Un(en)titled

Chapters and pages turn
for each scribe
of new stories
to elevate the hopeless
stuck in a high rise
Trying to raise
flat spirits
trapped in the elevator
Where the up aboves
Can’t hear their high pitch
In the field of dreams
Beneath the seeds of disappointment
Missed appointments
At the Job Centre
Universally discrediting their struggle
To make ends meet
Beyond the soggy veg
On a plate sat at the edge
of the table
Upon which the red letter days
Stays for days on end
No hot air balloon to
Take them away
A stray knock on the door
From the bailiff
To collect the little they have
Under order of the court
So fraught, so out of order
That the bed they bought on
Credit for the daughter
Has been blacklisted
When do the poor and forgotten
Lay their head to rest?
To arrest their troubles and fears
To lock away for another day
Waiting of that day to come
Where the Father
finds them
holds them
and whispers reasssuring
that
“It’s all right little one”.

Fear.

The darker the shadows,
The greater the light,

So I keep shining bright,
To reach new heights,
On the hill,
For a vertical climb,
Foregoing vertigo,
Staying away from the spin,
The lies from within and around,
Sticking to what I know,
And what I do really well,
Self talk defeats doubt,
Belief from a drought in a lake,
Dot mistake an oasis for a drink
Or double-think as a fact,
Or fiction for true stories,
To turn heads and shred minds,
With the siren call,
That worship your rise,
But prey for your fall.

Love or money?

Love or money,
With which do I invest in?
Money makes the world go round,
But love keeps it interesting,
With both a return on investment
Is not always guaranteed
You can’t hedge your bets with love
Money can’t give you all you need
Love is pure and good
The love of money leads to greed
Fuelled by the perception
That the tool is a hammer
And every problem is a nail
That you hit with the money
When you fee the love fails
On the conditions attached
That limits love’s effect
Lust blurs the lines of love
When you pay that into sex
After the physical touched
What comes next?
An orgasmic euphoria
Costing more than you bet
Because love is limitless
Which money isn’t
You reap what you sow
When you invest in love
from the One above
Money sinks you to new lows
When you don’t have dough,
Don’t get sick of stale bread,
Trying to get fed,
Keep the love in your heart,
The wisdom in your head,
Master the money well,
Until the final death knell.

Rectangle Revolution.

The revolution won’t be televised,
It’s being broadcast on a smartphone,
Change can’t be put on hold
Regardless if the money
That changes hands
Doesn’t fold anymore
Because the events unfolding
Are raw as the footage
Follows in the footsteps
Of the marginalised
Disenfranchised,
And the oppressed
As the camera keeps rolling
From iPhones
To stop us being treated like Androids
Or illegal aliens
To control the space that we’re shipped in from
To board us on another boat
How do we stay afloat
Whilst drowning in a sea of disillusion
When we discover the love
We have for each other
Is falser than the hope
That we expect through the clouds
Between the smoke
Lining up silver
To find the gold paved street
But getting 3rd degree-burned
by the reflections
Beyond bronze statues
Waiting to move to better places
Taking pictures and selfies
Snapshots into new plots
And stories of rebellion written
On the faces of modern-day
Revolutionaries holding intelligent rectangles
To untangle the false truths and half-lies
We see from false news being shared
That present events skewed
But a serial can be killed
When we can see the truth shared and spread
From a 6-inch view.

Point Blank. 

I’ve got a point to make
But my mind keeps drawing blanks
Why they keep killing
My people from
Point blank range
We keep talking about change
But what’s the point
When police keep
Killing my people
From point blank range
Shoot first
Accuse later
Ask questions last
But what’s going through
The cop’s mind
As he prepares to blast?
Is it fear?
Fear of a tone that’s darker than his?
So he darkens his tone
Of voice
And shouts out loud
To mask the hatred inside
That he’s afraid to address
Instead sending mixed messages
That suggests that he’s missed the point
Firing shots off
From close range
Acting on the irrational rage
Sweeping up through his torso
Moreso, because he sees black as a threat
He’s too busy making decisions
That he won’t live to regret
Because he hides behind the badge
Inside the forces
That serve and protect
Themselves from their ways
But when it’s pointed out
That they’re living in a maze
In the bubble of misplaced
Authority
They blank out the root problem
And keep killing minorities
On a whim
And nothing seems to heal
Nothing.
Not even time, prayers or protests
To show the pain, anguish and anger
On our faces
Everyday is the killing Olympics
And they keep running and gunning
On kaleidoscopic races
Most importantly
The black race
Because everyday
White supremacy
Want to raise the bar
To see how high we can jump
Because we’re getting pushed too far
To the edge
To the point where they draw blanks
From their privileged minds
So I’ll keep saying it with my chest
Speaking my mind
Until I see change
And the crooked authorities
Stop killing my people
From point blank range.