Tag: bleed

Healing Is Still

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When the streets bleed
With vibrating violence
We know that only scares the guilty
Hanging like
The victims they laid
Aside in their greed;
Healing shall still be far away.

When grass grows
Over crumbled ruins
Abandoned and exposed,
Rebels of a forgotten war
Who plundered all its worth
Relaxing in their misdeeds
Shall fever in the night
And visions reminding them
Healing shall still be far away.

When flags tear at their seams
Weakened in the wind
Salt licking at the sides
Of metal catastrophes
Blowing weeds that take control
Shall struggle upon the ground
Understanding their due;
Healing shall still be far away.

When the last engine
Seizes from strain
Deep in jungle rain, overgrown
And wildcats become predator
Most feared and most bestowed
Vines and trees, all wide and tall
Laying over all regrown
Healing shall still be far away

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Solitary Sadness (day 3054)

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I am sad
For I have not closed my door,
I have left it open to the world
That climbs and claws
To its desired height.
And my skin has begun to bleed
Where once it was supple
In rash and scale,
Blueberry wine.
I am sad
And my glasses haven’t fit
Since I sat boldly
At the ocean’s edge
Wishing I didn’t feel this pain
And could not see
Ocean’s spray.

Unceremoniously (day 2696)

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It is not a fair game for you
Hearts bleed unceremoniously
Destruction forever forcing you
Oppression unannounced
While you are wondering why you?
“Why must our people feel this?”
“Why has this been for me?”
“Why can the others not see?”
“Who is here for me?”
Though many know what life is for you
Though your people value you
The world forgets you
Telling you silently
No place is safe for you
For your bloodline spills unceremoniously
Though fires flood each embankment
Left, blowing over you
Calling out your named ancestors
Forever running after you
Filling your chest with empowerment
With a fair game for you with you.

~ written for the oppressed peoples of the world

You’ve Got to Love What You Get (day 2670)

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Sometimes it just doesn’t make sense
Sometimes you’ve got to love what you get
When rain falls, everyone gets a bit wet
And if the sun sets
You’ve got to get with what you can.

Like a lion’s roar
You’ve got to grab hold your charge
‘Till you’ve made it your own
Finding diamonds in stones
No one’s left out, no one’s left there behind
Not in a world where everyone shines.

So my mercy is an invitation
For your crop seed, perennially
Take it from me
Cause I was born here to bleed.

Sometimes it’s what you know how to do
Sometimes there’s not a question or clue
There’s an opening
Across the supporting beam
Made from the start
So you can give all your heart.

Stained Messenger (day 1856)

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I’m beginning to like the taste of ink on my skin
Bleeding in black
And letters wrinkled symmetrically
With stamps that now stick
To the wings of an unnamed messenger
I have envisioned as Hermes
In a short and stubby auto
With running shoes and arch supports,
And a stripped button up
With wings emblazoned upon the breast-pocket.

Turning Outlaw Again (day 1825)

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I’m turning outlaw again,
My stinging words will pierce thy soul
And my fists will bleed my wicked ways,
I’ll drink my beer warmer then
My women have ever been.
I’m turning down the next dusty road
Handing over my soft spoken ways
For rowdy bars and snake tattoos
I’ll start to hiss with the devils drink.
I’m turning outlaw again,
My gang will be 20 strong
On an open road,
Our clubhouse filled with naked women
Who have signed their posters on the walls.
Saw toothed barbed wire
Will be our backup guard dog
And strapped in a leather sheath to my hip
Will be the deadliest blade known to man.
I’ll shoot my shotgun out the back door
At empty beer cans from the night before,
And all my cigarette smoke
Will lead me to toke,
Cause baby, I’m turning outlaw again.

Mended Arrows (day 1667)

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I’ve left out all my wiles
For a holiday in heaven,
A turn upon the road
To reach where my heart is still as still can be.

You, you were always forgiveness,
You were the mended arrow
A light beyond my vision
But illuminating my walk.

And how come I’ve been dreaming
Of a memory I’m believing
When I’ve got all of my stories
In a rucksack on my back.

There were twenty one good reasons
To hold onto the heathens
As they quickly walked on past
All in excitement and pure jubilee.

But you, you are plenty appealing
You hold me in good standing
And have brought me all my planning
That’s been brought out in the end.

So darling, reach out your good hand,
A wand of my believing,
To make my heart forever bleeding
As an arrow for your sweet light.

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