

Born with no optimism, beneath the rusty scaffolds.

Lived during the time of the rich-men, walking among the cuckolds.

While the people are suffering, the rich knuckle us worse

The bloody feathers and bones are soft under his boots.

Cops are just an extension of the state, always been in cahoots.

The city is filthy with the grime of madness, pain and abuse

This daily struggle drains away our goals

Are you still looking around for your nonexistent souls?

Or deeply into your own growing desperation?
What lesson did 6 billion learn? What contemplation?

Stop the delusions of the illusions you chase 
Negate everything, all this bullshit is erased

Find our way through the haze, at a steady pace

Anti-Vagina Propaganda, By the Cock

Fight against, 
this feminist backlash

They invoke the clash, 
violence, imposes the limits

Fight, fuck being timid, 
every second, 
men raping and killing

It's always time to fight,
for the life, rights 
and equality of women

You are twisted, 
if you got, 
no love for, mothers, 
daughters, and sisters

In the shadows, 
abusers whisper, 
midnight marches 
against the twisted

Fear, tools of patriarchy, 
the waters, 
full of sharks to steady flee,

Talking malarkey, 
women shouldn’t 
have to live in fear

Stigmas 
for those who survive, 
attempted murder

But still alive, 
original workers, 
revealed, under the lies

On a mission to take back, 
day and night, 
in solidarity, we walk,

Time to fight, 
blamed for all the evils 
like Pandora’s box,

Anti-vagina propaganda, 
by the cock

The male mantra, 
chants only to kill, 
and to fuck, 

Illusively Unglued

Feeling the blues, I’m coming unglued

This chaotic life, got me confused

Everyone pretends, to play by the rules

Reality is, unspoken and cruel

I want to fight side by side, not in a duel

Tangled in this spider web, of subterfuge

You always lose, when you are the stooge

Stop skipping around and find a groove

I don’t want the cray, the swag or the juice

I want to get loose; I want your voice in the booth

I search for liberation, not illusive truth

What’s the use? The tree bears bitter fruit

If you don’t believe, you can’t get duped

Like most people, we live poverty, in a loop

Misplaced my rhythm, but not optimism

Fighting for justice, is a everyday decision

Nothing has luster, when you live, only for substance

Justice, I take a tough stance, fuck chance

With the people I dance, or it’s not my revolution

Capitalism, is a forgone conclusion

In the struggle, lies fusion, in praxis sleeps our solution

What do we pass up to the future?

Outside of a culture completely useless

Trying to make a trillion is so fruitless

And when a million isn’t enough, how stupid

Everything rotten, except us, the roots

The hardest gangsters now, they wear the suits

On the edge of war, I hear synchronized boots

White Man Sand Castles

White Man going mad

Confronting the loss of his entitlements

Losing the white privileges

Which were always denied

Articulating the unusual feeling of falling

Instead of the pipe dreams of rising

Confrontations with meritocracy

Realizations of reality crumbling

Great disappearance of the

Falsely constructed freedoms

Of the white man’s constitution

Complacency, He never challenged inequality

Championed its functionalism

Until it was Him who suffered

Everyone else’s progress stunted

But He did not ever care about anyone

Even during the end of His system

It has to be all about Him

You, and your anguish, your failures

Your difficulty in the sandbox

That was made for Him to play in

Wielding guns, killing children and women

People of color, and each other

Will the White Man walk away from his sand castle

Or destroy it so no one else can play?

Regardless, the empire will not

Withstand the tides of time

Collective Pain

Is the world beautiful or disfigured?

This depends on the color of your skin

What does your environment look like?

It is contingent on the location your in

Of your body and the name of your country

What are your options, what are your possibilities?

Moreover, the socio-economic class that you fill?

1200 billionaires and 20 million millionaires

Own most of the world, most of the land and water

For how long can we play the role of victim?

In the theatre of suffering and inequality

Our consent sewn into our brows by coercion

Corporations prop up politicians, which just come and go

The state does not need shadows to do its dirt

The wicked are applauded for their violence  

Reading the capitalists explain, why the system is dysfunctional

They speak of spending exhaustion, talking about wealthiest

Who are tired of buying and purchasing what they never need

How can they tell us that the trickle down works?

