It’s hard to hold back tears during these times I live in
The pain that holds me at night shows me
The cries of young ones paraded through the news
What’s more important?
Their souls? Or your polls and ratings?
Tell me cube-box man, and as you do, rid the pretense you wear
I did not fly from the land of earth to see another deceit coated with gold
Those souls you parade as your prize
Are they worth the shame you bring on them?
Their lives as movies, their voices lost in the sounds of doom
Moments they exist in, washed – rearranged to fit your screen
Like black on black
White on white, right!
If you show me your own heart
I’ll show you my mine
That one side you refuse to show
One sided: face of death, that’s all you show
But you forget, we all know two-face survived that night
Alive and willing to show all his burns and scars
Though his ways are seen as dirt and mud
Still he shows all the sides we humans wear
Inwards and outwards, full blown
Tag Archives: spoken words
Lift Off (I)
The trumpets are pronouncing a new sound I must dance to
The choirs are all singing smooth, rolling chants
Angels are here, all shinning with eternal glory
Great ones in the middle, dancing, breaking moves
The soul glowing with joy and peace
Super vibes, the planets are arising
All showing the greatness of life
Days and nights are gone
Locked away, for in this place
It’s all about our arrival
Walked and walked, we have
Journeyed across seas and stars, we have
Burning fuels, hoping to find everlasting quiescence
We tried, some failed
Some fell into the redness of greed
Leaving others with bitter taste
So ask me again?
Why I dance the way I do
Ask me why I turn my hips the way I do
Ask me why my smile stays so wide
Ask me again, why souls are out and about
Free, shouting out joy and peace
Yeah, it’s ringing out that eternal bliss
The choir’s singing with their voices shaking the earth
Their chants finding lonely souls down below
The day and night are locked away
For in this place, the cloud beams away remorse
Gil Scott Heron – This must be deep
poetry
tears from gold
The intoxicating stares from emerald
Just as the doctor ordered
Luxury from up high
The towers I mean
Water made pristine
Purified souls
Glorified meat
The burden of sacrifice
Excellence from drive-offs
The smokes brought forth
The carriage made of tender
Wall of fire
All that we lost, they found
All that I found, I spoke
All that was seen, I write
