Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Beyond the Usual

Look beyond the empty cross
And under the city lights
To find the goodness in life.
As Mt. Kiliminjaro rises up,
Up upon the grief stricken land
Like an empress, bringing beauty and wealth.
The once brown dirt, is now lush, rich with soil.
Plant the seeds of life and watch it grow.
Our ancestors, in the sky
See it now as a mouth watering bowl of fried rice,
And taste it like a mouth of steam.
Teasing your senses
The reptile god rises up
She sheds scales on your skin.
The injustices of life.
I live with my choice,
The butane in my veins, is my gas chamber of life.
Open and search in the dust, the remains
To find some ancient melodies of happiness.
The screams, the cries, pour out into the night of me.
The frustration the rage,
The incomprehensible sorrow, and white leather.
As you wipe the slimy skin off your body,
You are reincarnated as a better soul.
With your masterful wonders of touch.
Touch my soul and tell me what I have done wrong,
And where I will go wrong.
So if you could go back in time and change things,
What consequences would it have?
If Malcolm X wasn't assassinated,
Who would have taken his place?
It is the techno music of a dream,
The strobe light of reality
Letting you fall into nothing, endlessy.
Where the time moves so slow.
Like the time it takes these cold blue lips of the boys face,
To form a smile,
And his mother kisses him and turns away
As the blue smell of the morgue turns him over.
Looking,
Searching for a reason not to give up on this wretched world.
I turn my chair from the destruction on TV and the insomniac reporters of the world,
And I sit back and engulf myself in the misery of my happiness.
Know that nature kills nothing to the naked eye.
But society kills everything else.
Let me compose my thoughts on this tear distraught paper,
And smell the fragrance of you all over again.
The life of a goddess,
The dream of a king.
The pursuit of their problems
Catch up with them in deaths grip.
As the pages unfold, we can say the story has now been told.

Poem by J.A.D. © 2002

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