In Immigrant's Hands

Our mouths bellow justice
yet we preach to the choir
It becomes just a hum
As it travels up higher

They have shuttered the windows
While scrunching their faces
Making sure the wrong people
Stay in the right places

They know not the sounds
Of true lamentation
They care not that this land
Grows with each implantation

More people, More culture
More knowledge, more life
A yield that goes far beyond
Business or wife

What can truly be saved
With a wall or a ban
When our everything started
In immigrant’s hands

Peaceful poems

Content in contemplation
at ease among the trees
Regardless of duration
my bliss found on the breeze

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The energy expands
like the opening of a hand
there is nothing like the comfort
of someone who understands

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Flowing out into the world
a love that seeks to heal
to give someone another way
to see, to think, to feel

Some may try to block it
Some may turn and run
though it's enough for many
it is grateful reaching one

It's not me, It's you

My skin, my shirt, my skirt, my shoes
“Your begging them to look at you”
My hair, My ass, My mouth, My tongue
“It’s harmless, he’s just having fun”
My work, my street, my apartment
“You should take it as a compliment”
I’m scared, I’m angry, I’m anxious, I’m sad
“Oh stop whining it’s not that bad”
Refuse abuse, Detail the damage
“Go in the kitchen and make me a sandwich”
Fighting back, Taking a stand
“She just needs to get a man”
Target, Victim, Battered, Dead
“She probably shouldn’t have worn red”

Claimed

Sworn in blood
but not their own
the pact was sealed
the lever thrown
Slamming cages
securing chains
the bait has worked
we have been claimed

A Game of Misdirection

It’s a game of misdirection
A sinister sleight of hand
Lecherous inflection
Aggrandizement of the bland

A ravenous flock of scavengers
Who much prefer the gristle
A merciless crew of ravagers
Who yearn to shock and bristle

A tiny matter of distaste
Splashed across the page
And expertly they roast and baste
To cultivate the rage

As we scream and clean our follicles
O’er the tiniest offenses
We cannot see the powers that be
Are blurring all the lenses

Somewhere the facts are thrashing
Trying hard to breach the surface
If it finds the shore it’s gasping
Wondering if the swim was worth it

In the Lurch

Don’t shame the mouth that speaks
All they have simmered in
Now pushed into release
By a furious roiling din

Don’t mock the tears that fall
From eyes assailed with hatred
Lives covered in a pall
After power was made sacred

Don’t brush away the feeling
That something is awry
A choice once thought appealing
Could soon find you asking why

The crawling in your stomach
You felt from time to time
May cause the high to plummet
Leaving you with quite the climb

The Pain is a Utility

The rafters of you packed up tight
With all that has been lost
And even now a glaring sun
feels slightly tinged with frost
You turn now to repression
To keep yourself afloat
But still even a passing thought
Makes a lump rise in your throat
Do not run from sadness
For it can always find you
Take sometime to feel it
So it cannot keep and bind you
Your tears will try to wash it
To force it to the surface
The pain is a utility
The anguish has a purpose

In Plain Sight

Snarling 'neath the wool
teeth that gleam with hunger
Searching for the weakest
drawing close and poised to plunder
the mandible held steady
dripping at it's feet
when it's moment comes
it will bloat itself with meat