When so many suffer from inequality and poverty

Contradictions built into the foundation

Every time we flush the toilet, filled with drinking water

We think of the people who walk for miles to dirty wells

What connects us, other then our collective suffering

This pressure on us, is not the kind that makes pearls

But the type, that crushes our minds and bodies to a pulp

Who will pull the sled filled with revolutionary dreams?

Whose back is strong from turning the wheel of pain?

Fast Food Mystics

Clenching spiral talismans in an rutted staggered gait

Our mantras disregard the third eyes as somehow deficient

Whereas spreading the scent of smoking sage into the wind

Whilst nudity resembles naught to eunuchs and mystics

What transiting modish hollowness requires rediscovering?

Crumpled within the greasy fast food wrappers of absurdity

Discarded alongside the audacity of someday and someway

Grasping Chickens

What is it that you long to ruminate on?

Along the littered shantytowns of swaying occasions

Somewhere between the sea’s glass and forest’s grass
Walk the downtrodden, with slow and patient footsteps

Which erode the soil with rebellion and revolution

How many chickens are you attempting to grasp?

In your outstretched arms, dangling with rusty shackles?

It was my father, who showed me how to enthrall and

Fascinate chickens, with a slowly drawn straight line in the ground
Drawing a line in the dirt, does more then hypnotize chickens

So many of us, can’t acknowledge the disorientation

All these meritocracies and choices flash under dim bulbs

Where do you imagine smelling honeyed blossoms?

When the rest of us, dry heave from the stench of despair
Why do you not hear the teeming billions who scream for life? 

These isolated slanted silhouettes cast a shattered shadow

On the backlit walls of fixated, however yearning, ignorance

Our puppeteers speak always of untangling strings
The best they offer, is a nostalgic return to the beginning  

While the puppets themselves, dream of new freedoms

Hole

We are warped and twisted like cheap plastics

Alien, to much more then our labor, as predicted

We are not sure whom, or where we are anymore

Lost, except to the putrid taste of the beast’s entrails

Enwrapping us in hypnotic, sticky strangulation

Even time, is, indebted, to someone

We are increasingly tangled in the psychosis of perplexity

All the work and time, we spend learning to lie and fly

While we have always been, able to soar, honestly

Even with the variations of these, deformed wings of poverty

So many years spent, fueling ourselves with

The wrath and fury of injustice

The grind of daily oppression and inequality

Our duty supersedes the future we tread lightly on

Our hearts begins to feel, as a crumbling hole

We are not from the past, but somewhere else

While we attempt to grapple with the mundane existence

Of existing in a delusional reality occupied with artifices

Of which, as hard as we try, we feel ourselves dissolving into

No one walks the deer’s path, but the mislaid and forlorn

While the marked trail is laden

With moral and religious righteousness

Distorted Selves

Cannibal's Web

Who is to say, we would know your face anymore anyway

If we passed each other on the smoking streets,

Which continually burn as Nigerian oil wells do

Or that you would be fare for the famished

Stares of those cannibals on the roadside

Who eat their own, who consume, like lunatics

In the tangled bushes with wild eyes under the moon

Awash with the graceful silken strands

Of the spider’s web and struggling next meal

Self-portrait

The Lacrimation of Pigeons

The pigeons who flutter every

Morning on the fire escape

Act as if they know nothing

About sculpture and form

Pretend to be interested in

Only preening and pecking

Yet, they coo the secrets

To finding your way home

Which is never straight as the

Crow flies, or the wobbly linear

Descent of drops of wasted lacrimation 

The Tiger and the Hare

We all exist, as we are cornered

Chained together in a tiny room

With no windows or doors

Facing off, antagonistically

As we don't have any control

Over whom we associate with

Acting if our relationships

Are battles to the death

Instead of connections of vivacity

Everybody thinks you have to

Gird your loins against all

Let no one into your citadel

Tearing apart anyone who

Knows your secret places

The coiling paths, the vague corridors

The creaking and shuddering

Inner doors, so embarrassingly

Opened, in acts of vulnerability

The violence of our fangs

And the spattered blood of others

Covering the walls of our limitations

We are diluted, by the wretchedness

Of our delusions and mistakes

Every choice we make, is real

The ripple of the skipping stone

Echoes beyond the moments

We convince ourselves we steal

Our hearts are not prisons

Our loves are not wardens

Our friendships are not battles

Our bonds are not fetters

We will not fight for

The amusements of the elite

If you want to see us rip 

Each other to shreds

Do what you may

We outstretch our necks

Together, but we will not 

Kill each other for you