feeling

extraordinarily

self-conscious

using a language

that was spread like the plague 

by

allegedly 

civilized colonizers

The Black Man's Monologue

Come, white man, sit awhile with me,

And let me civilize you.

Let me teach you how we were meant

To respect each other.

Let me explain to you patiently,

As if to a little child,

That the colour of the human skin

Is a purely biological phenomena

That has nothing to do with a person's worth.

Above all, let me teach you how to be kind,

You who are now my burden and my brother,

Though my younger brother.

Come, white man, sit awhile with me,

And let me civilize you

At The Local Supermarket

Walked into the local supermarket.

One of the assistants came up to me

With a polite smile. "What do you want, sir?"

All that's around us is food,

Vegetables, shampoos, and more food.

I take a deep breath

Well what I want is not more time.

No, I'm not fed up with time,

I mean, what I want is timelessness,

A lot of it. I'd like to rest far, far away,

In a distant land, and think over things

For a century or two.

I just want to live forever, you know

The shop assistant stares at me, at a loss.

There will be a time for death to die,

But right now all that's around us is food,

Vegetables, shampoos, and more food

Grasping Reality

This, then, is insanity

To be bound as if by chains

To the contours of a shallow reality,

To blend with the system and dance with it

Like empty air ensconced in a hollow jar,

To refuse to swim into the deep heights

Of what is, beyond what seems

See reality for what it truly is

Grasp it by the tail, fly the skies

For the only what that saves is

Elusive evasion with the dancing river of light

Liberation

Liberated from the ambiguities of a never-arriving future,

Feeling the chains fall from the hands,

Unshackled from earth-existence

Living one foot in time, one foot out

Hand in hand with what's divine,

The timeless etched on all our hopes.

Love, the matter of reality

And its very embodiment, eternal God,

Leading us into the promised land of light

Raw Light In The Dark

Shivering as if in fear

But in reality shaking with amiable laughter,

All them billion years or older

And us mere fading wisps of smoke.

Raw light in the dark

Apparently black canvas jaded

With pinpointing diadems,

Celestial stadium of perpetual, ageless watchers,

Constellated hope of endless light for mankind.

Seems like the dark 

Forces our race to find light

All us watching the stars,

And them watching us

Message to Posterity

 

We the characters of the 'casual comedy' 

Solemnly predict 

That reality as we know it

Will peter out

In a century or so  

And we beg posterity

To learn from our woes

 

Let There Be Light A Second Time

 

Let there be light a second time,
Dear God,
Not cause your light has faded
But because we men have blinded.
Blinded ourselves
And each other -
Such is the story of man,
The great emperor,
The king of the universe
Who sought to sate his incessant greed
And found blindness at road's end

 

On Reading King's 'I Have A Dream'

 

Well, I thought to myself,
This thing is worth more
Than all of British literature.
No: I corrected myself.
It's worth more than
All of the Western canon

I sigh and hope with the words
That one day all men be equal,
And beyond: I hope
That the black man be given
A special place,
Here on earth,
And later in God's hearth

 

Poem Written at 4:47 On December the 3rd, 2020

 

What’s a time like this doing

In the title of a poem like this?

Well, I – author, narrator, hypothetical poet

Of this present poem –

Would like to get all of the now

In what I’m writing,

In what you’re reading.

Cause what I write now is what you read later, huh?

Or from your perspective, future, unknown, possible reader(s),

What I wrote then, is what you read now.

Your now is different from my now, old friend.

Here’s to hoping our nows meet

Poemist Dabbles in Casual Art on A Desolate Evening

 

I, poemist
walk to the outermost sides
of the outer courtyard
of the palace named Dream.
and i shriek want, yes

i shriek want.
i want the morning
i want the evening
i want every shred of time
neatly assembled and

arranged before my heart
before this evening's over, see?
my heart used to have a tic-toc tic-toc
round it but now it don't, see?
and i want a watch and

i want some food
and i want some peace
and some cosmic security
with that, too
while yer at it

and i want time
and i want peace
i want time
i want time
i want time

and somehow
i knew
when i heard
the falling sound
that time had broke -  

would never expand
nor contract
but it'd ever be the same;
would always be the same
insensitive tyrant