A hill to die on

I woke up one bright early day
looking for a hill to die on
I saw a tweet about rocketman Yay
That is a journey worth trying

I picked up my clothes and folded them
Put them all in a bag neatly
I put on my glasses to look at the realm
And was off on the journey swiftly

I happened upon a bridge made wholly of wood
With three trolls standing smack in the middle
Who said they’d let me pass if I answered the riddle
What’s jolly and oaky and sounds like it’s good

The answer was clear it was Hollywood
The trolls departed sprinkling a fag or two on me as I passed
The horrid smell of cigarettes quickly passed
And soon there were sounds in the woods

I could hear roars and cheers and critters and twitters
Walked toward the roars to find a thorny hydra named Dragon
It said I had to find out which head housed liquid delusion
I waved my fingers and pointed at the third of its members

The head approached and came forward out of itself
It was a beautiful shell like they had promised
I left with one assurance not to be alone with its ideas by myself
Also to deflect whenever it asked what I’d promised

I started up the hill as the shell was on a satchel behind me
I could see the hill on the horizon
I could see a new Sun rising
A few more steps I thought and then I’m free

I saw other hills as I passed toward my goal
The shell tried to talk me out of my dreams
I passed The social justice, the white nationalist and blurry extremes
Could now see without my glasses, I was whole

I looked down and saw I was in the valley of the right politics
Where everything I beleived was backed by data
Even my wondering thoughts were sound beyond critiques
And in fact the critics were haters

I got to my hill to see others had cropped on it
It was someone’s attempt to solve a problem but they cared little
Well I was done caring about what people thought of it
So I lay my bed and slept till my eyes were only open a little

Nothing left

Man was aiming at a target 20% off
Time was ticking like a racket taking my aim off
My bow drawing Frank quietly
Till there’s nothing left for free

Time waits for no man
But I saw him picking up my honey
Signs make no noise fam
I guess an exception there is honkey

Sameness was the strangest of all
They’re all different but the sameness was tall
They’re alike like a double tap on instagram
Same inside and their hearts ain’t even red like ham

Since I’ve been sinking on the stableĀ  grounds
U can figure out
Since I’ve been thinking about the stable maths
You can’t figure out

My tongue Sharp like a tiger
Man’s killer words are like fire
Man’s poisonous call me viper
Man’s dangerous my main’s Delilah

I speak the truth to power
Man’s weak don’t watch power
They added 50 cent to my bill
Man won’t watch power still

Been killing it on radio man can’t handle my river flow
She said my cup runneth over they should change my name to overflow
Been cutting up the pieces man can’t taste reeses pieces
ET can’t call home and man can’t walk home with no issues

Could have tied me to Russia at least give me visa
Man’s still from Africa where you pay extra for visa
Time is ticking am I Russian can’t stay in here no more
Fine pickings without Russia there’s Australia and New York

Man drop fire when I feel like it reason why they don’t know
Paper catch fire put my own to it even Theresa don’t know
Same dad lines led to lame sad fines when the drug war started
Bane of lies driving Lord’s of flies like piggy just farted

Sigh

I sleep somedays

I’m awake some nights

When it’s cold it’s summer

When it’s hot it’s winter

 

I think I tried

I tried i failed

What lofty skies

What grimy spades

 

Simple life

Sinful death

Nary a mire

Death on a spit fire

 

Hope from hope fields

Lies from pulpits

Blood from white robes

Night as light grows

 

Sigh

Nigh

Slaving away in my life

Failing to strive

Fine

Walking on water was fine
Stepping on the moon was good
But there’s none to stay in line
There’s none to give food

The lofty is easier than the simple man
To project is not to empathise
You can save that man yes you can
But does it look good in the camera’s eyes

Warring factions in my new old land
Perilous stories that never end
My forefathers went through the rapids bend
To put their feet on cooler sand

Their struggle is not mine
Their suffering a foreign language
I read about it in a book online
It was interesting like a Facebook adage

No is better than soon

I don’t want this to be timely
I can’t hope it will be important
If my words make you smile wryly
I hope you don’t get combatant

Hello fictional female I may never meet
I think I heard about you in a discourse
I appreciated what I heard and I’d like a few answers on your feet
If you don’t mind a few minutes lost

Will you understand that I can cry sometimes
Will you think less of me
Do you know that I may start to laugh sometimes
At a joke making fun of me

Will you look in my eyes when you get scared
Or will you tell me off
Will you not tell your friends about my beard
Or other things about me you find off

Will you hear me when I’m speaking
That I’m not talking in code
Will you scold me when I’m patronising
Or would you rather be cold

I can’t read your mind to know what perplexed you
Will you tell me
I can’t see till tears when something angers you
Will you come near me

It doesn’t have to be great but I don’t like failing
I’ve never retaken a test
It doesn’t have to be love but I don’t like flailing
It doesn’t have to be the best

If you’re afraid to try until the sky starts falling
Will the debris care for you
If you’re afraid to try while I am calling
A no is better than soon

Dark Rainbow

I once was painting a rainbow on this vast canvass
With red and yellow and a smile
I looked closer with a magnifying glass
And all I did was stare for a while

One of my brush strokes in this three month period
Had been unfavourable in the scheme
It was a smudge that looked like a being
Here I was a painter and a God

I took out my 2h pencil and sketched the features
Here was a woman of middle age
That fate had dealt with in rage
She had been good person who excelled in chores

What smile she had was worn by the wiles of living
She had marks that had been lesions
Her back a sick tapestry of the other end of giving
When men touched her skin she’d go blank into a vision

She’d erred on the side of kindness
But failed to be evil
She’d had her bouts of madness
But bore in mind her people

Was virtue hers in essence
Or was she a victim of herself
Was life a tyrant seeking obedience
Or was she just a book on a shelf

I left my glass of magnifying and almost burned my rainbow
But if I did she’d be dead with no chance to know
If things could be better, if this was a bend
So I hung up a dark rainbow right above my bed

Closer

Hail falls as it does in weird Africa
I hear a few tribes men call me
Their clicking tongue says see
That star looks like America

I’d left the city for the real experience
Like accents were not my lot
I notice in the people a real resilience
The kind that stops you getting shot

They were not progressive because they had no hope
Politics was about access roads
They were not liberal because they had no scope
For protecting from poisonous toads

The spears were not innocent one says
Don’t blame the imperialists
We can’t predict by eliminating the past ways
Because of them we have artists

I sleep looking up because the ancestors look down
I have learned nothing
I can’t save them I said as a young one’s look turned a frown
I hope you all can make something

Tales. The art of telling tales. The poet's mind.