Monthly Archives: June 2010


Your black mother smothers you in love
She wraps her dark arms around your soul
She gives you strength
And removes all your self-control

Your dark mother whores you out to society
She knows where you’ve been, she knows where you’re going
She loves you sarcastic
And turns you into a statistic

Your whore mother lies with a smile
You only need some to get you a mile
Your slut of a mother loves you none
She gives you the high and then she’s done

You’re done, you’re gone
The smacked up horse won
You’re free, we bleed
You’re addiction was your loaded gun


You are

You’re that cleansing water
You put out my dirty fire
Unchained my hear
and set me free
You let me be me

You’re my personal saviour
You freed me from pragmatic hell
Untied the chords
and let me breathe
Told all my ghosts to leave

You’re that constant high
Your lips my drug
Your heart my all
You picked me up
and I now stand tall

Staff Only

In this corner, only staff allowed
I always seem to find my peace of mind
I fade away from the chaos of life
And dream about building liberated minds

I dream of revolution and being at the fore
I dream about moulding our future president,
doctors, writers, teachers, and historians

I think about love spreading
I think about hate dying
I get lost in thoughts of freedom, true democracy
An end to sexism and racist slurs

I dream
I think
I wish
I get lost

The bell goes and reality hits
There is not enough time
And there’s too much red-tape
This is O.B.E.
A noose for the free


The planet has been laid to waste
Mother Earth has been left a bitter taste
She embraced us when she first met us
We held her close too but hid behind our masks

Back then we were apes
We evolved into a dead end
We abuse, we use, and we never say thank you
But Mother Earth is such a push-over
We shouldn’t act surprised

Humans are such a waste
We are that bitter taste
Modern man is the missing link
At that part of the stew that wouldn’t sink

Two Business Men Meet

They sat at a table
Speaking words they thought important
Punting views and ejaculating nonsense
One hid behind his glasses
The other behind his slouch
Male, Testosterone, Dominance
A cock fight, a dance, a display
The alpha-male in decay

No eye contact, just shallow smiles
No understanding; no humanity
They sat at a table
Speaking words to seal the deal
Playing each other; self gratification
So uncomfortable, so cold
It’s nothing personal
Just business – you understand?

There is no real art
No paintings
No drawings
It’s just lines well placed
No dance
No sculpture
Just movement repeated or frozen
No poetry
No prose
Just words placed in good order
There is no art

It’s all been done before…